Robin: I’m glad you all could be here to commemorate the worst day of my life.
BeastBoy: No, I thought the worst day of your life was when you didn’t get pulled on stage at that Spin Doctors concert.
Cyborg: Or when your aunt substitute-taught your sex-ed class.
Starfire: What about the day when we made you stop wearing your mask upside down?
Raven: I thought the worst day was the day you got that haircut that you currently have right now.
Robin: Remember that time when I got my shirt caught – wait a minute, why am I participating in this?
Honestly, tho, like, Kal doesn’t for a second seem to consider that if he misses the Nulls terribly, how much must the Nulls miss each other?
It’s Kal’s idea, in the beginning.
Everyone rotates. That’s how it works. Ordo stays on Coruscant—he’s the most proficient at logistics. They all can learn, true, but he has the eye for it. His mind constructs the paths to follow in a way that isn’t learned, can’t be taught.
High efficiency in half the time, and ARC Captain shouldn’t be in the field half as much as the jetiise say.
Mereel keeps his big mouth shut with a smile and terrible twinkle in his eye.
Ordo is safe that way. Safer. Safe enough.
They don’t argue—why would they?
They don’t talk about Geonosis like they don’t talk about Before. Before Kal is a whisper, a laugh, a choke hold in a starless night that happened, happens, happening, to someone else. Not then, not them.
Memory is funny.
Happened to someone else is a defense mechanism, they all know the lines they tell themselves to pack it away. On edge, dancing a tight precipice honed sharper by the day, and Someone Else scraped tighter by the spectre of Ordo before the fog. The fog that chases them, the fog that creeps in—that Ordo’s presence keeps at bay.