Heyo, human beings from outer sapce!
It's almost scary how much I've been able to write in the past 2 1/2 half days. It's probably 'cause I didn't write at all over the week, not even on other projects, and it got all pent up inside of me until I vomited it up onto my digital paper.
But no one minds, right? I think I've just about exhausted my creativity at this point anyway, becuase these are getting shorter and sloppier.
This was requested by Kamalakhan, but if it's not quite what you're looking for, just let me know and I can fix up another more accurate one.
Read on if you dare.
"Hey, Ahsoka, why do you always hold stuff like that?"
Ahsoka glanced over at the girl who'd cocked her head to the side in curiosity.
"Like what, Trace?" asked Ahsoka.
"That." Trace gestured to the screwdriver in Ahsoka's hand. "Backwards."
"O-oh," Ahsoka became suddenly aware that she was gripping the handle of the screwdriver so the metal part of the tool dug into her forearm. "It's just natural, I guess?"
Trace hummed and gave Ahsoka an odd look as if she was contemplating whether or not she should believe the Togruta. "I've never met anyone who holds stuff like that so much."
"Sorry?"
"Is it like, your species kind of thing. Like, not in a rude way, of course," Trace quickly added. "I just wonder, because I've never seen anyone hold things backwards as much as you do."
Backwards was a new way of putting it and Ahsoka chuckled to herself. "Nope, just something I do. A habit."
Trace frowned. "That's an odd habit. You have to turn half the things you hold funny around to use them. Like that screwdriver. And your fork. You hold that backwards, too, and it's weird."
A tiny, sad smile drifted over Ahsoka's face as she thought back to all the times she'd done it unconsciously before. No one cared how she ate in the mess, but everyone cared how she ate on diplomatic missions, namely the ones when she went to protect Padmé and had to partake in meals.
Padmé would always kick her under the table or nudge her by the elbow when no one was looking, and nod aside to the eating utensil in Ahsoka's hand. Turn it around, Padmé would mouth or say with her eyes, and immediately Ahsoka would recognize her mistake and right herself.
"It's weird. Did the Skywalker Academy teach you to hold things backwards?" Trace said.
"No," Ahsoka said with a fond chuckle, pushing herself out from beneath the speeder she was working on to sit up, "actually, everyone there thought it was weird, too, and they told me I should learn how to hold things right."
"Did they make you learn?"
"Not necessarily," Ahsoka shrugged. "I know how to hold things right, but the reverse grip is much more comfortable." She sighed, fingers flexing and longing for the shape of her lightsabers, the heat wafting to her arms as she held them in her signature grip.
"Oh." Trace looked lost in thought. "Is it easier? Should I learn?"
Ahsoka stifled a laugh at that one. "Nope, not easier. As you said, I have to turn things around again to use them. It's just unorthodox and a little annoying."
"Oh," Trace repeated. "You think so?"
"Sometimes," Ahsoka said, again thinking about the diplomatic missions and her silverware complications. Then a new thought pricked her mind and she burst into laughter before she could stop herself, startling Trace and cupping a hand over her mouth to smother it.
"What?!" Trace shrieked, looking scandalized. "What is it?"
"N-nothing," Ahsoka managed.
"You can't just laugh like that and tell me it's nothing, liar," Trace crossed her hands over her chest firmly. "It's so annoying. Tell me!"
"Holding things backwards can be downright awful." Ahsoka held back a snicker as she remembered the first time Rex tried to teach her to shoot a blaster, and she kept trying to hold it with a reverse grip.
Then the fact that she learned to hold her lightsaber before a pen, and relearning how to hold writing tools was quite an adventure, one which frustrated both Ahsoka and her instructors.
Tace sighed, breaking her from the memories.
"You're so different from anyone else I know– not in a bad way, of course!" Trace corrected herself. "I wish I could do all the cool things you do. You know, like, everything and you even hold things cool."
Ahsoka burst with short laughter at that.
"You'll teach me some things, right?" Trace said, and the look she shot Ahsoka strikingly resembled the face of a youngling. The undertone to her voice matched it, unspoken words of I want to be just like you one day!
Trust me, Trace, Ahsoka thought back at that unspoken undertone. You don't want to be anything like me. It comes with a price.
But, because that would sound too sketchy and might earn her more distrust from Rafa, Ahsoka said aloud, "Sure, Trace, just tell me what you want to learn."
Trace hardly knew anything about Ahsoka– blissfully oblivious– and Ahsoka intended on keeping it that way.
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Word Count: 757
Published 10 September 2023
On a partially unrelated note, I found the clone wars audiobook and I've been loving listening to it and there was this one scene when a rodent ran by Rex and Ahsoka and rex was like "please don't try to eat that" 'cause Ahsoka was eyeing it up like lunch and Ahsoka laughed at him and was like "don't worry, I won't, rodents give me gas!" and they just moved on like nothing happened. So okay, I guess.
Requests are open feel free to message me or make a comment if you hae any ideas
Hasta la vida, peoples!