Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 6, 2015 23:22:26 GMT -8
She’d been vigilant to mentally map the quickest route back to the ship before sliding her E-11 into its holster. The derelict craft around them gave another shudder as Lia shouldered past Rik’s outstretched helping hand and ‘ladies first’ expression. She lowered herself part way, careful not to clang her grav boots on the metal rungs. “If I die on this ship, I’m gonna kill you,” she said matter-of-factually, giving Rik a scathing glare before making her way down the access shaft. The only reason she’d agreed to him roping her into this venture was because he’d promised her (on pain of death) a cut of the profit after he sold ‘all the glorious six-figure salvage’ waiting for them somewhere inside. …That, and maybe she was secretly hoping he’d fall through the floor and break his confidence, since her tart attitude and glacial expressions weren't doing the trick.
Lia was accomplished at being quiet. In fact, she’d made it all the way down the hatch without so much as a peep. It was a lengthy descent, but she was used to climbing around in weird spaces for long periods of time. Rik closed the top hatch, re-pressurizing the access way, and at a nod from her, hit the controls to open the bottom hatch. Lia re-situated her shield, drew her E-11, and dropped to the ground in the hallway below, hoping the floor was solid and safe. It was.
The entire time he stalked the hallway he kept low and moved slowly and carefully. He listened closely for any signs of life aboard the derelict ship other than himself.
The man in front of her was definitely not safe.
Instinct kicked in, even before she saw the hint of a lightsaber at his belt, the sinister flash in his green eyes. With a startled yelp, she had her E-11 up and had squeezed off two shots before her brain caught up with her body, backpedaling away from the Force user as fast as she could.
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 6, 2015 20:07:23 GMT -8
Thunk. Hissssss."Right, looks like the seal is good, but I'm not taking any chances on this one. We're gonna vent the atmo from the boarding tube once we're inside and use it as an airlock while I cut us an entrance." The freighter from which the thunk hiss had emanated was latched onto the side of the starboard command tower, while its port docking tube was extended straight down on top of the dorsal span between the two command towers, right above the main reactor housing. Or one and a half towers, rather. "Put this on." He handed Lia, who stood behind and slightly to the side of him, a small mechanical object that vaguely resembled a shield generator belt. "It'll protect you from vacuum for up to twelve hours, give or take. You'll still need the breather mask though, so don't leave that behind." He sealed his own mask in place as the boarding tunnel doors slid open, then stepped inside and waited for Lia to join him before closing them and heading to the other end. For this particular excursion, he'd opted to don his heavy combat coat, which had duranium pauldrons and was reinforced with cortosis weave for durability. In the satchel slung over his left shoulder, he carried a multitude of various tools as well as several varieties of grenade, and a spare enviro-shield in case his or Lia's broke and the need arose for a new one. He also carried a custom lightning rifle over his other shoulder, his pistols holstered at his hips, and his usual assortment of rocket boots and shield generators, both of which had been tinkered with extensively on the trip here. "Cut the gravity. We're gonna be dropping in from above and I don't want to get pulled two different directions during transition." That's as sure a way to lose your lunch and wind up with a concussion as I've ever seen. Perhaps you should try it then. A good concussion may make you more amenable to my proposals. He muted his external comm. "Shut the kriff up and let me work." Once the gravity was shut off, he activated the grav-plates in his boots, opened the door between him and the venator, and went to work with the lightning gun, burning out a door-sized chunk of the hull in a matter of minutes. When the chunk fell to the floor several meters below with a thud, he stepped forward and dropped in after it, pleased to note that the grav-plates in this portion of the ship were still active. He glanced around for a moment before looking back up at Lia. "Come on. Looks like this section still has gravity." They weren't actually within the ship yet, this corridor would be little more than a maintenance access tunnel this close to the dorsal hull, but there would probably be an access hatch into the ship itself not too far away. Normally, when you’re a paranoid fugitive with a forty-eight million credit bounty on your head, poking around old Imperial Navy ruins is not something you’d readily volunteer for, especially when you know it’s attracted other attention.
Unfortunately for Lia Corusa, Rik had decided to save her the trouble of refusing and volunteer her anyway, and no amount of arguing, weapon-waving, or detailed death threats were getting her out of accompanying him on his salvage adventure. “This is by far the worst idea you've had so far,” she snapped as her boots hit the deck a few paces from Rik, her sharp gaze darting around. The blond was on high alert, E-11 at the ready, adrenaline bringing the dark, dead ship into crisp focus. “Let’s go take a stroll through a ruined Destroyer, because that can’t end badly.” Self-preservation fought hard to take over, trained instinct to run building in her legs, but she knew her chances of staying alive were better with Rik than hiding back in her stowaway closet.
Lia double-checked the gauntlet shield-generator on her right wrist, giving the cable launcher attached to it a look over. Her hair spilled over one shoulder, a mess of tousled waves and uneven braids. “You know there are others here, we heard them on the comms” she hissed at Rik, edging closer to him. “Not smart. This place has ambush written all over it. We’re gonna get in someone’s way, they’re gonna strip you of all your fancy gadgets, space us both, and take your ship apart.”
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 5, 2015 20:12:58 GMT -8
“Escort? The hell I will.” Lia focused her usual frosty, sour green glare on Rik and crossed her arms over her chest, her borrowed leather jacket scrunching and creaking with the movement. She was so done with this circus. Done with Captain Way-Too-Confident, done with these stragglers and their mystery cargo, and done with this Malora charade and this weirdly minty-smelling skank getup. She’d given Surplus (because she hated indulging Rik’s little nicknames, no matter how fitting they were) a wide amount of space during the tour, watching him carefully, ready to put one through his back if he sneezed in a way Lia didn't like. So far, he didn't feel very threatening. Not that her people-reading skills were particularly good or anything. But she certainly wasn't about to go one-on-one and show him around the cargo bay.
The fugitive tipped her chin up a little, jaw set. “It’s your damn boat, you do it, Captain Rik. I've got other duties to attend to,” she said sharply. Like cleaning your galley, fantasizing about shooting you again, arranging your impending fall from Egomaniac Land…
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 2, 2015 14:22:06 GMT -8
And THIS was why she never booked normal passage or hung out in the open.
Years and years of stowing away, avoiding contact with others, keeping to herself, and not once did Lia ever question her tactics. It was to avoid situations like these, and nine times out of ten, it worked without a hitch. “I should've stayed in the closet,” she growled as she ascended into Rik’s ship as quickly as humanly possible. Ripping her breathing mask off once inside, Lia adjusted the borrowed skankfit she was wearing and swept her gaze around her surroundings, picking out possible defend-able locations and marking all the exits with a practiced eye. Her blaster was out, and it was gonna stay that way because whoever the fuck Malora was, she sent Melia into Terminator mode. Two unknowns, one obviously not hesitant about violence, a load of mystery cargo (after rooming with a few of those on various flights, Lia had learned to be very very wary of crates no one wanted to define), and a detour.
Yeah. To say Lia was on edge would be the understatement of the century.
Don’t ask questions. It was a big rule for her. But given the way of things the past twenty minutes, she’d make an exception. Next time Rik had a minute, he was getting an earful.
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 31, 2015 19:41:54 GMT -8
Malora? Elegance? Nubian pleasure-…? Lia lowered herself into the ship, hoping to ‘accidentally’ kick Rik in the head on her way down, but he’d left her too much space and her foot fell short. Oh you are SO lucky all I can do is glare right now, she thought venomously, her jaw clenched under her breath mask, careful to stand slightly behind the ‘mechanic extraordinaire’. Her DL-44 was out but trained on the floor. Unease set her body tense, ready. Seeing Imperial trooper helmets was never a good sign.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 29, 2015 20:38:58 GMT -8
"You can go hide in the closet if you want, but I'm not going to stand by and watch if there's even the slightest chance they're telling the truth." Which they aren't, by the way. He ignored the voice and pulled his jacket on before heading out of the workshop and making his way back up to the boarding tubes. "Besides, I'm curious." “No one’s that nice,” she mumbled disbelievingly, watching him leave the workshop. Obviously, Rik's confidence had killed brain cells if he was willing to walk into the unknown to sate his curiosity, even if that was his second reason. His description of death via space hadn't gone unnoticed, though. He spoke like he knew it intimately. Were Lia a social creature by any degree, she’d wonder about the story behind that little nugget of information, but she’d learned a long time ago that if you don’t want people asking questions about you, don’t ask them questions about themselves.
She paced the workshop for a short few minutes, chewing on her options, uncomfortable in her borrowed leather clothes. After playing out too many ‘worst case scenario’ scenes in her mind, Lia halted, dropping the breathing mask and the shield on the counter. “Fuck that, I’m not gonna get caught because Saint Rik wants to play hero,” she said, turning on her heel and heading back towards her room.
She made it about halfway there before something spun her around and sent her back into the workshop, swiping the mask and the shielding unit and hurrying towards the docking ring. No, it wasn’t a conscience. It was the logic she’d brushed off in her haste to keep herself safe. If Rik, who was currently not an enemy, died over there, she’d be left to deal with whatever came across that gangway alone. Lia could outrun anything on the ground, hide and blend in easily, but here? Here, she was stuck. And unless they were amateurs, two against one were not good odds if it came to fighting. Which it usually did.
Besides, if it came to blasters, Rik made a good meatshield.
Securing the breath mask over her nose and mouth, Lia fastened the shielding unit to her belt, drew her DL-44, and followed suit across the gangway despite everything in her wanting to turn back. Her feet came down as he thudded on the hatch, and she had to do a little maneuvering to keep from landing feet first on Rik’s head. “I’m already regretting this,” she said, touching down behind him. The blond grabbed the back of his jacket to steady herself, glaring down at the hatch as if she could burn through it and see what was waiting for them. Anyone who'd be hunting her would know from her file she was usually alone and despised traveling with others. If they were after her, maybe having Rik around would throw them off. “Just pretend I'm your sister if they ask. Call me...I dunno...something that's not Lia. If they so much as blink wrong, I’m shooting.”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 29, 2015 17:37:41 GMT -8
He snatched a second, much more ordinary, breath mask off a nearby hook and pushed it into Lia's hands. " You are coming with me. There's at least two ambushers on that boat, and while I may be good, I'd rather not take chances." While he talked, he'd begun heading back down to his workshop, and once he got there began fastening a veritable plethora of gizmos onto his person, as well as taking the time to hand Lia a small belt-mounted shielding unit. "It's more powerful than it looks. Should stop a couple shots from anything short of a laser cannon. Slugs, too, if these guys fancy the gory route." “Woah, hold up, I am not going with you,” she said sharply, shielding unit in one hand, a still dripping scrubber in the other as she followed him around the workshop. “I clean your galley, you give me passage, that was the deal. Walking into obvious traps was not part of it.” Self-preservation at all costs was a pretty easy lifestyle. Lonely, if you cared about that sort of thing, but easy. No one mattered but you. If you had to throw your friend under the bus to avoid your enemies, that’s what you had to do. She didn’t necessarily like it, but she never felt bad about it, either, because given the chance, everyone else would do the same damn thing. Deep down, people were all the same. More rotten than anything. Every once in a rare while there was a sweet grape among the sour, but not enough to change her views. No, the only thing that mattered in the long run was her own skin.
And this situation was threatening that. Because when you’re a fugitive with a sizeable bounty and zero faith in the way of the ‘verse, a ‘damaged ship asking for help’ was an immediate red flag. And she was trapped between two disabled ships in the black of space with no obvious way out.
Of course, she couldn’t explain this to Rik, and she couldn’t just lock him in the workshop and take over the cockpit because the ship was broken, so that left… what? Lia dropped the soggy rag and raked her hair out of her face, staring at Rik, alarm slowly creeping in as she ran through scenarios in her mind. What if this was all a setup? What if they’d finally tracked her down? What if this was it? “You should have left me in the locker. We have no idea who’s over there, this is… I can’t go over there. YOU shouldn’t go over there. Just…just fix your ship and let’s vamoose, who cares about a couple of spacers anyway?” It all spilled out in a very uncharacteristic show of panic. Mild, angry panic, but it was there. Like an animal backed into a corner.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 27, 2015 10:52:15 GMT -8
“HEY.” Lia stood at the entrance to the engine room, waving smoke away from her face, a dripping scrubber cloth still in her other hand. “RIK. Control your damn ship or I swear to God, I’ll leave the roaches I just found in your food processor to their nesting!” she barked at him through the chaos, coughing a little. After spending almost two years breathing in the mix of chemicals the Nar Shaddaa Underworld called air, a little bitter smoke wasn’t all that big a deal. Still. She could feel it sting going down her windpipe and her eyes were getting filmy.
“What the hell happened?!” Lia yelled, noting the ache in her head. One minute she’d been on hands and knees under the sink scrubbing at something green and gooey, and the next she’d been thrown head first into the back of the cabinet.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 22:01:19 GMT -8
With an expression that would've sent The Emperor running, Lia dragged the jacket zipper back up to her neck, jaw set and eyes narrowed. “I was preparing to hack your system to find out back in my locker before your damn floating ball-tech interrupted me,” she snapped. “But beds and clothes have zero to do with it. Now it’s different because I’m out in the open, and you’re-..”
Lia pulled up short. He looked interested in her answer. Time to shut up. “No, you know what? It’s not that different at all. As long as it’s not Coruscant or Falleen or Ord Mantell, I really don’t care. I’ll get through, I always do.” She fell silent and looked away, the conversation clearly closed, but she could feel his eyes on her. “Do yourself a favor, space boy, and don’t ask me questions. …in fact, don’t talk to me at all, much easier that way.”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 19:51:15 GMT -8
Lap? Ugh. Men. Face deadpan, Lia stared at Rik for a minute in deadly disgusted silence before retreating back to the chair farthest away from his. Her family, the scheming criminals they’d been, had been slaughtered, lifestyle of the rich and famous ripped from her and burned to ashes, there was a price on her head and she lived in constant paranoia, but it was this man’s bulletproof confidence and sharp, smarmy spacer attitude that got under her skin and pissed her off worse than anything else she’d encountered. And he had to know that, because the more she glowered, the more he laid it on, and she couldn’t not be pissed off about it because he annoyed her so damn much, so the circle continued.
“Figgy?” Lia quickly strapped herself in, wishing she were back in her little locker, safe from presumptuous assholes and turbulence alike. She had lots of experience weathering rough rides in weird places. The blond cast a dubious look at the droid in the co-pilots seat. “..Does it like pudding or did you just run out of brainpower trying to name it? And where the hell are we going anyway? You never did say. I need to know, it's important.”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 19:09:26 GMT -8
The door slid open. “What’s your next port? Because I need actual clothes before I go my own way.” Lia finished the buckle on her belt and shouldered past him before he could get a clear look (why give him the pleasure?), clearly unhappy with her situation. “I’ll clean your damn galley as Dominatrix Barbie, but this shit?” She turned, gesturing to the outfit as she walked backwards. “This does not blend in. I need to blend in.” The fugitive wheeled back around and continued down the hallway. “And who knows what kind of sweaty hooker was all up in this leather. Gross. ...you gonna show me where to ‘secure’ myself or do I need to punch you again?” she snapped, pausing halfway down and sending a green glare over her shoulder.
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 18:22:22 GMT -8
Really? Punched in the face and shot at, and you’re not even a little wary? Great. A dozen ships docked on Tatooine and I pick the one manned by Casanova.
“You’d mind when I carve out your eyeballs,” she said quietly, matching the near-whisper tone he’d used a few minutes ago. She added a dangerous little smile, but it disappeared quickly, replaced by her usual tightly-wound, trust no one, I-hate-the-world sour expression. Lia turned on her heel and strode towards the door. “I’d shut up ‘n quit while you’re ahead, if I were you, Rik,” she growled over her shoulder as she hit the stairs two at a time.
She found the rooms easy enough, picking the smallest one farthest from the captain’s quarters. After stashing her rucksack, Lia fiddled with the lock on the door for a few minutes, wishing she had the creds for some real gear. Like that little key that could open or reprogram any lock, melt it when needed, or lock it against further tampering. Or that untraceable credit siphoner, or maybe some of those high tech wrist launchers that could do everything and open a can of soup. Or Rik’s shield, even. Come to think of it, he probably had all kinds of stuff like that. Making a mental note to snoop around later, Lia shed her threadbare clothes and showered for the first time in… well you know it’s been a while when you can’t remember the last time.
It was a little…weird. Being out in the open on a ship. Most of the time she went undiscovered, which was preferable, in her opinion. Less questions, less opportunity for trouble, less risk. Staying anonymous was the only way she’d managed to keep going since Coruscant, and in her experience, nine times out of ten, people were rotten and untrustworthy. One check of the Wanted list and it was over for her, they turned into bounty hunters no matter how kind they’d pretended to be, and she’d have to put a bolt between their eyes. Same story, every time. Except with Krayton, and Liam Blood. For whatever reason, they’d elected not to be problems.
When the water finally ran clean and the soap had done its job, Lia wrung out her hair and toweled off, ignoring the blurred image of herself in the fogged up mirror. Years ago, she’d have spent hours in front of it, painting the latest styles across her eyelids and hiding every imperfection. Now, all mirrors did was remind her how little sleep she got. Not that she cared much about her appearance these days. As long as she was comfortable and non-exciting. Blending in was a big thing. A quick rummage through the drawer under the bunk provided her with a few lacy bras of various sizes (she hastily dropped those back in), one sad, lost sock, a thin gold and partially broken body chain harness (definitely don’t even wanna know), a pair of dark green skinny jeans that would have been perfect had she been about seven inches taller, and… “..what the hell?” Lia lifted a bundle of black leather and slinky red from the bottom and spread them out on the floor. There was a little crop leather jacket that looked like it had been loved, a good start. Some leather leggings that fell a little too low on her hips for her liking. A dark red halter top with a v-neck so low Lia was pretty sure it was lingerie. A pair of finger-less red leather gloves, now THOSE she liked. And a thin body fashion harness. Everything smelled faintly of spearmint and cheap perfume and smuggler sweat.
Lia stared at the ensemble in open horror, but there wasn't much choice. It was this, or a towel for four days. So she tugged on the gloves and pants, figured out a way to tighten the body harness over the ‘shirt’ so she didn't have to worry about flashing the kitchen when she bent over, zipped the jacket all the way up to her neck, stuffed her feet back into her boots, and sat down on her bunk as she fiddled with her weapons belt. Did she need her weapons to clean the galley? Probably not, but if she was gonna be Cinderella, she was gonna do it like a badass. Besides, you wouldn't believe how big the roaches can get on space food…
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 12:04:31 GMT -8
“Deal.” Lia set her jaw and shoved the knife back in its sheath, perhaps a little harsher than necessary. “Maid service for passage. Let’s seal it proper.”
She punched him in the face.
For a skinny blond, she packed a fair bit of force. As she suspected, her fist went right through his shield, smashing into the left side of his face. It probably didn’t do much damage, given her angle and messy setup, but it was satisfying all the same. Sure, he’d given her back her knife and let her stay on-board, but if he thought he was gonna get anywhere near her pants, well, better to send a clear message. Hopefully a bloody nose and a sore jaw was clear enough. Yeah. That'll knock his confidence back a few. “Don't call me sweetie. I'm not sweet. You can call me Lia. What do I call you? Presumptuous asshole is a little long for everyday use.”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 11:06:02 GMT -8
It's a good idea. I'll give it a try. Most of the people I know who are interested in things like writing and Star Wars (which would be, like...4) are much too busy for things like JvS, either with their writing careers or with general life. I can't see them investing in something like this. What would really be a good way to recruit would be to go to other RP websites and ask there, but, on 99% of those, advertising or trying to recruit others to other RP sites is against the rules, even in PM, and you would be reported instantly (trust me, seen it). So. Other ways/suggestions for new blood? Instagram or Tumblr or Twitter or DeviantArt (DevArt would be a great place to find new blood, actually). If you have lots of followers or post the right #hashtags, you could give JvS some exposure pretty easily. The biggest problem with that? You have NO idea who picks that up. We could get a sudden influx of trolls or Edward Cullen lookalikes or people just looking to tear down a community (also seen this, when a site has decided to go recruiting). But it might be worth a shot.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 25, 2015 0:15:28 GMT -8
I should've stabbed him while I had the chance, she thought viciously as she ground her teeth at the situation. She turned back around to face him, green gaze full of acid, and ran scenarios through her mind. He had her knife. Her blaster was useless. He was too big to take down with her meager hand to hand skills. Locker doors seemed to work. Too bad she was fresh out of those.
"Okay, tough guy, fine," she snapped, stuffing her fists in her jacket pockets. "I'm not afraid of work, and you obviously aren't giving up. Payment? I don't cook, I don't entertain, I have no money, and there is no way in kriffin' hell I'm screwing you."
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 24, 2015 23:08:59 GMT -8
…Well, that’s annoying. Snippy, confident, and prepared. Her irritated expression dropped for a split second in surprise as the bolt disappeared, but it wasn't gone for long. Lia was half tempted to squeeze off another shot, just to see how strong his anti blaster shield was. He’d said it himself, he was the only other person on this boat, and after a few weeks ‘nd run-ins with Krayton Jansk, she knew her way around the pilots chair. She didn't need this guy… Her trigger finger twitched a little. But it occurred to her at the last minute that while she could fly this thing, if he had set a course anywhere even remotely civilized, she couldn't land it without showing her face or being asked a million questions she didn't want to answer.
So…yeah. Still needed him. Unfortunately.
“You mean the conversation about me paying you for your crappy food?” Lia holstered her blaster and moved towards him with purpose, pulling her knife from her belt. “No. New conversation.” The blond halted in front of him, face intense, feet planted fearlessly, knife hanging at her side just in case. “You’re gonna give me passage to wherever the hell you’re going, and you’re gonna wave the fee because not only do I have less than zero credits, from the looks of your nose, that shield is only good at stopping blaster bolts, and since you don’t have a brig or anywhere to lock me up that I can’t get out of, you don’t want me knifing you in the middle of the night. Sound about right?”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 24, 2015 22:32:23 GMT -8
She had the blaster raised and aimed square at his chest before the words were fully out of his mouth. Lia pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Why? He was snippy and confident. She didn't like that.
And he HAD suggested she use it. ...Sort of.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 24, 2015 22:09:53 GMT -8
“Like that would stop me.” Blaster out, Lia stepped out from behind one of three crates that wouldn't provide any kind of decent cover in a fight, because let’s face it, the guy had a point. Four days was a long time to play cat-and-mouse, and she was already running out of places to hide. That, and she was way pissed off her locker had been compromised and was hoping there’d be an opportunity to deck him and squash all his other orb thingys. She'd been so careful with this trip. So kriffing careful. There was no way he'd seen her board.
She stayed where she was next to the crate, green eyes narrowed and deadly, expression cold, limbs tensed for action. Her long hair fell in a sort of messy warrior collection of braids and greasy, stringy strands over one shoulder, and her crop top, cargo pants, jacket and boots were so worn and threadbare you could see skin where you shouldn't. The small leather messenger bag slung across her body had been jammed and squashed into so many hiding spots it was permanently creased in weird spots. Soot and dust shadowed her face. The only pristine clean, maintained thing about Lia was her DL-44.
The fugitive stared daggers at him in silence. “Your nerfburger was underdone, but damn, those fries were good,” she finally said, hoping he was hungry. “How did you find me?”
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Lia Corusa
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 24, 2015 17:13:55 GMT -8
“Wrong locker, pal,” Lia breathed, peering at his back through one of the slots in the door. Was he even armed? Didn't look like it. Good. It would make this easier. Opportunity was knocking. If she could just disable him for a moment so she could find a better spot, maybe… But no, he knew she was on board now. And judging by his tracker orbs, the guy had gear. She’d found a few very hard-to-get-at spots on the map deep in the cargo hold she could successfully squeeze into for a few days and avoid detection, but, there was the matter of food and ‘freshers and, y’know, a nice supply of air to breathe. Usually she picked the massive ships big enough to sneak around undetected with hundreds of crew so the extra food was never missed, but there wasn't much choice this time and she’d needed off Tatooine fast as possible. Now, though… now her hasty decision was costing her.
…Whatever. She was not in the mood for a meet-and-greet, definitely not in the mood to ‘pay’ for his crappy food, and it was time to make that very clear. Maybe if she was enough of a pain in his ass, he’d just leave her alone.
Lifting the lunch tray, she banged on the wall a few times to get his attention focused on the right locker. It worked. He turned, moved towards her compartment, fingers reaching for the door…which burst loudly open and hit him smack in the face, knocking him backwards. Lia threw the lunch tray towards him and ran for it.
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Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Jan 24, 2015 16:01:52 GMT -8
The door to one of the space suit storage compartments opened invitingly for the passing orb.
It bobbed towards the small compartment, sensors running as it floated inside. There was no way it hadn't picked up on the form it had been scanning for even before the door had opened, so who knows why it ventured into the locker, but it did, and if it weren't an inanimate ball of tech and gears incapable of emotion, it would have immediately regretting doing so as a lunch tray came down on top of the orb with all the force Lia Corusa could manage in such a tight spot. The orb hit the floor with a crack, half floating half rolling a few inches into one of the space suits hanging against the bulkhead, where it was quickly introduced to the business end of Lia's heavily modified DL-44.
Wasting no time, the blond stashed the lunch tray and snatched up the smoking remains. A quick peek outside to check it was clear, and she sent the dead orb rolling swiftly away from the lockers, slammed the locker door shut again, checked the charge on her blaster, and even though she knew it would do no good now, pulled the two suits back in front of her for cover, hunkered down in the corner, and ran through a map of the vessel on her datapad. The screen was cracked, the pictures flickered and you could feel the old tech inside heaving its dying breath as it scrambled to keep up with her commands, but it had held up this long. “Come on, come on,” she hissed, flipping through the schematics. There was no doubt it had scanned her. She needed a new hiding spot, and pronto. Maybe there was a spot in the cargo area? Yeah, if she could get to it without running into another floating ball…
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