Saga Diary of a Moisture Farmer; OCs, DDC 2014

It's hard to find good therapists on the space wedge. Suspect Konkers is the better choice in the long run, anyway.

 

I missed a lot of fun while I was on holidays as it seems.

 

Having to live in close quarters is bad enough but not even being able to get away for a bit? I'm surprised everybody still has all teeth, earlybird. But getting away sound like a plan

The way most Imperials act, I wonder if the therapists they do have don't compound the problem, Kahara.

You did, Azure. You should go online on skype some day...

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"Still not crazy." It has become a standard greeting. "What about you?"

He glowers convincingly.

"You look mad."

"Don't."

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Do, do, do!"

"**** you!"

"Come and try."

His glower manages to intensify. "You wait until quarantine is over."

It's not as if I have much of a choice.

 

bickering and bickering, he should be carefull

 

Why, earlybird? As long as one is locked up safely, I can see nothing bad happening.

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No choice at all, actually. Not that it helps any. Sanity becomes optional in the end and even talking to Konkers doesn't make me feel any less bonkers. There, bad puns. It's all over.

"Horrible."

"I'm sorry." I actually am. I have resorted to ticking off hours instead of days. The counter stands at 137.

Woohoo.

 

Sanity becomes optional...



You are even better than Terry Prachett.

 

Still loving the dialogue between these characters. It's priceless!

 

I am not, Azure, trust me on this.

Quarantine won't last forever, Findswoman. Maybe the Empire should drop them in an uninhabited planet for a while to get those pent up mischief-energies out of their system...

Thank you, Kahara. I love writing dialogue.

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"Konkers?"

"Yes?"

"Konkers, why is you hair orange?" Maybe I should have had the presence of mind to wonder how Konkers would amuse himself.

"The can was kinda lying around," he says.

"It is not even meant for hair?"

"Well," he draws that into three syllables. "It's for soft organic materials. Sounds like hair to me. And nobody was ever using it in the workshop anyway.

I was not surprised looking at the colour. His dark curls look even more untamed streaked with the irregular orange dye. The colour does not agree at all with his dark complexion. "Did you plan to grow stubble and dye it as well?"

"That's a kriffin splendid idea." He grins all over his face.

I had to make a note not to use irony on him again. I really should know better.

 

And I love reading dialogue!

Plus have one with you on skype every time possible!

 

These guys could retire and do live commedy in a club One could have orange hair and the other purple!

 

Colorful on a spacewedge with all those greys and whites and blacks

 

* knows very well that you are busy settling down in Munich

So I can patiently wait for a new update in here! Thanks for calling a couple of days on my mobile phone.

 

Still busy with getting my life together, but found some more updates. The wait is over, Azure. For now.

Maybe they should, Nyota's Heart. I'm not sure about the hair colours, though. Not my idea of good looks.

It probably is, Findswoman. The consequences will probably depend on who takes 'justice' into their hands...

Definitely better than the bloodred Imperials tend to show otherwise, earlybird.

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A few days later Konkers does indeed sport bright orange stubble. The colour does still not agree with his complexion, but it is impossible to look away. I can't help staring. This is not how I had imagined the reunion.

"Doesn't feel much different." I run my fingers over the cheek covered with bright orange stubble.

"What did you expect? It's just stubble covered in colour."

"You're rubbing off, too." I stare at the light orange smears on my skin.

"Maybe I should try that with my roomies," he muses.

"And how will you do that?"

"Like this!" He tackles me and we roll over the floor as he rubs his face all over my shirt. When he progresses towards the trousers, I call an urgent halt.

"Don’t! Konkers, stop!"

"What?" His face is half mischief half disappointment.

"My roomies starched and ironed those trousers. You might cut your face on the crease!"

Not even he can go against such logic.

 

Starch and iron. That's why those imperials are so stiff

 

Such adolescents

 

That and the broom up their rear, earlybird.

The Empire is full of reasonable, respectable people, Nyota's Heart, - where you see them...

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Once I got over the orange covering his head and face we got to the moonshine. Or maybe it was the other way round, I do not really remember. I missed the stuff as much as Konkers.

"What put you in this?" It tastes funny.

"Juma juice, 'course." He's offended and tries to take the bottle from me. Whaddya think?"

"Nothing." I pour more drinks. We upgraded to gentlemen standards and that means actual glasses and no slurping from the bottle. "Thought there would be more of it."

"Well, I was bored and you not there." He takes his glass and scrutinises it. "You sure this mine?"

I nod and empty shot before he gets funny ideas. He always does.

"Thought it was bigger." He glares at it and downs its content.

"In your dreams maybe."

"Ain't it always."

 

Now that was just plain funny! Those last few lines about size could apply to several masculine assets

 

Might they indeed, Nyota's Heart? When I was aiming for that Prachett quote.... not really.

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"Well look at you, all shiny!"

Konkers scowls but shiny he is. Glowing like the twin sunset through a spring sandstorm back home. He looks about as ready to flay flesh from bone, too."

"Not funny."

"Of course." I can hardly not grin though.

"And hands off!"

He bats my hands away and it takes some doing to get at his head. "Aw! All smooth!"

"Get. Off!" He really isn't amused which makes me all the more so.

"Was it against the regulations?" I ask when he pried me off.

My only answer is a snort.

"Just wondering why they shaved your brows off along? They were not orange after all," I ask from a safe distance which suddenly turns out not to be that safe after all.

 

Thanks for the last fun updates, gorgeous! And your surprise phone call recently. I am off to the post office soon and keep my fingers crossed. For you and this fic!

 

This diarist is always good for a laugh. I do think Konkers is the only one who can keep up with him though, except for the pilots in Rogue Squadron Hobbie and Wes come to mind

 

a hairless shining Konkers that will be a sight.

 

You're welcome, Azure.

Believe it or not, Nyota's Heart, I never read the X-Wing novels. They seem to be forever on my to-read list.

Maybe the diarist should take some pictures and share them on the holonet, earlybird.

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"Not fair."

"Not my fault."

"You started it."

"Did not. I was all words!"

Konkers is still huffish. Well, he should have been more careful. Now I have my arm in a sling and am off duty for a while with full pay. And he's on charges for careless behaviour. Not that I'm pressing or anything. It's an insurance thing, I guess. If it's all Konkers' fault he has to pay though the Empire pays him anyway so what's the difference?

"You'll pay the hotels on shore leave."

"Am not!"

"Well, I can't," he snaps. "If they deduct your **** from my pay, what does it leave me with?"

"We'll see. Can't be that bad."

 

Well, actually it is. Not literally because Konkers is insured against physical stupidity the way things look. But the insurance agrees with me that he has acted very careless and has put him into a higher risk group, meaning his rates are higher.

"Why are you so breakable?" Of course he blames it all on me.

"Why are you such a clumsy clod?"

"Those rates are forever!"

"Only if you're not careful. If you don't break people for some time, they'll lower your risk again."

"How would you know?"

"Been there, done that?"

"As if." He gives me a onceover. "Truth?"

"What do you know about Tatooine?" I ask back.

"What you told me."

I think back, but of course I have seen no reason to divulge the more unsavoury aspects of my past. Not that there was much to tell apart from the normal rebellious phase in which you went off and broke things. I wondered if the Empire still had my record. Sounded likely, I mean, control freaks are real slobs compared to the Empire.