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Despite the teasing of his closest vod'e and his relative anonymity when compared with some of his more memorable batchers, Bly was, in fact, a remarkably competent former Commander of the GAR. He handled post-war life with great aplomb (and no, Wolffe, that very much was not a made up word. Some vod'e just have class.). Bly paid the rent early whenever it was due every other month for his small but tidy apartment near one of the lower-level entrances to the jedi temple, he wrangled some of his less confident vod'ike into joining the assimilation and skill-training courses offered by volunteers and the Jedi. He'd even found a job for himself, sourced by neither the Jedi or another vod, at the cutest little bakery a city-sector over!
The point is, Bly could, and did, do a great many things.
What he could not do, apparently, was find one single, acceptable pair of boots for sale in the entirely of Coruscant.
It’s not like Bly hadn’t looked! At times it felt like he’d done nothing but look since Aayla had mentioned damaging hers. The problem lay not with finding an appealing pair of boots, but with how many different styles and types of appealing boots there were!
Boots with glimmer coatings and stone fastenings, boots of exotic leathers and metals and color-shifting plastics. Tall boots, and short boots, and tall boots with zips to turn them into short boots! Boots with hidden pockets and boots that hid nothing at all, boots with zippers and latches and clever ties and why, why were there so many options to pick from?! Who the ever-hateful sith hells actually needed such a selection!
Bly had fought many battles, but this, truly, was desperation. It was despair, and exhaustion.
It was turning the corner of a Benduday market to see a flash of red hair with Jedi robes and thinking, salvation.
For Obi-Wan Kenobi was also many things; he was a leader, a poet, Cody's beloved nerd and Aayla's favorite ba'vod. But most importantly to Bly, the man was iconic.
Kenobi wandered freely the line between pleasant diplomacies and traitorous ambushes during his Jedi missions, so functionality yet elegance were a necessity in his wardrobe. And those calf-hugging leather masterpieces certainly weren’t jedi issued.
Yes, Kenobi would do nicely. Bly slipped through the crowd and sidled up casually next to his prey, currently looking through the wares of a candy stand with all the obliviousness of a porg in a gundark nest.
“Oh hello, Bly! Have you tried any of Cintheea's spacemallow twists before?”
Or not.
Bly gave up on stealth and joined Kenobi in peering at the stand's display. There were tiny domes and stars and all matter of shapes covered with varying shades of chocolate on the left half of the stall, but the right side held an assortment of pastel and brightly colored…things. Some were in shapes with patterns on them, some were thin but spiraled in and wound with themselves to make thicker bundles, like the cinnamon twists Bly started whenever he had an opening shift. Whatever the color or design, all of the treats seemed to be made of a sturdy, firm material; a type of edible rock or perhaps a sponge, if Bly were to guess from the apparent surface texture.
Kenobi waited patiently for an answer while Bly made his observances.
“…no, I have not.” Bly finally said. “What is a spacemallow? Is it all of these, or just the twisted ones?”
Kenobi smiled brightly at him, gesturing towards the entirety of the weird things as he spoke. “It’s a type of squishy dessert, sometimes used as an ingredient or decoration for a larger dessert. All of these are spacemallows, although there is a little bit of a texture difference with the twists being a tad chewier. You can buy them in little factory-made bags inside many food shops, but Cintheea here makes the best spacemallow I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, if you’re in the mood for something fresh.”
At this, the elderly twi'lek running the stall scoffed fondly and turned towards the two if them. “Your flattery will get you nowhere, little scamp, they’re the same price for you as everyone else and you've long outgrown your little tooka face.” She met Bly's eyes next and suddenly smiled. “You've never tried a spacemallow, dear?”
Bly was honest. “No, sir, I have not.” Cody may take great delight in never calling anyone (except for when teasing his jedi) sir again, but Bly had a little something called manners. And the stand owner hardly seemed the type to get a swelled head from it if she was comfortable causally insulting Kenobi like that.
“Well there are certainly worse tragedies out there, but let's see if we can do a little something about this one, hmm? Pick three that catch your eye, sweetheart, on the house and we won’t tell a soul about it.”
She winked, and Bly found himself wondering if the bakery made anything with spacemallows and how they might feel about locally sourcing them. He studied the display again, settling on a rainbow twist, a yellow flower, and shimmery blue star that reminded him of Aayla.
“And as for you,” she addressed Kenobi after wrapping Bly's spacemallows in a little packet for him, “made any decisions yet?”
Kenobi had made some decisions, and ended up purchasing a veritable bouquet of spacemallow twist in every color available.
Kenobi laughed at Bly's mildly alarmed expression, bidding Cintheea a pleasant day and gesturing towards the quieter section of the marketplace where a few benches sat. “Come now, they aren’t all for me, and we can discuss whatever you've got on your mind so terribly while sampling our treats.”
So with one last, “Thank you, sir,” and receiving a cheery wave from Cintheea, Bly followed after him.
Kenobi knew the strangest people, Cody absolutely included in that, and yet of everyone he could've gone to for advice, Bly was very confident he would know the most superior options for Aayla.
Now how best to explain that Kenobi's darling niece broke her favorite boots on a slaver's face…
~~~
Aayla loved the purple, krayt leather replacements Bly ended up getting her with Obi-Wan's advice, and as it turned out?
Spacemallows are delicious.