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Saga - ST [DDC 19] The Diary of a Miscreant

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by moosemousse, Jan 7, 2019.

  1. moosemousse

    moosemousse CR Emeritus: FF-UK South star 6

    Oct 3, 2004
    Author: moosemousse
    Era: Somewhere in the Sequel Trilogy
    Genre: Diary/assorted genres
    Characters: OCs
    Summary: An Oc's life takes a turn for the interesting as they try to navigate through the consequences of their actions.
    Author's notes: This is written as part of the Dear Diary 2019 challenge. For more information on the challenge, please see the challenge thread.
    I will be sending PMs when I update. If you would like to be added to the PM list, please ask and you will be added when I next update.

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  2. moosemousse

    moosemousse CR Emeritus: FF-UK South star 6

    Oct 3, 2004
    Dear Diary,

    Everyone makes stupid mistakes, everyone. For some it's like an avalanche or a waterfall and it's obvious that a mistake has been made with serious consequences. For others, it's a small mistake that's more like a drop of water. It could be mixing up two ingredients in a recipe or making a drink the wrong way. It's not a big deal and is soon forgotten. My mistakes were like those, except there was a precariously balanced bucket catching the drops of my mistakes.

    First it was going too near the wrong parts of town, then it was going into those wrong parts of town. Shortly after I started talking to the wrong people and then I was hanging out with them. The bucket slowly filled with my stupid mistakes and when it tipped over I found myself in the back of a delivery vehicle wearing a cheap mask and holding a blaster pistol.

    "What the frak am I doing?" I blurted out. "What the actual frak?"

    A burly Twi'Lek disguised as a Togruta glared at me. "You had better not be getting cold feet. There has been too much planning going into this for you to back out now. Is that clear?"

    I swallowed. "Yes, I mean no, I mean . . " I trailed off. "I don't know what to think."

    The Twi'Lek stood and grabbed the front of my disguise, pulling me to my feet and pushing me against the inside of the vehicle. "You have just one job to do. You had better perform that one job flawlessly. Understood?"

    "I, uh, yeah. Got it." It was more of a mumble than a proper answer, but he loosed his grip and moved back a little. Brushing his arm away, I put the pistol in its holster. I turned to the doors and stepped towards them. "I need some air."

    I think he was too surprised to do anything because he stood there and watched as I put my hand on the door handles. He didn't move a muscle as I opened the door only to have the handle wrenched from my hand.

    "Oh frak," was all I could say as I stared out into nothingness. Down below at least half a dozen layers of traffic moved in regimented lines, and it was so far to the ground that I couldn't really see it. One of the engines hiccuped and, already teetering on the edge, I lost my balance and fell out.

    The mask was pulled off by the air as it rushed past me, but I didn't really notice. I was more worried about the traffic and whether or not I would it or the ground. Somehow I managed to make it through the first layer just fine, though the second was a little too close. As I fell towards the third layer of traffic everything went blank.

    I knew I wasn't dead as I was dreaming. It was a particularly vivid dream that I forgot when I woke up, though I was breathing hard and my pulse was racing. Looking around I didn't recognise anything at all. Shortly after I woke, a young man about my age came in and tended to me. He explained that he had seen me fall and caught me on his speeder. He wasn't surprised that I didn't remember his daring rescue, which he assured me was rather daring, but he was puzzled by other memory loss. It was his idea that I keep a journal in case I forget anything important. I think it was because I had been there a few days and every time I woke up I had no memory of the day before.

    There is more to it than that, but that is roughly how I ended up on the bed of a nice young man with severe injuries that should have been fatal. And that bucket I mentioned earlier? Dealing with that is not going to be fun.

    But for now, I need my rest.

    Ah, uh, huh. Can't remember my name right now. It's probably not important right now.
    Kahara likes this.
  3. moosemousse

    moosemousse CR Emeritus: FF-UK South star 6

    Oct 3, 2004
    Dear Diary,

    I had a dream last night. I was back on the truck and it went as it did, right up until the point I opened the door. This time I had a plan. Instead of accidentally opening it, I forced it open hard. Instead of falling, I jumped. I had a gravchute with this time, and I would make it to the ground with no problems.

    Well, there was a problem. A large piece of cloth whipped out of nowhere and enveloped me. Sharp objects stabbed at me from all over as I struggled to free myself. I managed to get my face clear of the cloth and I kind of regretted it immediately. The ground was zooming in fast and I -

    Landed hard on the floor, wrapped up in bed sheets. Wincing, I opened my eyes and looked into a happy beaked face. The face had a long tongue that started licking my face. It seemed to like me from the fact it wasn't eating me, but after a few licks it became too much.

    The man who was looking after me rushed in and scooped up the creature with bird claws for feet. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know how he got in. Are you OK?" The creature make a kshhhh noise.

    Stumbling to my feet, the bedding came untangled and fell off. Cut marks and punctures were on my arms and some spots of blood were on my night clothes. "I had a bad dream. I got tangled up in something in the dream. I guess I know what that something was," I said, pointing at the sheets. "I think I know what kept stabbing me, too." I pointed at the creature as it wagged the fan of feathers it had for a tail.

    Kshhh Kshh!

    "I'm so sorry about that," said the young man, "I thought I'd closed the door properly." He scritched the creature behind it's large pointy ear.

    "Don't worry about it, really. I was mostly just surprised by it, that's all." I looked at the creature as it went kshhh again. "What is it?"

    It took him a few moments to register the question. "Oh, this? This is Pooka the mooka?" He stepped forward. "He seems to like you. You can pet him if you want, but you do have to be careful of his feathers."

    Pooka strained towards me in the man's arms. The mook was certainly cute, and reminded me of a dog somewhat, just with a beak instead of a muzzle and bird feet instead of paws. I held out my hand hesitantly and got my fingers licked. Pooka bumped his beak against my hand as if to say 'pet me, please' so I obliged. His head feathers were soft, especially right behind the four ears where I gave a little scritch. "You are a good boy."

    I looked at my arms as they still bled a little. There wasn't a lot of blood, but bleeding wasn't usually a good thing.

    "I'll go get you something for your arms," the young man said, holding out Pooka for me to take. "If you hold him, I'll be back in a minute."

    The mooka was lucky we didn't drop him as he jumped from one pair of arms into another. "Yeah, sure. He's a cutey, and he's not too heavy." He quickly settles down with his head on my shoulder, quietly making happy kshhh sounds. I could get used to having a mooka around. Maybe I'd have to get one when I get my life back in order.

    The young man was back too quickly, and soon he was treating my cuts.

    By the time he was done, I was feeling stronger and more capable. I helped him out whith his home, doing some light cleaning. There was something off about him though. He didn't trust me with his name. He said something about not knowing my name, which is fair, but the only reason he didn't have my name is because I couldn't remember it.

    I'm wondering if I'll ever remember my name. It'd be nice, I guess, but I can always get another one. Maybe I should just lose it and lose my whole past. Can someone do that?

    Well, I think that's a question for another day.

    I'm getting tired and I think I need sleep.


    A mooka is pretty much a dog-bird:
  4. moosemousse

    moosemousse CR Emeritus: FF-UK South star 6

    Oct 3, 2004
    Dear Diary,

    I took Pooka the Mooka for a walk. He seemed eager to go and I needed the fresh air. Living four floors above the main walkway provided some nicer views but it wasn't a quick stop out the door to get there. I wasn't really going anywhere, though I was making mental notes so I could get back.

    I paused on a bridge that spanned a large ravine between the buildings. I couldn't see the ground below us, but I could see two layers of traffic and could almost make out a third before the pollution got too think. Pooka, who had been making quiet kshh sounds of curiosity, suddenly went quiet. I didn't notice until he rubbed against my leg with an affection growl-like kshhh. Looking down, I noticed that he had pooped. I had been told he would, so I was prepared. As I pulled out a small bag, I stooped to pick it up.

    That was when I saw a Twi'Lek trying to be discreet as he walked to the middle of the bridge. I knew him well, even without his Togruta disguise. "The frakin Morganian cost us so much. The whole job was a bust and we have nothing to show for it."

    "Worse things have happened before, and I'm sure we'll bounce back from this too." I recognised the voice but couldn't place the name. "We've got people looking all over, and all escape routes are cut off. There's no way out."

    The Twi'lek banged his fist against that railing. "Whatever happens will not be soon enough!" He almost shouted but held it back. After taking a few calming breaths, he spoke again. "You know where to meet next?"

    "Yeah, I know it well," was the other guy's reply. "I'll see you there."

    With a grunt, the Twi'lek shrugged. "And there had better be some good news." He didn't wait for an answer as he walked away.

    I waited until he was off the bridge before I stood, poop bag in one hand and Pooka's lead in the other. Tossing the bag over the railing, I hurried back to where I had come from.

    The man looking after me would have to know about this, but how do I tell him? Maybe if I knew something about him it'd be easy. He doesn't look like anyone I know, which is odd because I know a lot of people.

    I think I'll sit down and have a talk with him tonight. We always seem to eat together so that seems look a good time.

    Still can't remember my own name though. Would be useful if I could.