boxofmisfits | Mirror Image

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Mirror Image

In forty years, Thrawn had kept the galaxy, mainly the Unknown Region, safe from many threats. He did it with his beloved at his side, living a full life with the one he loved, even when Glenn remained young while Thrawn grew older. They both knew there would come a day when they would have to say goodbye forever.

That day came, and Thrawn's last wish was to see Csilla. Many strings were pulled, and the Ascendancy allowed Thrawn his request, as well as agreeing to rescind his exile, seeing as he wasn't going to cause more trouble.

On his deathbed, Thrawn had given Glenn some parting words: "I hope you understand why I never told you this. I had to keep it a secret, to ensure the galaxy's safety. Not even Pellaeon or Parck knew of this. Forty years ago, I placed my genetic material into a cloning cylinder, in the event that I was ever killed. The cylinder was programmed to activate once I was declared dead." He'd reached into his pocket and given Glenn a datacard with directions to where he was keeping the clone. The card also contained the same message Thrawn had given Glenn, in the event that he died before he could tell his mate. "Go there, Glenn. Keep him safe until he is done. Know that you made the galaxy a brighter place for me."

Mitth'raw'nuruodo died the next day. A few loyal Chiss and Empire of the Hand members attended his funeral, where he was put to rest in the Mitth family crypt, alongside his brother. Thrawn had made sure his brother's remains had been found and given a proper resting place.

Meanwhile, on the edge of the Outer Rim, a cloning cylinder activates.

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"Hmm."

Glenn's gaze is a little distant as he processes those words along with his own thoughts and feelings.

Ultimately, he just wants to cry, but he doesn't give in to the feeling. It's hard for him to communicate how those words both are a comfort as well as leave a painful sting behind.

It took him nearly 300 years to move forward after Clara, and over half of those years were spent in solitude, guilt wrapped around him so strongly that it slowly choked him.

"...Having a long life span like mine is truly a blessing and a curse," he says after a moment. "My mind ages just as slowly as my body, if not slower. And as I watched him grow in spirit and mind, I... I have only aged about a year or three at most since then. Even in mind."

He blinks sharply.

"...There's nothing to be done for the limits of life span unless I one day take on an Igaean mate and hope that they share my views. Even then, I may very likely age faster than they do. And so therefore, I would then only perpetuate the pain that I have felt onto another."

More than once, his instincts have urged him to make his mate just like himself. But with the vaccines in play, it's impossible. And he'd never betray anyone's trust and do something that they would not consent to.

"Ah, when you are ready to go outside, I will probably take a short sprint around the area to clear my head. You are welcome to ride on my back, though you will have to hold on tightly.

Glenn is an interesting look at species that age slowly. He still looks like a young man, and his mind is also that of a young man's, rather than an old man in a young body. He wonders if that's how it is for other species that age slowly, like the Gen'dai. Thrawn also isn't getting any indication from Glenn that the original Thrawn felt any resentment that he got old while his mate stayed young. Thrawn also knows this to be true because it's how he would feel.

"I would like some fresh air," He finishes off his ration bar and starts putting the boots on. "Ride on your back, you say?"

"Yes."

His own bar quickly finished, Glenn shifts his body into that of a beast, stretching a little as his bones, muscles, and general mass rearrange themselves with sickening noises. He keeps his face and the inside of his throat close to the same, even though his whole body is covered with black feather-fur, and large, graying pinions. With them taking on a larger size, it's clear that there's blood flow coursing through them.

"This is a useful form. I can move about as quickly as a speedbike."

His long ears twitch upward, and then swivel a little. The feathers adorning his short tail makes the wagging much more noticeable.

"I would also go patrolling like this. Minus the human face. I am not capable of speech if I change that, though."

He tilts his head, and a faint smile tugs his lips.

"Should you accept, you may wish to tie your hair back to prevent it from knotting."

Processing his own thoughts on the matter, he uses a paw to rummage around in the trunk, and pulls out a simple hair ribbon, and uses a tentacle to drop it onto the bed. It's hand made, crafted of long, braided pearlescent fibers.

"Just in case you find it distasteful, it's modified spider silk made from my cells. It's based on the species of arachnids from my homeworld that could create it, though nothing of this thickness prior to genetic engineering. It's durable and not likely to fray or tear."

Thrawn's eyes go wide as Glenn transforms before his eyes. He got the impression that Igaes can shapeshift based on the artwork, but somehow he didn't know it was this extensive. This is on the same level as a shi'ido.

"Fascinating," He approaches Glenn and runs a hand through his fur, noting the texture.

As Glenn offers him the tie, he accepts it, running his finger along it to note how it feels. "My thanks," He ties back his hair with the spider-silk ribbon. He wonders if he should cut it short like his predecessor did, or keep it long for a while.

With his hair tied, he climbs up onto Glenn's back. "Shall we?"

Glenn's eyes shutter slightly in pleasure as he's touched, but otherwise restrains his reaction. He is a bit surprised to be so readily climbed upon, not at all affected by Thrawn's weight. He keeps his head human as he starts at a slow walk, wanting his rider to be able to get accustomed to sitting on a living mount.

"If you need to dig your heels into my sides, or hold tightly to my fur or neck, do so. You won't hurt me significantly, if at all, and it is better than risking you falling off. Let me know when you feel comfortable with me going faster."

But he leads them outside all the same, taking a large breath as the doors open and the sounds and scents of the outdoors flood in. The sunlight is pleasant, and Glenn purr-clicks loudly to see what sorts of feedback he can get. His long ears tilt upward, the little fleshy prongs vibrating slightly from the movement.

"...Sounds peaceful enough. No alarming noises, or lack thereof, from smaller creatures, and no scent marking from dangerous predators nearby."

He keeps an easy pace for now, patiently awaiting for any moment Thrawn wishes him to speed up as they take in their surroundings. The sunlight is also pleasant to feel, and not too hot. Though the brightness of it hurts his sensitive eyes a little, his body still derives some nutrients from the exposure. Even so, the pain is easily remedied when he modifies some of his skin and fur to form a pair of sunglasses, the metal frames anchored to his skin and skull directly to keep them in place.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, turning his head and craning it up a bit to look at the other man. "Let me know if you need some sunglasses, too. I'll make them."

"I will keep that in mind." He knows how to ride a speeder, since Thrawn gave him that knowledge in the flash learning, but riding a speeder is different than riding a living mount. He's also never actually ridden a speeder, to boot.

As they step into the sunlight, Thrawn blinks, his eyes getting used to the brightness. Once his vision adjusts, he gazes around. He knows this place, has memories of it, and yet here he is, going outside for the first time and seeing it with his own eyes. He breaths in the mountain air, and the scent of the flowers.

Looking behind him, the fortress looms over them. Were they to go up into the air, it would be obvious that the fortress is shaped like a hand. The Hand of Thrawn.

"Some sunglasses would be appreciated, yes."

Glenn stops for a moment to fashion a pair from his cells - primarily his fur, with broad lenses in order to keep the sunlight out from many angles rather than just straight ahead, like some more narrow pairs.

He then detaches the object from his fur and offers it for Thrawn's inspection, ears perked in anticipation for how it's received. They should fit, since-- Thrawn isn't much different in terms of facial structure compared to how his mate was, barring the changes caused by age and any stress.

"I can modify them further if the fit is off,"he adds. Then, almost playfully, "Or if you dislike their coloration." Much like Glenn's own, they're gray and rather plain. Functional.

Thrawn examines the sunglasses, turning them over in his hands, amazed that Glenn made these from his own cells. Even the shi'ido cannot do that. He can think of so many applications for this, though it's likely that the original Thrawn had that same thought.

"The coloration is fine," He puts the glasses on, concealing his glowing eyes. "Take me wherever you wish, Glenn."

This place hasn't changed much, based off the flash learning memories of this planet. There's trees, grass, flowers, mountains, and a lake near the fortress.

Edited 2020-11-14 03:25 (UTC)

"Certainly. You may keep them if you wish. My body will regenerate the lost mass within a day at most."

The rest of his face finally shifts, features elongating to take on the look of a wolf's. He gives his head and neck a bit of a shake as he walks them both, balance deftly kept so as to not jostle Thrawn much at all. A few insects drift near, but then away as Glenn's scent gives off a subtle shift in smell.

Eventually, Glenn gets to softly purring again, the vibrations barely felt through his back. Often, his ears move and swivel to take note of each and every sound they come across.

Unless something becomes worrisome, or Thrawn has questions, Glenn is content to remain otherwise silent.

"Your species is remarkable. Especially considering that your nature as a hybrid didn't dampen your shapeshifting or regeneration." Glenn said that he'd been grown in a tube, like himself, so he wonders if that was intentional on the part of those who made the hybrid.

Riding Glenn is different that riding a speeder, according to his implanted memories. Even if Glenn is being careful with his rider, there's no denying that riding a living mount feels different when compared to riding a machine. Thrawn digs his hands into Glenn's fur to keep a grip on him.

Such a comment does get Glenn to revert the changes of his face. He gives a little shake of his head, ears tilting back slightly. He feels Thrawn grabbing him more firmly, but it doesn't bother him - there's only a subtle twitch of the skin beneath, almost like a tickle reflex.

"Actually, my nature as a hybrid did ruin my ability to regenerate compared to a pureblood species. Particularly early on when I was nineteen and just awakened to that. All the scars on my body are from that-about hundred year period just trying to stop my body from scarring over. That, and I had no access to the right food types to keep up with my body's energy requirements, complicated by my loathing of eating meat. So, for the most part, my body was starving too badly to heal well. So it's ruined the majority of the sensory nerves under my skin, save for a few locations. Your template found out by kicking me in the thigh when we sparred together for the first time."

The memory almost feels like it happened yesterday, too....

"I am really only able to perceive most touch if I am looking at where I am touched, where my memory of touch fills in the gaps. Or if it gets into a place between scars."

One ear tilts to the side, and he adjusts his movements to hopefully make it easier for Thrawn to adjust to riding him a little faster. Ultimately, he forms a few tentacles into makeshift stirrups, giving Thrawn more leverage. They gently nudge around the toes of his boots and then still.

"Actual Igaes have the ability to regenerate far better than I. They can do it without any scarring occurring at all. Even as children.

"I still keep up with the species via some long-distance cameras just outside the planets' habitable atmosphere. At least, in as far as a very limited area. They're still in a primitive state in their history, but their abilities to adapt are far more remarkable than my own. And since their power is likely greater than mine, it's worth it to keep an eye on the species and make sure, if nothing else, the species is not used for one-sided gain."

"And they age much more slowly than I do, at that."

Thrawn shifts position slightly so he can better hold on to Glenn. "Still, it proves that it is possible to cross the two species and not have the resulting person show much in the way of defects. Cloning used to be an imperfect science like that, but clearly it came a long way before the Clone Wars."

He looks up as he spots birds flying overhead, just letting himself enjoy the sights and sounds of nature.

Glenn feels Thrawn's weight shift a bit, and Glenn is careful to slow down and accommodate, and then resumes his prior pace once he's sure everything's squared away. He's not sure what else to say right now, so he lets silence fall, and looks up as he hears the beating of wings, followed by Thrawn's movements. His long ears tilt upward, perking high on his head. Reflexively, he rapidly clicks at them in a nonsense greeting, his back end wagging hard to make up for the shortness of his tail.

Thrawn glances down at Glenn, while the birds pay no mind to them and just fly overhead. "Do you typically chatter at birds?" Last time he checked that was a feline behavior.

"Uh."

Immediately, his ears swivel back, the insides and fleshy barbs turning pink and absolutely lighting up in the infrared. At least he doesn't lose his stride.

"Not... just birds," he replies haltingly. "It's also interesting to see how other creatures react to different sounds. If anything."

"Those birds may not have heard you, or just disregarded the noises you made, since they were not those of their natural predator nor was it similar to the noises they themselves make."

Thrawn glances over his shoulder for a moment. "Do not stray too far from the fortress. I wish for it to be in sight while we explore." Even if Glenn can smell his way back, Thrawn prefers to take this one step at a time.

"Hmm." If anything, Glenn's embarrassment deepens, but he's grateful for the change in topic. He blinks a little and tilts his head as he processes their current location compared to the fortress, and nods.

"Thank you for letting me know. I will encircle it, then."

Glenn changes course enough to bring the fortress a little more into view, and then proceeds onward. Like this, and so long as he's careful not to drift too far among trees from time to time, it should remain always in sight.

"How are you faring on my back so far? I hope-- I am not terribly uncomfortable for you."

Honestly, some part of him means it also on an emotional level as well.

"I am doing fine," Thrawn reassures Glenn. After all, Glenn is the one who offered him a ride. Though, he now wonders if Glenn ever did this for the original Thrawn, or if the original even enjoyed something like this.

"You can go faster, if you want. I will hold on tightly."

"I see. Then, just in case...."

A tendril ripples out of his back, covered in a thin amount of fur, and slowly coils against the center of Thrawn's waist at the back. It's warm, even through clothing, especially as he adjusts its size and his pulse races through the body part.

After a moment's deliberation, he coils it around Thrawn once, mindful not to touch more than just his back out of respect for him. There's also plenty of room for Thrawn to actually get off of him if he wants to.

"While I do not predict there will be any use for my top speed, if my fur does not give you the leverage you require, like this I can offer you a bit more stability."

Still, as a start, he eases into a trot, although even that is a bit faster than one would expect something of his size to be able to move. The fluidity of his movements also, perhaps, tell of the precision he boasts with those movements. His body shifts and flexes beneath Thrawn to make the movements feel less abrupt, and the tentacle he's extended helps to offer any additional bracing leverage for the younger man to use.

His footholds are just as precise, and while Glenn may shift a little waywardly in his path to minimize jostling, he's still mindful to keep the fortress always in Thrawn's sight.

His ears are slightly folded back to minimize hearing the wind whistling into them, but only just.

"I trust you." While Thrawn is slightly anxious, he knows that Glenn won't let him fall, and can easily catch him if he slips off. He clutches at the fur and tightens his thighs on Glenn as he begins to trot.

It doesn't take long for Thrawn to get used to it, since Glenn's not jostling him with his movement. He's actually surprisingly smooth to ride. Thrawn grips the tentacle just for extra balance, still not used to riding anything other than a machine.

Glenn, of course, hears the effects of anxiety on Thrawn's cardiovascular system, but doesn't comment on it. He maintains his smooth stride, and very gently speeds up further in order to minimize even further jostling. His movements flow into one another, muscles rhythmically stretching and contracting. His breathing increases to an audible level as he shifts the structure of his head and face, but it's still easy and even. The larger nostrils and mouth just make it easier for him to gather the breath he needs to avoid overexertion.

If Thrawn looks, although the pace is easy, Glenn only has one paw on the ground at some points.

At times, he softly clicks and trills at Thrawn to communicate, the sounds gentle and soothing, but otherwise, completely meaningless to the Chiss.

Thrawn actually starts to smile as he rides Glenn, much like someone riding a speeder for the first time, and the extra appendages that Glenn produced for his convenience make him feel safe, knowing that he won't fall off.

Looking up, he can see rain clouds on the horizon. "Perhaps you should return us to the fortress. It may be about time for me to reveal myself."

Glenn smells the potential for rain before he sees it, snuffling the air as he slows down a little. He turns his head a bit to regard Thrawn with one eye, the iris briefly reflecting Thrawn's red, and he gives a nod in answer. Turning around, he starts up slow again and then breaks into an easy run like before, only slightly winded from a general lack of exercise over a prolonged period.

But rather than heading for the cloning facility aspect of the fortress, he makes a line for the main entrance. Without any complaints to the contrary, this is where he stops for them, and patiently waits for Thrawn to dismount before returning to human form.

Thrawn easily slides off Glenn, taking a moment to stretch after that ride. "Thank you, Glenn. That was most enjoyable."

Waving Glenn along, Thrawn makes his way inside the fortress. The front area doesn't have anybody but some guard droids, who remain inert, apparently recognizing Thrawn. He makes his way to the lift and from there, one of the main chambers, where Thrawn and Parck would convene.

In this room are many Chiss at computers and an elderly Chiss sitting on a chair in the center of the room, overlooking things. The elderly Chiss sees Thrawn and his red eyes widen, looking as if he's seen a ghost.

Thrawn's clone smiles pleasantly, looking very much like his template. "Hello Commander Kres'ten'tarthi."

"Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo?" Stent takes a moment to process this. "Clever Thrawn cloned himself, I see." Stent turns his gaze to Glenn, husband of the late Syndic and Grand Admiral. "Am I correct?"

"You are correct," Glenn replies, standing mostly at attention out of politeness. He knows he hasn't really socialized much with anyone here since his arrival to guard his mate's clone. Fortunately, despite the more or less prolonged disuse of his voice, he sounds like he's never stopped talking.

"My mate, just prior to his death, gave me notice of such plans. And based on him keeping that secret until such a time impressed upon me the prerogative to act with similar secrecy in kind."

After all, he's never let anyone near where Thrawn's chamber was, his instincts refusing to allow him to entertain anything else, and grief left him rather crippled in terms of the energy to socialize.

Perhaps selfishly, he still worries about the loss of purpose now, and that he might be sorely tempted to eventually retreat back into himself, but he knows that it is no one else's burden to bear but his own.

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