Desmond Heart
Member
You're not ready for me... or my plans.
Posts: 11 
Affiliation: Jedi Order
|
Post by Desmond Heart on May 2, 2013 20:10:52 GMT -8
Desmond smirks silently at Adi as he slides his fingers through his hair, the color of his hair swiftly changes back to it's normal black. With a slight tug of his beard, the small joints holding it to his face give way, letting it fall from his clean shaven hair as Desmond hits a small button on his wrist, the colors of his eyes changing back to their normal brown iris color. Smiling at Master Son'ter, Desmond bows his head slightly.
"The one and only Master Son'tir, at your service. I beg your pardon, it is best to practice talents such as these on an... unhostile crowd. Apologies at the broach. I am Mr. Heart."
Knocking on the counter twice, the second bartender emerges from the side room he had been staying in, resuming his duties as Desmond lets down the towel he had been using and moves around to their side of the bar, proffering a hand to Adi.
"It has been some time my friend, too long indeed."
|
|
|
|
Post by Jedi Knight Mahir on May 3, 2013 8:34:07 GMT -8
So the man had been here all along, nicely done sir. Still it might help their awareness if all the masters weren't half drunk with ale and just shy of wasted with grief and sorrow over the recent past, to boot. Shihab shrugs, that was the main reason he didn't drink anything stronger than a steep tea, it dulled his senses too much. While he had been just as fooled as the masters, Shihab put a large chunk of his own failure to notice up to lack of training and general experience. He made a note to himself to pay attention to the establishment's staff next time, and their usual shifts if possible, another thing to keep track of, another thing monitor, another thing to add to his growing list of responsibilities. Shihab, downed his mug of shig and signaled for a refill from the bartender, the real one this time... he hopes. Noticing that Mr. Heart is taking his time with the pleasantries, Shihab holds off asking the questions that Adi will probably be asking momentarily anyway, and waits for Adi to take the lead in this conversation again.
|
|
Adi
Crew of the Wayward Son
Posts: 1,108
Affiliation: Crew of the Wayward Son
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Adi on May 3, 2013 11:58:10 GMT -8
Johun took a large drink of the Corellian Ale, downing about 1/3 of it. He swallowed the flavorful decadence with a audible, "Ahhh"...Well, Master, Son'tir. I have been to Ryloth in the past. Masters Frantz, Roma, Shin, and myself, apprentice to Master Shin at the time, helped the natives retake Ryloth from invaders. I lost Master Shin there. I grew as a Jedi there, and know the planet all too well... Johon takes another drink, smaller this time, more civilized. His mind flashing with some memories of Ryloth... Of Master Shin's death...
"Well, then, Johun....I believe you are the one I am sending to Ryloth initially. Take Knight 'Eerie' with you, and see what has crawled up Alkor's craw -this- time. "
Adieumus waited for the word 'Knight' to sink in. Shihab was a fantastic student...a fast learner...and had saved Adi's life at least three times during his stint as Adi's padawan. On Yavin, he had performed brilliantly...and Matango had decided the Stenax was ready. There was no big ceremony, nor was a big announcement necessary. His actions spoke for themselves. Reaching down to his hip, Adi removed the black hilt of one of his orange-bladed, quick-trigger lightsabers, and tossed it to Shihab with a smile...and not another word was spoken.
Turning back to the group at large, Adi was finding his brain was quickly clearing itself of the fog that had so-recently clouded it
"We need to get to Coruscant as well...the Council will want a report, and with Yavin blockaded at the moment, we can't very well give one there. I want to run a couple things by them, and give my debriefing report from the ground battle. Master Sont'ir, I'd appreciate it if you would accompany me. We can meet up on Ryloth once that business is complete...Now...Desmond...."
Adieumus nodded slowly to his old friend. Indeed, it -had- been some time since Mr Heart had the chance to visit Adi. The man was the best in the business as far as information gathering, and infiltration. It was unknown, however, if he had any information about the Mandalorians, or the developing situation on Ryloth. Information was going to be key. Besides, Syla Ulfsdottir and Joshua Kierra-Solo had sent a warning...quite literally minutes before the Mandos hit and disabled Yavin station...and had gone off the grid since then. They had to be found. Syla was going to be a key player in helping the Watchmen assist in breaking the siege on the Jedi stronghold.
"It is good to see you, Desmond..It -has- been a long time. I wish it could be concerning less-dire circumstances, though. Initially, I was going to have you run a fly-by of Yavin, to try and get numbers of ships and the like in orbit...but there is a more pressing issue. Two of our Jedi have fallen out of communication, Joshua Kierra-Solo, and Syla Ulfsdottir. If it weren't for them, we would have had absolutely no warning whatsoever that the Mandalorians were coming to hit Yavin like they did. Because of them, we were able to hold long enough to get most of the Yavinites clear. We need to find them. Last known position was somewhere near Dressel. We lost comms with them when Yavin Station went down. Things didn't sound pleasant on their end either...but if I know them, they are still alive out there somewhere.
I need you to find them. Is that a possibility?"
It had taken a little while, but thanks to some very good motivation from his team, Adieumus was finding that he was able to think far more clearly, and plan accordingly...based on what they knew. He was beginning to formulate a plan, one that might get the bucketheads to pull some muscle off the blockade over Yavin...giving an opportunity for the Republic to finally mount a counter-attack. It wouldn't take much....the Republic fleets were known to be fantastic...but it would take pulling some of the floating fortress of firepower away from the besieged moon to give them a chance to bring that naval power to bear.
This situation was going to require more 'out-of-the-box' thinking than ever before...Matango just hoped he was up for the challenge.
|
|
Will Sontir
The Jedi Order
Posts: 632
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Yellow
|
Post by Will Sontir on May 3, 2013 21:49:34 GMT -8
Will cheers to the new knight. Wiggles his wrist in the general direction of Shihab in a mock blessing of sorts. "As the ranking member of the Order here; I know pronounce you" looks at Adi "ugly, and you" back to the gargoyle "a knight." A cheers to him, and a big gulp of his glass. Adi goes on quick barrage and something about Coruscant is said, and something clicks in Will's head.
Will slams the rest of the ale in his glass; jumps up and claps Adi on the shoulder in a guiding fashion. "OO, that reminds me; I have to steal your Worshipfulness. You and I have a date to make; we have a trip to the 'Old Folks Home.' Say goodbye to your friends now, Matango-- it's time for dinner." Will takes a guiding step away from the crowd with Adi, and stubbles over his own boots before regaining composure. And then whispers into Adi's ear. "We should probably take your transport."
|
|
|
|
Post by Jedi Knight Mahir on May 4, 2013 11:39:46 GMT -8
I give Adi a sharp look, when he tells Johun to take "knight 'Eerie'" with him to Ryloth, last I checked I was still just a padawan learner, but when he tossed me his orange bladed Lightsaber, I knew he wasn't just pulling my leg. I grinned broadly as Master Sontir did the "honors" in a rather fitting manner, and then dragged Master Matango off towards the door. Shaking my head, in mild disbelief that I had been so suddenly promoted to knighthood, I turned to Johun and introduce myself to him.
I'd be the one called Knight Eerie, though my name is Shihab Mahir, feel free to use either as you please it makes no difference to me. I'm ready to leave when you are sir and I have my own transportation.
|
|
Desmond Heart
Member
You're not ready for me... or my plans.
Posts: 11
Affiliation: Jedi Order
|
Post by Desmond Heart on May 4, 2013 13:44:58 GMT -8
Stroking his now bare chin thoughtfully, Desmond catches himself and smiles softly at the false front of thought he puts out towards the Jedi at the request.
"I don't have any boots on the ground in that sector currently, but I'll see what I can do for you. Anything else you need while you have my attention?"
|
|
Adi
Crew of the Wayward Son
Posts: 1,108
Affiliation: Crew of the Wayward Son
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Adi on May 4, 2013 14:19:34 GMT -8
Matango smiled, and shook his head.
"No...but there needs to be boots on the ground there...preferably yours. I don't trust any lackeys or hired help to get this done like you could yourself. Besides, it'll get you a lot more work in the long run. Intelligence and such never go amiss with the Jedi Watch.
Thank you, Desmond."
He hadn't even had time to finish the last swallow of his wine, when Master Sont'ir called him 'ugly', and started to drag him away....saying something about the 'Old Folks Home'....Adi assumed that meant the Jedi Temple there, so it wasn't such a bad thing in the long run. Nodding to those in attendance, Adi bowed to them.
"Be safe out there, Gentlemen. I can't afford to lose any of you. Watch each other's backs.
May the Force be with us all."
Turning back to the wobbly Jedi Master, Adi helped steady him, only to find he himself was a bit wobbly too. Tripping over a chair that wasn't quite put back properly, Adi fell into the Master, his full 205 lb frame being tossed. Crashing to the ground *either alone, or possibly with WIll as well...erm* Adi quickly pulls himself to a kneeling position.
"I say we have a Designated Pilot brought in for this, Sir. Neither of us should be flying right now." Pressing a few buttons on his comlink, slowly, Adi sent a message to Central to send out a speeder with a pilot. Luckily enough, and sort of like magic, there was already one there, waiting for Adi. Apparently, word had gotten out that the Arkanian was tying one on at the Cantina, and Icey had sent it there, just in case....
...Such a sweet gal.
"Our chariot awaits, Master Sont'ir." Slowly, methodically, Matango pulled himself back to his feet, and stumbled his way to the door and out...flopping into the backseat of the speeder. When Master Sont'ir boarded, they would be whisked away to the Nystao Public Spaceport.
|
|
Johun Starfield
Member
Posts: 357
Affiliation: Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Johun Starfield on May 4, 2013 16:35:27 GMT -8
I give Adi a sharp look, when he tells Johun to take "knight 'Eerie'" with him to Ryloth, last I checked I was still just a padawan learner, but when he tossed me his orange bladed Lightsaber, I knew he wasn't just pulling my leg. I grinned broadly as Master Sontir did the "honors" in a rather fitting manner, and then dragged Master Matango off towards the door. Shaking my head, in mild disbelief that I had been so suddenly promoted to knighthood, I turned to Johun and introduce myself to him.I'd be the one called Knight Eerie, though my name is Shihab Mahir, feel free to use either as you please it makes no difference to me. I'm ready to leave when you are sir and I have my own transportation. Knight Johun Starfield. I too have my own transportation and am ready to leave now. Johun motioned to the door.Shall we? |
|
Will Sontir
The Jedi Order
Posts: 632
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Yellow
|
Post by Will Sontir on May 4, 2013 18:58:59 GMT -8
As Adi stubbles himself, the inertia of the similarly size Arkanian drives the jedi master to the ground. Years of combat military experience, even in the current state of inebriation, put him in an instinctual tuck-and-roll; placing him in a crouch position a body length in front of Adi. He looks back towards Adi. "The Force damn it, Matango. This is why we can't have nice things. Let's get out of here." Will rises and grabs Adi by the arm and the both stumble into the hovertaxi on their way to the spaceport. . .
|
|
|
|
Post by Jedi Knight Mahir on May 6, 2013 9:19:37 GMT -8
Indeed we shall.
I finish the fresh mug of shig in two drafts and put the empty mug and a cred chip back on the bar. Then I turn and walk towards the door, grinning at the two master's show of making a proper bee-line for the door ahead of us. Once on the streets, turn to Johun.
Shall I meet you at the space port or at Ryloth? I'll be using my own wings rather than cramming myself into a speeder from here.
I stretch my wings out, as I speak and receive Johun's reply, then turn and launch myself into the air, beating my leathery wings swiftly to gain altitude quickly. Being careful to avoid the speeder lanes, I make my way back towards the space port.
|
|
Johun Starfield
Member
Posts: 357
Affiliation: Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Johun Starfield on May 6, 2013 9:57:06 GMT -8
Johun followed behind Eerie. Makinig sure to be out of the way for his wingspan.
On Ryloth woul be fine. Assuming whatever the problem is doesn't prevent us from landing.
Johun commed "Arnie" to bring the Patronus over from the hangar. Once it had arrived. Johun seated himself into the cockpit and jettisoned into orbit.
|
|
Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104 
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Jemima Sacharo on Sept 30, 2014 8:11:36 GMT -8
It was really all she could do to scrape by each day out here, on Honoghr. Ever since the ill-fated Corusca Flight 71, which was waylaid by a band of roving murderers, Jemima had been blissfully unaware of how close she came to death, when her preservation pod jettitisoned her while unconscious into the closest planet, which had been Juvex, oddly enough. She'd awakened in time before anyone got to the pod, and collected all her belongings and slipped into the city, where, with what little resources she had, managed to procure a flight to Honoghr, the only planet she could reach that she deemed marginally suitable and safe for herself.
Low on funds and virtually all other options, she plied her trade with the Red Dawn Medical Center, where she managed to get a position as a low level research assistant. It paid her just enough to get by each day and keep her nose above waters, so to speak, but not nearly enough to begin making any sort of savings, and unfortunately, her superior really had it in for her for some reason. Being alone, with no friends to speak of, Jemima felt overwhelmed and severely underappreciated. Feeling unable to find a solution for herself, and unable to get out of her current position into something that paid a little better, she felt depressed enough to try drowning her sorrows, with what little money she had for lunch-money. Since they served gruel for free if one couldn't afford something better-tasting at the cafeteria, Jemima saved her money just so she could hit this place.
Which she did, literally.
She did not watch where she was going, and slipped on a bubbling puddle, bumped her face right into the door, and squeaked in surprise and pain.
Maybe that's how this place got it's name.
Stumbling into the bar, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her first-timer expression. Attempting to recover from her most embarrassing entrance, she did her best to walk briskly to the bartender, gently placed her palm on the bar, and said in a clear Coruscanti accent, "A pint of blue milk, please."
The bar went dramatically silent. Jemima's eyes darted to the right for a moment at the sudden silence, and then sported a friendly, toothy grin, looking all cute and innocent.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2014 11:30:47 GMT -8
It takes a moment for the uncharacteristic silence of the cantina to register for the tiny, wiry-framed, pale skinned Nagai that emerges unsteadily from the female restroom into the cantina proper; her attention momentarily on what her intently focused concentration suggests is the nearly overwhelming task of marshaling the coordination required for buckling the belt keeping her loose-fitting black cargo pants where they belong. The pink tip of her tongue just visible at the left corner of her lips, the Nagai blinks and looks up from the, if her expression is any indication, herculean effort of buckling her belt when the silence finally registers, appearing for a brief instant more alert and oriented than she had upon exiting the loo, rising slightly from her slack, slump-shouldered posture as her right hand leaves her left to secure her belt while it snakes beneath the scuffed, well weathered black Neo-leather flight jacket she wears over a black sleeveless t-shirt towards the handle of Tehk'la blade sheathed at her back. Spotting the probable source of the silence, revealed to be a grinning woman at the bar in front of whom the bartender is setting what appears to be a pint of, of all things, blue milk, the Nagai's gaze, which had been so clear and assessing only an instant before, returns to the slightly unfocused state it had been in, her posture relaxing and, her right hand aborting its move for the Tehk'la blade to rejoin her left's quest to buckle her belt, resumes her tipsily weaving progress towards the bar as the usual clinking of glasses and low murmur of multiple conversations occurring in several languages surges forth to fill the silence once more.
"Finally," the Nagai mutters to herself in a triumphant tone as she at last succeeds in buckling her belt just as she arrives at the bar, weaving unsteadily as she comes to a halt next to the woman that had ordered what Connie can see is, yes, actually blue milk. Leaning against the bar to keep from swaying, Connie raises her right hand to get the barkeep's attention and orders, "Bottle'a Menkookoo . . . Menkooroo, yeah, Men . . . wha' I said," she waves a hand, "the second time I mean, not the firs' one, 'cause that firs' one doesn' . . ." turnng around and addressing the empty air behind her as though it had interrupted her, Connie says in an irritated voice, "Well, there isn' any such thing as Menkookoo," then, waving a hand and shaking her head, returns her attention to the bartender and says, "Ac'ually, it's Menkooro, not Menkooroo." Nodding sagely and tapping the side of her head, Connie says, "I m'ember now. Def'nly Menkooro."
The Nagai, who smells of whiskey and cigarette smoke courtesy of the time she has spent in the cantina with an undertone of grease, oil, and sweat courtesy of the time she had spent repairing the sublight engine of a light freighter before venturing forth for the cantina, runs a hand through her chin length black hair to push it out of her eyes as she watches the bartender turn to get her order, and then, apropos of nothing in particular, observes helpfully, "Ya know, there's a, like, really cool lil' streetside cafe where you can get . . ." Looking over her shoulder towards the empty air once more, Connie huffs, "I'm not tryin'a bother her. The cafe jus' seems more her . . ." returning her attention to the woman with the blue milk after dismissing the air with a wave of her hand, Connie resumes as though uninterrupted, "You can get, like, milk tha's blue, and sa'miches and stuff too there. At the cafe. The one I said. You migh' like it there more, 'cause you . . ." Reaching back without looking and slapping at the air as though it had been trying to get her attention, Connie says, "He thinks I'm botherin' ya. Am I botherin' ya? I'm not tryin'a . . ." The return of the bartender with the bottle of red-colored liquid diverts Connie's attention and she licks her lips as she roots in the side pockets of her jacket for the credits to pay for what she has come for.
After finding the required credits and handing them over, Connie, after apparently consulting the empty air behind her, asks the bartender for two glasses and a bucket of ice. Trying to find a way to arrange the bottle, glasses and bucket that will enable her to carry everything, Connie, upon successfully arriving at such an arrangement, tells the woman with the blue milk, "Sorry if I bugged ya. I jus' . . ." Lurching away from the bar as though pulled from it even though there is no one near her to do the pulling, Connie grumbles, "Ok, Ok, I'm comin'," and then waves to the woman with the blue milk with a whispered and cheery, "Bye!" before shuffling away towards a nearby booth and, after dropping into the side affording her a view of the doors leading into the cantina from the street, slumps down comfortably in her seat and pours two drinks, one of which she slides across the table towards the empty seat facing hers.
|
|
Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 1, 2014 5:56:37 GMT -8
She watched as the grumpy bartender surprisingly managed to find blue milk for her, and poured it out, allowing some liquid to slosh out. He didn't seem very happy to tend to this particular customer. Blue milk, at a cantina. Either she's an utter cheapskate, or she's very broke. Either way, not much business, so why be nice? Money can buy you special treatment after all."Bottle'a Menkookoo . . . Menkooroo, yeah, Men . . . wha' I said," she waves a hand, "the second time I mean, not the firs' one, 'cause that firs' one doesn' . . ." turnng around and addressing the empty air behind her as though it had interrupted her, Connie says in an irritated voice, "Well, there isn' any such thing as Menkookoo," then, waving a hand and shaking her head, returns her attention to the bartender and says, "Ac'ually, it's Menkooro, not Menkooroo." Nodding sagely and tapping the side of her head, Connie says, "I m'ember now. Def'nly Menkooro." "Uh..." she'd watched the Nagai woman, who already appeared quite inebriated, trying to order a drink called Menkooro, that was, if she was able to get it right at all. And who was she talking to? Jemima's eyes darted over to where the Nagai seemed to be looking and talking for a moment, and wondered if it was someone invisible. And inaudible.The Nagai, who smells of whiskey and cigarette smoke courtesy of the time she has spent in the cantina with an undertone of grease, oil, and sweat courtesy of the time she had spent repairing the sublight engine of a light freighter before venturing forth for the cantina, runs a hand through her chin length black hair to push it out of her eyes as she watches the bartender turn to get her order, and then, apropos of nothing in particular, observes helpfully, "Ya know, there's a, like, really cool lil' streetside cafe where you can get . . ." Looking over her shoulder towards the empty air once more, Connie huffs, "I'm not tryin'a bother her. The cafe jus' seems more her . . ." returning her attention to the woman with the blue milk after dismissing the air with a wave of her hand, Connie resumes as though uninterrupted, "You can get, like, milk tha's blue, and sa'miches and stuff too there. At the cafe. The one I said. You migh' like it there more, 'cause you . . ." Reaching back without looking and slapping at the air as though it had been trying to get her attention, Connie says, "He thinks I'm botherin' ya. Am I botherin' ya? I'm not tryin'a . . ." The return of the bartender with the bottle of red-colored liquid diverts Connie's attention and she licks her lips as she roots in the side pockets of her jacket for the credits to pay for what she has come for. "Uh..." She couldn't quite get a response out, because the woman was rather distracted by something that apparently only she could see.After finding the required credits and handing them over, Connie, after apparently consulting the empty air behind her, asks the bartender for two glasses and a bucket of ice. Trying to find a way to arrange the bottle, glasses and bucket that will enable her to carry everything, Connie, upon successfully arriving at such an arrangement, tells the woman with the blue milk, "Sorry if I bugged ya. I jus' . . ." Lurching away from the bar as though pulled from it even though there is no one near her to do the pulling, Connie grumbles, "Ok, Ok, I'm comin'," and then waves to the woman with the blue milk with a whispered and cheery, "Bye!" before shuffling away towards a nearby booth and, after dropping into the side affording her a view of the doors leading into the cantina from the street, slumps down comfortably in her seat and pours two drinks, one of which she slides across the table towards the empty seat facing hers. "......" really, what was there to say? This woman was clearly sane. She completely had her head on straight, and all the screws were in place.
Are you kidding me?!?
On the other hand, there was the distinct possibility that maybe there was something invisible and inaudible to all but the woman herself. So instead of looking like she wanted to run for her life and heed the woman's advice to visit the café rather than stay here at the bar to potentially meet other strange folk, Jemima smiled and nodded her head when the Nagai bid her farewell cheerily. She raised her pint of blue milk in response and then took a sip of the drink. Blue milk was quite delectable in taste, and while more common in places like Tatooine, the drink was a readily available beverage almost anywhere in the galaxy wherever there was a cantina.
Her mind was already mulling over her abrupt meeting with the Nagai. Or rather, the Nagai's meeting with her. And since the bartender didn't seem too inclined to talk to her, nor did most of those in her immediate vicinity seem to give her more than a second glance after her initial appearance and stunning request for blue milk, she found herself considering going over to talk to the woman some more. But was that really a good idea?
Because do I have any friends at all who'd give me some advise on what to do? She asked herself mentally. Oh, but for that, you'd need to actually have friends, right? And nobody likes a person who has multiple degrees and doctorates before you even reached eighteen. Well...she looked over at the Nagai, who'd gone and poured a second glass for...nobody in particular. Idly, Jemima wondered if the woman was an escaped mental patient from the RDMC. She's rather too well-garbed though, and on the other hand, as she had rationalized earlier, the woman may be seeing real people who weren't visible to anyone else.
The galaxy was full of wonders, it's what got her here in the first place. She wondered whether anyone back on Coruscant missed her, or assumed she was one of the dead? No matter.
Another thought occured to her that this woman could be what Jemima herself might turn into one day if she didn't make friends sometime soon. Create some imaginary friends? Or perhaps be visited by beings only she could see? She shuddered and picked up her beverage, then made her way over to the Nagai until she stood behind the empty chair, and cleared her throat softly. Well, she came this far, might as well try. She smiled politely and said, "Excuse me, but may I ask you something?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2014 11:42:45 GMT -8
Connie drains a third of her drink in a single swallow, setting the glass back down in front of her and, with her thin fingered hands wrapped around the sides of the glass, stares down into it as though the two translucent chunks of ice floating in the red liquor might enable her to scry into the future or afford a glimpse of where what she seeks might be found. When it becomes apparent that this particular glass of Menkooro offers no visions, portentous or otherwise, Connie drains it and refills it from the bottle to give the next one a try, knowing that even if the Menkooro has no answers that drinking enough of it will at least bring some temporary oblivion. Sighing after taking a sip of glass number two, Connie sets it down and reaches into the right breast pocket of her black Neo-leather flight jacket, pulling out a crinkled packet of cigarettes and a lighter. After extracting a cigarette and tapping it on the table, Connie tucks it into the left corner of her lips and lights it, taking a deep drag and holding it before leaning her head back and slowly exhaling a stream of bluish smoke towards the ceiling. Settling more comfortably in the cushioned seat of the booth, Connie looks towards the door when it opens, a flicker of hopeful expectation in her eyes that subsides when she sees the Quarren and Aqualish duo that enter the cantina.
"Stupid," Connie chastises herself under her breath, shaking her head and tapping the tip of her cigarette on the edge of an ashtray before taking a drag from it. You would think, Connie reminds herself, that the wanting what you can't have would subside after realizing, or finally admitting the hard truth that you'll never have it, but every time the friggin' door opens she still looks, still feels the tiny ember of hope left glowing deep inside of her burn a little hotter. Maybe she should have chosen somewhere other than Honoghr, with all the memories here, to hole up and . . . whatever it is she is doing here. Or maybe, Connie tells herself as she drains glass number two decisively, she is thinking too much and drinking too little; she didn't really choose Honoghr so much as found herself here when her increasingly quixotic quest depleted the funds she had to conduct it.
Connie's bout with introspection is mercifully interrupted when she hears the sound of someone clearing her throat softly. Well, she came this far, might as well try. She smiled politely and said, "Excuse me, but may I ask you something?"
|
|
Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 2, 2014 3:04:29 GMT -8
She'd been lost in thought over something, Jemima had observed. Even in the short span of time really that the two of them had been apart since the Nagai's impromptu appearance at the bar, ordering a strange drink, drunken advice to her, and followed by her equally strange departure towards. Jemima wasn't sure if she was an empathic person or sensitive, or anything really, since she seldom had anyone to talk to. So when the Nagai smiled at her and made a comment about them both surviving after she'd asked if she could ask something of the woman, Jemima smiled back, and moved over to sit, when she ordered an invisible person to scoot over and make space for her. Worriedly, Jemima checked the empty seat to see if there was an unusual depression to indicate someone sitting there, but to no avail that she could make out. So, instead she nodded at the woman and sat daintily near where she estimated the invisible person was adjacent to, and then said, "It's quite all right, I'm just glad to be accommodated at all."
She wondered how to approach all this, when she quickly realized, "Oh, excuse my manners. I'm Jemima Sacharo, from Coruscant."
She added after a moment, "And you are?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2014 18:03:36 GMT -8
Connie smiles cheerily and waves her hand in an ah-it's-nothing kind of way when the blue milk lady says that she's just happy to be accommodated; venturing a guess that the woman is probably relatively new to Honoghr, and, having moved from planet to planet often enough herself, knows how refreshing it can be to run across a friendly face amidst a sea of strangers. After Jemima has introduced herself, Connie rests her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and extends her hand as she says, "Nice'a mee'cha Jemima Sacharo from Coruscant," and then reciprocates, never so drunk that she cannot remember which alias she is currently using, introducing herself chipperly, "Anzhelina Volkov," just as naturally as she would if providing her actual name. Pointing to an empty spot on the seat around the booth, she introduces the first of the companions that, while they are as real to her as Jemima is, exist solely in her mind, "The scowly dude wi' no manners 's Grisha, an," her finger shifts to indicate another vacant spot, "the pro'col droid 's C3-J9," Connie reaches up and tugs at one of the three tiny silver hoops in her left ear, explaining, "Bu' we jus' call her Janine, 'cause, ya know, the J an' the 9," she concludes with a nod.
Retrieving her cigarette, Connie slouches down in her seat, telling Jemima cheerfully with a knowing grin, "'m guessin' tha' askin' our names wasn'," she takes a drag from her cigarette and tilts her head back to blow a series of blueish smoke rings at the ceiling between words as she continues, "the only question ya came over ta ask though, right? So," she taps the ash from the tip of her cigarette into the ashtray as she lifts her free hand and waggles her fingers invitingly, "Go on an' ask anythin' ya wanna ask."
|
|
Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 2, 2014 23:03:24 GMT -8
Okay, she thought, she's definitely off her rocker, or maybe it's just the drinks...but whatever it was, Jemima decided against blatantly stating it so. Unfortunately, having no friends or people who treated her with respect meant she had little to no idea about social etiquette, so, "Quite right, I did have something I wanted to ask besides that."
She took a big gulp of her drink, and then looked at where Grisha was supposedly sitting, before turning back to Anzhelina, "But I can't actually see them. Why can't I see them?"
What told her that it wasn't possible was the mention of Janine, the protocol droid. A living being that's invisible, intangible, and inaudible to all but a select being, she could believe, but a droid that was similar? Not likely. Anzhelina Volkov was seeing things, and somehow even able to feel them, because she was thinking of the time Anzhelina was yanked by the arm by an unseen force. On one hand, it was possible she could just lurch her body in the belief it was being pulled, or on the other, there could still just be more to the story than she realized, and only Anzhelina's response to Jemima's query would begin to shed light on the matter.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 3, 2014 18:07:34 GMT -8
Constanza has been living with the hallucinations that accompany her mental illness for years, and therefore, naturally, it is neither the first, nor is it likely to be the last time that someone has questioned or challenged them. While Jemima's question is posed in a less derisive manner than most instances in Constanz's past, it is nonetheless just as strange for her as it would be for a sane person to have someone question the existence of beings that are absolutely real to them. Connie's cheerful demeanor dampens ever so slightly as, after Jemima has stated she cannot see Forseti or K8 and asked why that might be, she tilts her head to the side with an expression that is equal parts bewildered and wary; not that she questions, for so much as an instant, whether her companions are there, as much she is wondering whether Jemima is attempting to make a joke at her expense or, ironically enough, whether Jemima is mentally ill.
After a slight expectant pause, which has the distinct air of waiting for a punchline, Connie, who has found that it is usually best not to react to such situations by challenging the statements of those who claim they cannot see her companions, smiles with a shrug and says neutrally, "I, uh, I'm not really sure why ya wouldn' be able ta see 'em." Taking a drag from her cigarette and looking to the side to exhale a thin stream of smoke, Connie decides it might be best to change the subject and so, looking back towards Jemima, rests her cigarette in the ashtray and absently twists the silver rings on the fourth and fifth fingers of her left hand with the fingers of her right as she asks, "So, um, like, how long've ya been here on Honoghr?"
|
|
Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 4, 2014 0:49:57 GMT -8
Jemima had barely noticed the pause, because while waiting for a response, she had turned back to look intently at the empty seats, trying to will people into existence for herself. After all, there's a drink right there, in addition to the one that Anzhelina herself was drinking. Granted, there were some people who were insane and unattended for so long, that they had literally lived lifetimes with hallucinations. Though that had to be one sad existence. One that Jemima was afraid she was inevitably heading towards. Perhaps that's why she was so drawn to this strange Nagai.
That's when the weirdness really began.
When Anzhelina spoke, Jemima turned to look at the Nagai, and completely missed the second drink lifting by itself into the air and tipping slightly towards an angle, as if someone were drinking, though it really just poured down over the seat. While all that was happening, Anzhelina changed the subject, asking about how long Jemima had been on Honoghr. Although it was obvious the Nagai was somewhat uncomfortable with Jemima's initial line of questioning, and thus turning the subject around to Jemima, the girl beamed brightly. No one really took much interest in her before, certainly not enough to even bother asking how long she'd been here, which she thought was "Too long for my liking, really. I’ve been trying to make some savings from my temporary job at the RDMC as an assistant researcher in Biochemistry, but it’s just barely enough to help me get by from day-to-day."
|
|
