A'den'ade
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Keldabe
Sept 13, 2014 19:05:40 GMT -8
Post by A'den'ade on Sept 13, 2014 19:05:40 GMT -8
I am called A'den'ade. or A'den I am unsure of my clan.
A'den put on a tough face. He was speaking to a Mando'a Warrior, He could tell by his armor.
My parents died long ago. I barely remember them at all. I am sure they would say that they were proud. Doing whatever I must to survive.
A'den took another bite of the fruit, thoroughly enjoying it.
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Cayne
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Affiliation: Clan Vhett
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Keldabe
Oct 11, 2014 21:59:53 GMT -8
Post by Cayne on Oct 11, 2014 21:59:53 GMT -8
Cruising sedately over the landscape of Mandalore The Kondo-Class shuttle approached Keldabe from the South-East, banking slightly to follow the Kelita river up to the granite hill upon which the fort sat. It was still best to think of Keldabe as a fort because that's exactly what it was, and thousands of years had not changed its nature. As the river branched off to circle its way around the edge of the city the shuttle turned again, drifting higher in order to clear the buildings that stood at a greater elevation due to the rise in landscape. Slowing further the ship turned before coming to a near stop, repulsors keeping in aloft in the stiff breeze, then sunk down towards a landing bay. The wings folded up and S-shaped landing gear lowered to make contact with the floor, barely a jolt indicated that their job was down.
The bay itself was unremarkable, one of dozens to suit this class of starship, and the shuttle settled in with a hiss, coolant expelling and hull twitching and twanging in the dusty air. For a moment nothing happened, as if all this bird wanted to do was settle down and rest for a while, ignorant of the pilot who had guided it here. More time past and, when anyone watching was beginning to think that perhaps this ship had been slaved to fly here, the landing ramp hissed open smoothly, the ship lowering its doors without a tremor as only a new ship vessel could.
The armoured form that stood highlight in the dim luminance from the docking corridor was, like the docking bay itself, distinctly unremarkable for this planet. Armoured plates on shoulder, chest and shin, heavy gauntlets encasing the hands, sturdy boots and the distinctive T-visored helmet common to the Mandalorians. The figure seemed to be consulting something which it quickly put away before heading down the ramp at an even pace.
Naase am'ir...
Was the first thought that had come to Maraak as he had cruised over the city, easily piloting his stolen shuttle to the assigned landing bay. He hadn't expected to find anything different and he wasn't surprised to find Keldabe exactly as he had left it before the war. This place had endured for millennia and would continue to doe so fore another despite what went on in the galaxy around it. No, it was them that changed not this place. The corruption they exposed themselves to by mixing with aruettise would forever tarnish them though it often wasn't apparent until they returned to Mandayaim... perhaps would never be truly known until they found their way to the Manda itself. His thoughts continued as he made his way down a busy street, the tightly packed buildings flanking him on either side, scanning the crowds through his visor with a sneer on his face as he spied the occasional armoured form.
"Nayc sol vemen verd olar..."
He muttered the words under his breath though no sound would escape his helm without him wanting to. He saw apathy everywhere these days though here, most of all, it was not his place to judge. He got curious looks back too as he passed, his armours colour rather uncommon as it lacked the usual devotions to family or clan. It was entirely a dull, non-reflective, grey. Almost dark enough to be seen as black, surely so at night. He carried no of the usual sigils or runes that would dedicate him to a clan or affiliation to a group. Neither did he have any other colour displayed. Most vode would have some form of acknowledgement; black for justice, gold for vengeance, and so on and so forth. Having none was often associated with being without clan, a position of some deficit in Mandalorian culture. It was for this reason he got cold and curious stares. Stares that he ignored like a boss.
He turned onto a street known as Chortav Meshurkaane and found it packed with vendors and buyers all making a horrendous racket as they went about their business. He frowned heavily, not realising it was market day, and was immediately stuck in the sluggish crowd of deal-seekers. Muttering a rancid oath he finally managed to free himself of the bustle and ducked down an alleyway that would take him off the main strip. A few paces in he turned left and hurried along to find himself in the square. Like the street behind it was a busy place but he had to brave the throng in order to get to his destination.
Across the square the Oyu'baat sat as it always had done, the three-story building dominating the smaller buildings around it. It was said that the 'Baat had originally just been a small tapcaff itself and had absorbed other buildings around it until it had evolved into the primary cantina, and unofficial town hall, of the entire planet. Who knew? Such origins were lost in history, the place old before the Great Sith War.
His destination in sight Maraak made his way across the square, often shoving people out of his way, and approached the main door. He hesitated a moment then removed his helm, letting his dark hair spill down over his shoulders. Sharp features half hidden behind a neatly trimmed beard assessed the window to the tap room for a moment before he reached up his free hand and entered...
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Spectre
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Affiliation: The Moon Goddess/ Dha Werda Verda
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Keldabe
Oct 28, 2014 11:20:58 GMT -8
Post by Spectre on Oct 28, 2014 11:20:58 GMT -8
*Spectre gets to the abandoned warehouse section of the city. A sector that time may have forgotten, or rather a less involved sector since a grand scale crusade and a few explosives changed. This was the place, a reminder of the more recent past while a time honored tradition waits to take place. The arena was set, there would be no out of bounds. Two fighters, two soldiers taking on one another for the right to lead their people. Two Mandalorians who loved their people. This wouldn't be a fight for the faint of heart, but it wasn't an execution either. Honor was everything to the Mando'ade. This would be no different. While normally this type of fight would be decided in a battle circle, Spectre went against the normal tradition. Any gladiator can get lucky in the battle circle. A real soldier fought on any terrain, under any type of weather. While honoring tradition was a way of life, it also became a form of stagnation. This is what Spectre had to convince all people. Not just Ashrah. Besides, Ashrah began to let the ends justify the means. And from what little Spectre understood about the man's past, he knew it wasn't Ashrah's fault. He was turned into a weapon against the Force, and then stripped of his true purpose. The purpose he had now was that of a monster. A weapon. He needed a new purpose. And this is the real reason he challenged Ashrah. To save him and their people they loved so much from annihilation. Ultimately, to save Ashrah from himself. No this wouldn't not be a fight for the faint of heart. Spectre was going to challenge Ashrah with the very thing he hated coming from something he loved. His people. Spectre pops his neck again and focuses. He begins to dance the Dha Werda Verda to honor his Taung Ancestors.*
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Ashrah
The Mandalorian Assembly
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Keldabe
Nov 7, 2014 12:05:49 GMT -8
Post by Ashrah on Nov 7, 2014 12:05:49 GMT -8
Well that was not unexpected....He grinned, looking around as he stood. He nodded to those in attendance and made his way to the area indicated by Spectre. He liked the man, which was rare. Ashrah rarely liked anyone. He could name one. Corr he tolerated. Duke he liked. He shook the thoughts from his head as he stepped into the space, looking across at the other man. He spoke, his growly voice echoing off the walls.
"Name your terms. You are the challenger."
He had his usual kit on him. Chain, blade and shotgun. He waited for the response of the other man, staring intently
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Spectre
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Keldabe
Nov 15, 2014 7:01:36 GMT -8
Post by Spectre on Nov 15, 2014 7:01:36 GMT -8
*Ashrah arrives just as Spectre finishes honoring his Taung ancestors. He focuses internally, as he prays to his Moon Goddess. "Goddess, give me strength to carry through this fight and aid my resolve to save my people. Let my honor win this fight with furious and focused determination". Now that he is unshakable in his goal to save all mando'ade, he listens to Ashrah's growly voice. His statement is terse and to the point. Spectre makes a quick weapons and ammo check, checking the breach of his rippers then chambering rounds, then looks at Ashrah.*
"Only what you carry on you. No explosives, no timeouts, and no out of bounds. Honorable surrender accepted."
*Spectre then activates his shield on his right wrist, in a flash the purplish pink hue activates. It's large and crackles with energy. In his left he holds his ripper, cocking the hammer back with his thumb and removing the safety.*
"Agreed?"
*The question floats in the air as time itself stops. A stiff breeze kicks up and then dies, as the hum can be heard from Spectre's shield as he waits for Ashrah to accept. Knowing Ashrah isn't the verbal type, Spectre lifts his right arm up in front of his body to anticipate Ashrah's real answer.*
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Ashrah
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Keldabe
Nov 24, 2014 13:00:27 GMT -8
Post by Ashrah on Nov 24, 2014 13:00:27 GMT -8
Guns. Always with the guns. He himself only used the shot gun on his back, and as Specter activates the shield on his wrist, Ashrah pulls the shotgun off his back in a blindingly fast move, the barrel pointing at the ripper so as not to blow the mans hand off. He pulled the trigger and the shotgun spoke in the language of violence, looking to shoot the ripper out of Spectres hand. In the same motion he let fly the gun to his left, letting it tumble onto the ferracrete, his legs pumping, launching him forward, his HUD keeping an eye on the ripper as he moved. He wanted this hand to hand. Or blade to blade. He had no intention of killing the other man. That would be pointless. But he wasn't against beating the ever loving Kad out of Spectre. In his left hand was the handle of the chain wrapped around his left forearm, the 3 inch hooked blade glinting at the end of the 2 foot appendage, for it was an extension of his arm. He was prepared to fall flat on his face if he needed to. The Ripper was a dangerous weapon......
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Spectre
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Keldabe
Nov 28, 2014 11:19:05 GMT -8
Post by Spectre on Nov 28, 2014 11:19:05 GMT -8
*There it was. Just as expected. "Haar'chak this man fast!", Spectre thinks. Spectre leans in by taking a slight step back with his left foot and raising the shield, half expecting buck or scatter shot of some sort. When it's a slug and aimed at his Ripper hand it ricochets off his shield. With Ashrah closing in fast, Spectre has no choice but to lay down some suppressing fire with his hand just outside the shield. He could somewhat feel the heat of the sheild, but it lessened the longer he held it there. His aim was at Ashrah's chest. He wanted to knock him back and at the very least, knock the wind out of him to slow his advance. Even though it always came down to guns, this was a battle. Not just a fight. A fight is something either one of them could have won. Although to be honest, it did favor Ashrah to take this on as a hand to hand fight. He was a skilled fighter. The best of the best. Spectre was too, he knew Aikido and Teras Kasi, as well as Northern Praying Mantis. But Spectre knew better than to let Ashrah in close. The Bruising on his chest, was a reminder of that. If Spectre had seen it or felt it, that is. Right now, he was focused on the moment and letting the Goddess guide him. Succumbing to pain and fear was not an option.*
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Deleted
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Keldabe
Apr 16, 2015 8:40:21 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2015 8:40:21 GMT -8
The figure appeared to be just another of the many homeless that lived in the multitude of alleys & back streets of Keldabe. Appearances, however, can be deceiving. The figure waited. Many of the hated armour clad figures wandered through the alley, but still he waited. He could be patient, that was one thing drilled into him over his nearly three centuries of life so far. The prey had to pass close, no more than a couple of paces. The alley had to be otherwise empty, it would ruin the terror he was planning on spreading to be witnessed this early.
To his amusement, the small bowl in front of him had collected a nice collection of various coins. But at last his chance came. It was well into the night. Most of the true homeless had moved from this alley, which was always a little breezy, to some of the other nearby ones that offered more shelter. The armoured figure was weaving slightly as he walked, obviously on his way home from one of the many pubs or taverns. Best of all the figure all but stepped on Resi's bowl.
Quick as a viper, Resi thrust his fist into the back of the figure's knee, where the armour was weakest. The figure uttered a curse & stumbled slightly.
-Resi
Watch where you are stepping, Drunk!
Looking down & noticing for the first time that he had nearly stepped on someone, the drunk mumbled something unintelligible & continued on his way. He made it nearly a dozen more steps before he fell from his feet. By that time, Resi had already collected his bowl & was heading toward the 'safety' of the more common night-time homeless haunts. The thin durasteel needle carefully returned to its hiding place. The needle was coated in a special poison that Resi had learned how to make in his travels. True, it was extremely distinctive if found soon enough, but after a few hours it would break down into nearly untraceable components. Best of all, it served as an immediate numbing agent, unless the target was watching, they often would realize the attack had even broken skin. The only real drawback of the poison was that it killed painlessly. Perhaps he could try mixing it with some other, more painful poisons.
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Deleted
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Keldabe
Apr 30, 2015 9:05:35 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2015 9:05:35 GMT -8
Vee mumbled a farewell to Don as she doggedly stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. She decided to splurge on a cab instead of utilizing public transport. She really needed to learn how to sleep while underway. Ever since her promotion to haul bigger and pricier cargo, she constantly worried the entire trip. Too much a perfectionist, and too afraid to lose her job. One slip up, and she knew she'd be fired. Then no one would hire her, and this was the only way she knew how to make it here on planet. There was no way they could live off her uncle's mechanic paycheck, not in Keldabe. Living here was expensive, but it was probably the best place to find work. Gods forbid they have to move into the country and work a farm to survive. She belonged in the sky, not the dirt. When things became tight, Vee seriously considered going back to Basilisk, but she did love flying, and there was something always happening in the capital.
The drive home took forever, or so it seemed. The accident on 40 didn't help things. She finally hauled out of the cab, travel bag slung over one shoulder. She quickly entered their tiny, homey, apartment, throwing her bag on a dining chair. Her aunt popped out of the kitchen. Ack, Vee, you should have told us you were coming back! We could have picked you up.
Vee opened her mouth to speak, but yawned instead. Drika laughed. That's alright, go to bed...you look half-dead.
Vee snorted tired amusement, but didn't waste a second getting into her almost closet-sized room. She fell into bed, dirty, greasy clothes and all. Within seconds she was sound asleep.
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Deleted
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Keldabe
Apr 30, 2015 9:38:05 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2015 9:38:05 GMT -8
When Vee woke up, it was to the sound of her comlink. With a groan and eyes still closed, she palmed around trying to find it. It had fallen beside her when she fell into bed. H'rel.
We have another load that needs to go out. You have 12 hours before you need to leave.
I thought you said I had a week.
That was before the company moved up when they needed the parts.
I really hate you right now, Jeev.
Part of the job honey. Report to docking bay zero-two-one-nine, same port. The ship will already be loaded.
Before Vee could say anything, the line dropped. With a sigh, eyes still closed, she told her comlink to call Don.
V'hett. His voice was rough and tired. A girlish giggle could be heard in the background.
Jeeze Don...we haven't even been back that long.
Get on with it Vee, you're interrupting.
Just got a nice little call from Jeev. We're out again in 12 hours. It's the Corusant load.
Don hissed. Vee yawned. My thoughts exactly. Corusant was a real pain in the ass when it came to deliveries and pickups. Given the fact it's a city-planet, it was obvious why.
Fine. I'll be there.
Vee cut the com, slowly fluttering her eyelids open. It felt like there was sand and dirt in her eyes, and her throat was a little sore. Her body ached slightly, but the lack-of-sleep induced headache was gone. She stretched slowly before sitting up for a couple seconds to get her bearings. She turned on the shower in the 'fresher before stripping out of her dirty clothes and letting her hair out of it's greasy pony-tail.
The hot water felt soooo good. She stayed for a full, indulgent 30 minutes before stepping out, clean and fresh. She quickly dressed and braided her wet hair before heading out into the apartment. It was probably the middle of the night. Her in laws room was silent. They were probably asleep. She noticed Drika had already repacked her bag with clean clothes and fresh supplies. Thanks the gods for her.
Vee raided the kitchen, finding an already-made plate of food her former mother-in-law left her behind. Vee didn't realize how hungry she was until she started. That with a glass of water helped ease her throat and dust the cobwebs out of her brain. After she cleaned up the kitchen, she holstered her slugs and left to go back into the city. There were bars everywhere, and one of them would have her name on it.
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A'den'ade
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Keldabe
Apr 30, 2015 18:41:27 GMT -8
Post by A'den'ade on Apr 30, 2015 18:41:27 GMT -8
A'den watched the marketplace. He was looking for any merchants or patrons not paying attention. He hadn't eaten in two days. He was going to eat today.
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Deleted
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Keldabe
May 2, 2015 17:52:27 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on May 2, 2015 17:52:27 GMT -8
Vee ended up bouncing between a few seedy bars that served liquor at decent prices. She was passed out in bed before the sun came up. She woke up to a loud voice.
Hey, Red, get up!
Vee cringed before realizing it was Don's voice. Her head pounded. Shut up. It came out as a hiss as she clutched her head, screwing her eyes shut even tighter. The sun that was streaming through her window didn't help either.
Don chuckled. Have a hang over, do we? Figures. Why don't you do what the rest of us do and get laid? I promise the aftermath is a lot less painful than this.
Who let you in?
Drika, who else?
Vee groaned. She thinks we're a thing.
Of course she does, I'm handsome and charming. A real catch.
Vee growled. Go away.
Sorry, can't. Get up. Don ripped the blanket off her. For your information, Jeev commed me because he couldn't get ahold of you. Says the shipment is a bit pricer than the client originally contracted and we'll need some muscle.
What the hell are we hauling?
Beats me. But it means we have more time to live it up until he finds someone. In the meantime, I promised Drika to bring you with me to a little family get together.
When Vee buried her head deeper under the pillow to block Don's voice and the sunlight, he nudged her boot that was falling over the bottom of the bed. I have meds and water...c'mon Red, you'll feel worse if you just lay in bed all day.
Well, that was true, Vee supposed. She slowly, very slowly, sat up, wincing the whole time. Don shook his head, handing her what he promised. She drowned the meds and water. And why would I want to be surrounded by a bunch of V'hetts? You're bad enough as is.
Cute. Well, one, I have a cousin coming into town that I think you'll like...maybe you could give him a spin. If anyone needs to get laid, it's you.
Gee, thanks. But no thanks.
Don acted as if he didn't hear her. And two, I'm planning on pitching the muscle job to him...he's done this thing before, and I'd trust him more than anyone Jeev can get.
Vee glared at him as best she could through her headache. Job, maybe...getting laid, not interested. I told you, no blind dates, especially not with any of your family!
C'mon Vee, do it for Drika. You can't live like this indefinitely. Just think of it as a warm-up for the real thing.
You want me to go on a date with this cousin of yours, then potentially spend the next week or two with him in close quarters? I'll pass.
Don shurgged. Suit yourself. But it couldn't hurt you to be cordial. Now c'mon, it'd be better if you spoke with him about the job. He's coming all the way from Concord Dawn.
Wait a minute...did you already tell him?
Tell him what? The job?
No di'kut, about getting set up with me.
Kinda. Don't be such a prude, I didn't tell him you were a sure thing.
Don!
I told him about the potential job too, so why don't you focus on that? Jeez, take the stick out of your ass.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 8:32:58 GMT -8
You know this is unprofessional, right? I'm your boss. She swirled her drink in it's glass as she stood next to Don, scanning the herds of Clan Vhett. You shouldn't be setting me up on dates, much less ones with your family.
This is how it's done, Red...welcome to civilization. He took a swallow of his whiskey, smirking at her over the glass.
Vee shot him a sharp look. I did just fine before - She didn't finish her sentence. She wanted to say she did just fine before she met him, but that wasn't true. Todon died before they married, Taung had been stupid luck, and he was dead too. Ex was a drug addict and dar'manda somewhere in the gods-forsaken desert. And she was either working, sleeping, drinking or spending limited amounts of time with her dead fiance's parents who were the last living kin she could even remotely lay claim to. Taung's family was dead and Ex had none that she knew of.
Don must have sensed the futility of her unfinished statement, because he set his glass down with a sigh. Look, if you land a V'hett, you'll always have family. We're like weeds. Besides, there are worst names you could have...like Skirata, for example. He chuckled to himself, a pun Vee didn't get.
I don't want to "land" anyone, Don...I just...What did she want? At that moment, she really didn't know. To be important maybe, or meaningful. Piloting cargo for various companies didn't seem very important and, aside from Don, she was really the only person she felt comfortable relying on. I don't know, maybe you're right. I just don't want to rush things.
How about just have some fun for once? It ain't a crime you know. He tipped his head back, finishing his drink. Now if you excuse me, I see a fine booty with my name on it...how much you wanna bet I can steal her away from Becker before the night is over?
Vee simply rolled her eyes and snorted in derision, but Don had already made off. Once he left, she noticed a lot of stares were being shot her way. Maybe people thought she and Don were an item, and now with him gone...
Vee wasn't an arrogant, attention-whore of a person, she was quite modest in fact, but she wasn't stupid. She knew despite her scarring and rough, make-up free exterior, she was fairly easy on the eyes, and her red-gold hair, along with her height, made her stand out. And she hated it.
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Cayne
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Keldabe
May 3, 2015 13:34:02 GMT -8
Post by Cayne on May 3, 2015 13:34:02 GMT -8
The trip from Concord Dawn had been uneventful making it all the more annoying for its lack of anything remotely resembling entertainment. Hitching a ride with bureaucratic paper pushers had seemed like a quick and easy way to hop across the sector, cheap too, but on reflexion Sven thought he would have rather walked. Any suggestion of a conversation had quickly found its way onto financial or administrative nonsense, with the undertones of how the martial aspects of the culture was a constant drain on the system that made him grit his teeth to refrain from squashing the stupid desk jockeys heads. There were four of them, two males and a female, all of them with spectacles, squints and upper-class sneers.
It was hate at first sight with all of them.
He had ignored their barbed comments and insincere wishes of well being as he strode purposefully out of the hangar bay and into the streets of Keldabe, satchel over his left shoulder, blaster over his right. His sandy-coloured hair stirred against his head in the faint breeze, freed from the confines of his helm which was mag-locked to his belt.
At slightly over six feet and of a lean build he was garbed in beskar a shade of blue so dark it was almost black. The shoulder guards, shins, gauntlets and trim of helmet and chest were a vivid violet true to his name and his sharp features seemed permanently set in a frown of mistrust, pale blue eyes scanning his surroundings constantly. Don had specified a place to meet and Sven made his way unerringly through the streets, long-legged stride carrying him swiftly to his destination...
The gathering had seemingly been well begun by the time he rounded a corner and came within sight of his goal, two men swaying in the street outside as they bellowed out a bawdy drinking song. Recognising Garett and Poe from their scruffy attire and unkempt hair Sven knew he was in the right place. He also knew this would be a long night from the quality of family members in attendance.
"Hibirar te miite, ba'vodu Poe..."
His words were amused as he listened to them mash up the words of the song in their drunken slur, slowing down to stop in front of them. He set his backpack on the floor and leaned his rifle on the door jam before pulling free a pipe from a compartment on his right gauntlet.
"Gar kaab emuurir aruetiise."
He saw their faces darken at his mockery but ignored them, packing the elegant pipe from a pouch he had produced. With deft movements he finished loading and lit the bowl, puffing away for a moment before exhaling a huge cloud. With their song now aborted the two Vhett uncles, or cousins (Sven could never remember who the hell they were related to) flanked him either side. Offering welcome and scorn in equal measures...
He endured their verbal assault with good grace though he hoped to Kad that Don would save him from this social nightmare. Then again it was Don that would seek to inflict this gathering AND some spacer trash chick on him in the first place...
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Deleted
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Keldabe
May 3, 2015 17:22:17 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on May 3, 2015 17:22:17 GMT -8
It took Don all the space of 20 minutes to pry the woman out of his uncle's cousin's cousin (his third cousin? fourth? who cared) hands. Kareen (at least that's what he thought her name was) worked over at the Oyu'baat, doing...something, hotel administration? Eh, what did it matter. She was pretty, with a slammin' body to boot, and talked enough that a few "mmhmm"s and "uh-huh"s worked just fine. It was always nice to find a woman that could hold the conversation all by herself. Pretty soon, Don forgot all about his boss' surliness, focusing entirely on how many drinks he could get into the woman and trying to fend off competition at the same time.
He didn't give a second thought to the red-headed pilot until he caught sight of Sven out of the corner of his eye, smack in the middle of good ol' drunk Garret and Poe not but a few yards away. While Kareen was babbling on about some overhaul to the tap cafe's menu, Don made a gesturing motion with a grin as he turned in Sven's direction so the fourth (or was it third?) cousin could see him.
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Deleted
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Keldabe
May 4, 2015 18:12:16 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on May 4, 2015 18:12:16 GMT -8
In the meantime, Vee found a seat and entertained herself by drinking copious amounts of alcohol and staring blatantly at all the antics the Vhett clan had on display. Several men, both sober and otherwise, stopped by to try to talk to her. She got the furthest with a fellow pilot who worked for a mining company on Dressel. He was attractive in a way that had more to do with his personality than appearance. His banter was light and easy, so much so that Vee didn't feel like she was even being hit on. She found herself leaning in to listen to his stories. He also asked her about herself, instead of just going on and on, bragging about accomplishments to try to impress her.
However, when she asked about his family, things took a turn for the worse.
I can't lie to you, not with you staring at me with those big eyes of yours...I'm married. But- he hurried on - I've been away for the better part of the year.
Vee knew well and good that it wasn't frowned upon to have an affair if you'd been apart from your significant other for long periods, so long as you were faithful when together. She had a good buzz going, and what the hell, it wasn't like she was planning on anything serious with anyone tonight. She realized she really did just want to get laid. She hadn't since right after Ex. It'd been a while.
But despite the approval of probably everyone here, and the fact that she was really getting along with the man, she couldn't consol herself into spending any further time with him. All she could think of after that was his wife, sitting at home by herself, waiting for her husband to come home. Gods knew that if she had a husband, she wouldn't want him between someone else's thighs while he was away from her, no matter how much their culture oked it.
Vee shook her head, a few tendrils of stray hair from her high bun swaying around her face You seem like a lot of fun, but...I'm sorry, I can't. I really just can't.
Koel nodded remorsefully. I understand. Couldn't hurt to try, you're a beautiful, interesting woman. Enjoy the rest of your night.
Vee sighed as he walked away, her buzz taking an unpleasant turn with her frustration and disappointment. It was getting dark now, Vee hadn't realized how much time she had spent with Koel. She re-crossed her long, dragon-hide clad legs, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. Now what? A rowdy, drunk duo, singing a drinking song, stumbled past her, making their way to the exit. It looked like they were having a good time...getting plastered seemed like all that was left to do.
She stood, heading toward the bar.Where was this cousin of Don's anyway? She just wanted to get drunk and go home.
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Cayne
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Post by Cayne on May 5, 2015 12:50:31 GMT -8
Extravagantly exaggerating his noticing of Don noticing him was enough to sink home to Garett and Poe that he was taking his leave. Amidst the constant barrage of pointless questions about Concord Dawn and rather lamesauce jibes at his character, Sven secured his pipe before scooping up his satchel and rifle and making his way into the courtyard where the gathering was taking place. Exchanging a few pleasantries with family members he barely knew he made his way towards his cousin in a meandering, zigzagging course.
His mind drifted as he moved, dwelling on the turn of events that had led him here. With the collapse of the Mandalorian assault on Yavin and the subsequent fallout his unit had been disbanded leaving him adrift in a galaxy that no longer seemed to trust Mandalorian services. Work had been scarce and he had spent the last few months grafting at a friends farm on Concord Dawn, something which he was woefully unsuited to for a variety of reasons. It wasn't that he was shy of hard work but that kind of work held little appeal to him, little to hold his interest. Consequently he had become rather morose in attitude, bordering very close to depression.
Such was his demeanor as he dropped his bag unceremoniously at his feet before sliding heavily into a chair opposite Don.
"I hope this journey hasn't been a waste of my time, ner tat..."
He switched from Mando'a to basic, most of the family situated on Mandayaim preferring to converse in the aruettise dialect, voice a low growl that just oozed menace.
"The trip was vexing in the extreme."
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Deleted
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Keldabe
May 5, 2015 15:43:09 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on May 5, 2015 15:43:09 GMT -8
Don had a huge grin on his face as Sven strode up. He briefly turned to Kareen (that was her name, right?) Honey, won't you be a doll go get us some more ale? My cousin here is tired and needs some cheering up. I'm sure an ale and your pretty face would do just the trick. Kareen preened at his words before flitting off to the bar.
Don turned back around just as Sven made his approach. Sven, my cousin! Now now, don't be sour...I can assure you the trip was worth the trouble. That is, if I'm right to assume you still are looking for work. Don motioned where Vee stood at the bar with his head. And potential female company to boot, if you play your cards right. His grin grew a little wider. She can tell you more about the job too. Kareen bounced back in with two ales in her hand. She handed one to Don and, with a flirtatious smile, reached forward to hand one to Sven. Don stopped her. Actually, my sweet, keep that one for yourself...Sven was just about to make his way to the bar, weren't you Sven? Don's mischevious eyes peered over his mug as he took a nice draw of ale. He suddenly hummed, coming up for air. That reminds me...He reached into a pocket, producing a key card. He tossed it to Sven. Room 116, lodge next door. I'd let you stay at my place, but that's just in case you get lucky. He laughed.
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Cayne
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Keldabe
May 5, 2015 16:19:57 GMT -8
Post by Cayne on May 5, 2015 16:19:57 GMT -8
He scowled at Dons antics though his head did turn so he could track the sway of the girls hips as she made her way towards the bar. It had been a long time for him after all. At Dons gesture he moved his gaze up and to the left, settling on the redhead who seemed to be looking around with barely concealed disdain for her surroundings. Tall and lithe she certainly didn't lack for looks yet there was something about her demeanor that was slightly unsettling to Sven. Dangerous even. Not that that had ever stopped him in the past, he thought ruefully.
His next words caused Svens frown to deepen as the girl returned with ale. He didn't like to mix business with social endeavors and this smelled suspiciously of an attempted collaboration of the two. He levelled a look at his cousin that spoke of mistrust but the accusation never came.
"Fine..." He said, rising abruptly after catching the keycard in his right hand. "I'll play your game."
He gathered up his stuff and turned to go, muttering to himself as he went. At the bar he slid in next to the girl with the red hair, giving her an obvious and rather frank up and down before growling at the bar keep in Mando'a.
"Tihaar bal ba'slanar teh haranov"
His head turned to survey the redhead once more. She was certainly attractive, extremely so now that he was up close. There was something hard about her that made him lean towards handsome rather than pretty, with strong features and brooding eyes. He didn't smile, keeping his own features impassive as he nodded once as if to confirm his assessment was done.
"So I hear there's a job that needs doing..."
The barkeep returned with a glass and the bottle of Tihaar, leaving the latter as he'd been instructed. Sven paid him and poured the clear liquid into his glass before holding it out towards Reds...
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Deleted
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Keldabe
May 5, 2015 17:52:56 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on May 5, 2015 17:52:56 GMT -8
Vee had already taken a few shots by the time an armor-clad mando approached. Even though he sat right next to her, despite the other open seats, she didn't turn to look at him as he sat his belongings beside him. She did noticed him openly assessing her out of the corner of her eye, a rather lengthy up-and-down number. He was the first mando that had the guts to come right up to her and so blatantly show interest in such an authoritative manner. It was both flattering, annoying and intriguing.
As he rambled off something in Mando'a, she felt goosebumps run up her arms at the rasp he had to his voice. Still, she didn't give him the satisfaction of turning to him, stubbornly ignoring him to see what he would do next. However, as soon as he mentioned the job and offered her a glass of tihaar in her line of sight, she swiveled her bar stool around to look him square in the eye before doing her own assessment.
She didn't say anything at first, giving him a once over as he had her. His armor was dark, so dark it was hard to tell if it was black with a blue sheen, or just a dark blue. The violet trim was different, and certainly made him stand out from the crowd. It was difficult to tell his built under the armor, but clearly he had broad shoulders...and looked like he was the same height as she, maybe a little taller. Her eyes traveled to his face, observing steely blue eyes, cropped dirty-blonde hair and chiseled features on a face that was currently expressionless.
All in all, he looked like a hard man, a man that knew what he wanted and took what he wished. A man that other men followed. That vibe alone was immediately appealing, but the fact that he was attractive, in a rough sort of way, didn't hurt. She absentmindedly tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she reached for the glass with the other hand, not missing the double-meaning behind his question.
You the cousin Don has been talking about? The one who provides...the muscle? Her face softened a bit as she took a sip of the liquor, her blue-green eyes maintaining eye contact with him over her glass. Maybe Don was right...maybe this cousin was a winner.
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