FA+
Shop
515 submissions
cpater three once again thank you Palmer711
Chapter 3: Treading on Thin Soles
The Starborn Flame glided smoothly through hyperspace, its cockpit bathed in the eternal glow of glowing stars. Blake leaned over the ship’s control panel, studying the ancient map. He had managed to decipher part of the text and determine that they were coordinates leading to a barren moon far from any major planetary systems. A promising start, but he would need more information to be certain.
As he worked, the laces of his Converse snaked out and tugged gently at a nearby compartment. Blake glanced down, frowning as they pulled the drawer open and extracted a hydrospanner, holding it out to him.
“I didn’t ask for that,” Blake muttered, though he couldn’t help but be impressed.
The laces wiggled insistently.
With a sigh, Blake took the tool. A moment later, the panel in front of him emitted a soft beep. A loose coupling had shifted out of place. He stared, then turned back to the converses.
“How did you know that was going to happen?”
The shoes gave a small shuffle, as if shrugging, which made Blake smile slightly.
Over the next few hours, Blake realized their helpfulness wasn’t a fluke. Whenever he dropped a tool, they caught it. When he reached for something, the shoelaces had already fetched it. They seemed to anticipate his every need, almost before he knew it himself, but for Blake, there was still something unsettling about their unrelenting enthusiasm.
The shoes seemed to radiate a peculiar aura. An almost desperate energy that Blake could sense through the Force. Although he wasn't a Jedi, heBlake was a Force user and he could tell, they didn’t just want to be helpful - they wanted to be worn. They needed it in a way that felt almost obsessive and it made Blake feel things he wasn't sure how to process.
Nevertheless he knew he had to explore this further.
“Alright, alright, you’re useful,” Blake sighed as he secured the map in a safe compartment. “But let’s see how you handle a little action.”
He walked over to the training room and unclipped his lightsabre from his belt. The weapon ignited with and its green blade hummed as he swung it in a smooth motion. Blake moved through the opening stances he'd been trained to do, his muscles relaxed and fluid and the Force flowed through him.
The Converses, however, had other ideas.
As Blake shifted his weight for a spin, they twisted his footing just slightly and made him stumble.
“Don’t do that.” He growled, recovering his balance.
The shoes wiggled innocently, as if nothing was wrong.
Blake resumed his practice, stepping into a defensive posture. The moment he lunged forward, the shoes jerked his foot sideways, sending him falling again onto the padded floor. His lightsabre deactivated as it slipped from his grip.
“Hey!” he snapped, staring down at them. “What is wrong with you?!”
The Converses shuffled awkwardly and laces curling up tight, which reminded Blake of an animal that had been cornered.
“Look, I acknowledge that you're alive and that you’re helpful. But you need to stop interfering when I’m training!” Blake groaned, picking himself up.
He reignited his lightsabere, only to trip again as the shoes shifted unpredictably. The blade scorched the floor as Blake hit the ground, his temper flaring.
“That’s it!”
He yanked at the Converses material, trying to tear the shoes off, but the laces lashed out and tied themselves tightly around his ankles. Blake could feel their energy radiate uo his legs and the anger coming from them filled his chest.
“Oh, so now you’re mad?” Blake said in an almost sarcastic tone, “You started this!”
The Converses stomped his feet against the floor, almost like a tantrum and then they began actively messing with Blake. They tossed tools across the room, knocked over his water bottle and tugging at his clothes and robe until he was tangled in its folds.
“Enough!” Blake roared, throwing his lightsaber through the air. The blade came dangerously close to his feet, and the Converses froze, their laces retreating to protect themselves.
The room fell silent, save for the hum of the lightsabre, which Blake deactivated with a sharp hiss, his chest heaving.
“Look,” he said, trying his best to make his voice calm. “I don’t know what you are or why you’re like this, but if we’re going to get along, you need to work with me. Not against me.”
The shoes seem to hesitate and then slowly shuffled position so Blake was stood in a more comfortable stance. They gave a small, apologetic tap and the laces loosened slightly.
“Alright. Truce?” Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The laces wiggled in agreement, though Blake couldn’t help but sense a faint defiance still coming from them.
“This is going to be a long trip.” He mumbled under his breath as he left the training room,
Below, the Converses squeezed Blake feet as he walked. They still wanted to help, but their growing bond with Blake was still potentially volatile. The road ahead promised many challenges - if they could manage to walk it together.
Chapter 3: Treading on Thin Soles
The Starborn Flame glided smoothly through hyperspace, its cockpit bathed in the eternal glow of glowing stars. Blake leaned over the ship’s control panel, studying the ancient map. He had managed to decipher part of the text and determine that they were coordinates leading to a barren moon far from any major planetary systems. A promising start, but he would need more information to be certain.
As he worked, the laces of his Converse snaked out and tugged gently at a nearby compartment. Blake glanced down, frowning as they pulled the drawer open and extracted a hydrospanner, holding it out to him.
“I didn’t ask for that,” Blake muttered, though he couldn’t help but be impressed.
The laces wiggled insistently.
With a sigh, Blake took the tool. A moment later, the panel in front of him emitted a soft beep. A loose coupling had shifted out of place. He stared, then turned back to the converses.
“How did you know that was going to happen?”
The shoes gave a small shuffle, as if shrugging, which made Blake smile slightly.
Over the next few hours, Blake realized their helpfulness wasn’t a fluke. Whenever he dropped a tool, they caught it. When he reached for something, the shoelaces had already fetched it. They seemed to anticipate his every need, almost before he knew it himself, but for Blake, there was still something unsettling about their unrelenting enthusiasm.
The shoes seemed to radiate a peculiar aura. An almost desperate energy that Blake could sense through the Force. Although he wasn't a Jedi, heBlake was a Force user and he could tell, they didn’t just want to be helpful - they wanted to be worn. They needed it in a way that felt almost obsessive and it made Blake feel things he wasn't sure how to process.
Nevertheless he knew he had to explore this further.
“Alright, alright, you’re useful,” Blake sighed as he secured the map in a safe compartment. “But let’s see how you handle a little action.”
He walked over to the training room and unclipped his lightsabre from his belt. The weapon ignited with and its green blade hummed as he swung it in a smooth motion. Blake moved through the opening stances he'd been trained to do, his muscles relaxed and fluid and the Force flowed through him.
The Converses, however, had other ideas.
As Blake shifted his weight for a spin, they twisted his footing just slightly and made him stumble.
“Don’t do that.” He growled, recovering his balance.
The shoes wiggled innocently, as if nothing was wrong.
Blake resumed his practice, stepping into a defensive posture. The moment he lunged forward, the shoes jerked his foot sideways, sending him falling again onto the padded floor. His lightsabre deactivated as it slipped from his grip.
“Hey!” he snapped, staring down at them. “What is wrong with you?!”
The Converses shuffled awkwardly and laces curling up tight, which reminded Blake of an animal that had been cornered.
“Look, I acknowledge that you're alive and that you’re helpful. But you need to stop interfering when I’m training!” Blake groaned, picking himself up.
He reignited his lightsabere, only to trip again as the shoes shifted unpredictably. The blade scorched the floor as Blake hit the ground, his temper flaring.
“That’s it!”
He yanked at the Converses material, trying to tear the shoes off, but the laces lashed out and tied themselves tightly around his ankles. Blake could feel their energy radiate uo his legs and the anger coming from them filled his chest.
“Oh, so now you’re mad?” Blake said in an almost sarcastic tone, “You started this!”
The Converses stomped his feet against the floor, almost like a tantrum and then they began actively messing with Blake. They tossed tools across the room, knocked over his water bottle and tugging at his clothes and robe until he was tangled in its folds.
“Enough!” Blake roared, throwing his lightsaber through the air. The blade came dangerously close to his feet, and the Converses froze, their laces retreating to protect themselves.
The room fell silent, save for the hum of the lightsabre, which Blake deactivated with a sharp hiss, his chest heaving.
“Look,” he said, trying his best to make his voice calm. “I don’t know what you are or why you’re like this, but if we’re going to get along, you need to work with me. Not against me.”
The shoes seem to hesitate and then slowly shuffled position so Blake was stood in a more comfortable stance. They gave a small, apologetic tap and the laces loosened slightly.
“Alright. Truce?” Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The laces wiggled in agreement, though Blake couldn’t help but sense a faint defiance still coming from them.
“This is going to be a long trip.” He mumbled under his breath as he left the training room,
Below, the Converses squeezed Blake feet as he walked. They still wanted to help, but their growing bond with Blake was still potentially volatile. The road ahead promised many challenges - if they could manage to walk it together.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 1280px
File Size 146 kB
Comments