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Post by Deleted on Oct 4, 2014 9:49:19 GMT -8
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."
Nodding with a sympathetic frown, indicating that she is all too familiar with the financial straits Jemima has described, Connie says, "I feel ya. Subsissy . . . subsissin . . . livin' from, like, paycheck'a paycheck issa pits." Taking a drag from her cigarette and looking up to exhale towards the ceiling, Connie suggests, "Have ya ever thought abou' , like, tryin'a find yourself a roomie or two? It'd cut down on'a rent and stuff so ya could, ya know, save for what ya really wanna do?" As she is leaning forward and stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray, Connie observes, "It, um, sounds like ya don' really wanna be on Honoghr for the long run, yeah?" As she refills the glass in front of the empty seat and then tops her own drink off, Connie looks over at Jemima inquisitively as she smiles and asks, "So, like, if ya could be anywhere inna universe and doin' anything ya wanna'd do, where'd ya be and what'd ya be doin'?" |
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 7, 2014 6:19:14 GMT -8
The girl smiled easily at Anzhelina. Maybe she was just enjoying having someone...anyone...to talk to about anything at this point. So she took in everything the woman said and thought about it all. As for rent cost and roommates, now that wasn't a problem, since she'd since learnt to get comfortable sleeping on benches, or in a closet, on a stack of relatively clean mops with an old throw rug tossed over it.
At the observation that she wanted off the planet, she nodded her head, "Yeah. Didn't really plan to be here all that long."
Jemima shifted in her seat as she thought about the last question, looking upwards - and spotting a small cloud of smoke hanging overhead - and then back at Anzhelina, "Oddly enough, while I do miss home and would like to see my parents again sometime soon, at the same time...I want to go travelling, you know? Explore the stars, meet all kinds of people and learn more about xenobiology and all that sort of thing. Oh, and I don't think I can..."roomie" with anyone. Mostly because no one's ever given me the time of day to even talk, let alone make friends. You're the first person I've really talked to outside of 'Scalpel, laser-cutter, band-aid, dab...', and 'I want tomorrow's report on the Kowakkian Monkey-Lizard finished yesterday.'"
The girl sighed and took a big gulp of her blue milk. She wondered if she could afford another mug after this. "What about you, Anzhelina? Have you lived here for some time? Or are you, like me, looking for the slightest opportunity to get out of here?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2014 18:43:00 GMT -8
Constanza frowns sympathetically as Jemima describes how she hasn’t been able to make any friends at work or elsewhere, reading between the lines that Jemima must be pretty lonely in addition to struggling to make ends meet. Having, for as far back as she can remember, always had, so far as her version of reality is concerned, Forseti and K8 in her life, Connie can only understand just how lonely Jemima, who sounds like she literally has no one in her life at the moment that she is close to, must be in an intellectual sense, but she feels sorry for her all the same and, to try and cheer Jemima up, even though she seems to be pretty cheerful, or at least doing a good impression of being cheerful despite her circumstances, smiles as she says,“Well, ya know us now, an’, who knows, maybe this is,” she hiccoughs, “the beginin’ of a beau’ful frien’ship.”
Shaking her head when Jemima asks whether she has been on Honoghr for a while, causing her chin length black hair to fall into her eyes, Connie explains, “We haven’ been here too long, ac’ually. Maybe,” she reaches up to brush her hair out of her eyes, looking upwards searchingly, “a month or two? I was here before,” Connie continues, waving a hand backward over her shoulder, “but then I b‘came the mechanic for a smu . . . uh, shippin’ crew? An’,” she waves a hand back and forth in front of her, “we travel’d all over the place. But,” Connie sighs, her dark grey eyes clouding over briefly with a hint of melancholy sadness, “I hadda leave a’cause,” she sniffs with a laugh, waving her her hand dismissively and regaining a small measure of her usual buoyancy, “You don’ wanna hear all that. An’,” Connie bobbles her head from side to side, her tone momentarily suggesting that she is admitting something difficult to herself as much as speaking to Jemima, “there’s nothin’ keepin’ us here, not really,” she trails off for a moment, as though considering what she has said and seeing the truth in it, and then shrugs, smiling as she says, “So, yeah, I’d prob’y jump atta chance ta get outta here, go out and travel and alla the other stuff ya said. Well,” she grins, joking, “maybe not the xee . . . xeoboolooga . . . biol’gy stuff ya said. I’ll leave that ta you.”
After taking a drink of her whiskey, Connie, thinking about what Jemima had said about her parents, moves her glass forwards and then traces a finger absently through the ring of moisture it has left on the table as she asks, “So, like, where’s home? How’d ya wind up here ‘stead’a there?”
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 8, 2014 2:40:50 GMT -8
Jemima frowned a little at Anzhelina's slip-up about a shipping crew. She was about to say 'smuggling' crew, she thought, fancy!
Her stomach had done flip flops when Anzhelina of her own accord offered friendship. Not one to hesitate, the girl raised her mug in a toast of sorts and then listened on. Seemed like the Nagai had her share of misery or mishaps, whatever the case may be. And she smiled cheerily at the woman's difficulty in pronouncing "Xenobiology, and my home's Coruscant. Hence my accent. As for how I ended up here...well it's quite a story, so to speak."
She leaned back in her chair and discharged the collective tale: "After I graduated from the academy, I got bored rather quickly with the desk work. I wanted to go out there, meet people, study and discover things. So I didn't hesitate in the least when the offer for a two-year-long galaxy-wide trip with a team of scientists and biologists was made to me. We didn't get far though. We'd made a brief stopover near Juvex and got waylaid by pirates. At least, I'm guessing it's pirates. I was in a sleep-inducing life-pod to help pass the journey time faster and to conserve supplies on board. I woke up, and from what I could guess, I'd been ejected from the ship somehow, and ended up on Juvex. I managed to clear out in time before scavengers got to the pod. I may not have travelled much, but I'd read enough about certain planets to know that they're places to avoid being in if at all possible. I used what little valuables I had to ply a trip off the planet to the closest, most acceptable and marginally safe place to begin the plans to either travel back home, or meet people I can trust and travel with them for as long as they'd have me. Rather odd and reckless planning, I'll admit, but I think it's good. And that's when I ended up here, on Honoghr, and have been since trying to get off planet. This is the first time in a month that I've actually left the RDMC to see anything different beyond the white walls."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 8, 2014 8:22:55 GMT -8
Raising her own glass with a smile to return Jemima's toast, Connie takes a sip and then rests her chin atop the steepled fingers of her hands as she listens to Jemima's tale about how it is she wound up on Honoghr, her deep grey eyes widening when the story gets to the part about being attacked by pirates, and uttering an impressed, "Yikes, that was lucky," when the story gets to the part about Jemima's narrow escape in the pod on Juvex.
"Wow," Connie says, leaning back in her seat when Jemima has finished her tale, frowning as she muses aloud, "It really blows tha' ya don' make 'nough as a," she waves her hand, unable to remember how to pronounce Xenobiologist, "that Zeo word ta get offa this rock, an' that ya are only now jus' gettin' ta get out an' about some." Shaking her head, a sympathetic frown curling the corners of her lips down as she thinks about how frustrating it would be to feel so stuck and trying to think of any other suggestions she might make for making credits, Connie finally sighs, too inebriated at the moment to summon any brilliant ideas, and points to Jemima's mug as she asks, "You wanna 'nother milk?" Motioning for a server droid before Jemima has a chance to answer, Connie orders another blue milk and some spiced Mynock wings, telling Jemima, "You should try some, they're really good," and then, with a slightly concerned expression, asks Jemima, "Is this really the firs' time ya've been away from the RDMC? What, like, have ya been doin' ta, ya know, relax or unwind? Tha's important, ya know? Ya can go," she taps the side of her head, "a lil' wack-a-doo if ya don' have some kinda outlet outside'a work." Brightening a bit, Connie says excitedly, "But, hey, you're, like, out now, so we could do somethin' ya always wanna' do now. I mean," she grins, "I'mma go out onna limb and guess that hangin' aroun' inna bar isn' 'xactly a dream come true for ya?"
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 9, 2014 1:05:32 GMT -8
"Uh...oh...thank you." Jemima was so surprised and touched by Anzhelina's generosity. It was certainly more than she could hope for on a random encounter and making a new friend. Her head constantly played up all her doubts about herself. She was always ostracized or hated for being different, being smarter than almost anyone her own age. The effects on her mentalities were apparent in some ways. She grew attached very easily and quickly when anyone showed her the least amount of friendliness. She wasn't clingy to her parents, but she might become so if anyone else showed kindness and affections. She often got pleased when her senior biologists and mentors gave her praise for her works, and when she tried to be friendly, she was often hurt by their desire to "keep things professional" and avoid growing personal attachments with the girl.
But she never stopped trying to have friends nonetheless. Unfortunately, she couldn't count on even one hand the number of friends she had. Until Anzhelina, and the Nagai's a woman she'd just met, in a bar. And she's...schizophrenic, quite possibly. She'd just noticed that the Nagai had to refill the second glass, which meant something or someone had drunk it, since neither of the women did. "Huh..."
Then she turned back and listened to Anzhelina worriedly asking if this was the first time in over a month or more since Jemima had gone out of the RDMC to relax and unwind, and stifled a smile.
Now how's that for irony?
Here she was, talking to someone who alone could see invisible and inaudible beings that no one else could see, and she was being warned about going "wack-a-doo" if she didn't have an outlet...or friends to talk to. Still, she maintained the same cheery smile that she kept since entering the establishment, and answered to the last query, "No, I suppose hanging around the Bubble And Squeak isn't my most ideal plan. But hey, I got to meet you, that counts for something."
She glanced gratefully at Anzhelina before helping herself to a spiced mynock wing, "Terribly sorry." She said as she barely contained her excitement. Obviously, seeing the same food for months would make her go just a little crazy at the opportunity for something completely different. Spiced mynock wings? At this point, she wouldn't say no to rancor meat even, but the mynock wings might as well be Ambrosia to her the way she looked at it. She bit into the meat, and closed her eyes as she savored the flavours. The look of sheer pleasure on her face spoke volumes. She sipped a little of the blue milk to help wash it down.
Dabbing her lips with a napkin, the girl smiled sheepishly at Anzhelina. "I think I like spiced mynock wings." She formally declared. "As for doing something I've always wanted to do...well, I don't know really. Since coming to Honoghr, I've only been around there. This is my first visit to the cantina, and I don't really know the sights around here, besides my short stop at the spaceport when I first arrived."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 9, 2014 17:52:18 GMT -8
Connie grins cheerfully and lifts her glass in a toast when Jemima says that meeting her counts for something, just as pleased to have made a new friend as the human woman, and waves a hand to let Jemima know she's welcome to as many of the spiced Mynock wings as she likes, explaining, "Have as many as ya want, I, like, can never finish 'em all anyway."
Nibbling on a wing as Jemima explains that she doesn't really know about what there is to do around the city, Connie waves the wing around between bites as she helpfully describes some of the things there are to do, "There's, like, loads'a stuff a'do. Like, there's the Colossus . . . Cola . . . garden thingie, with the fountains an' the statues. An', oh! there's a cool lil' peddler's shop place with these crystal things, an' clothing booty . . . bootaque . . . clothes stores, an' night clubs. Wiping her hands and mouth with a napkin, Connie nods and says, Yeah, all sorts'a stuff'ado. Sliding the plate of wings across to Jemima, Connie suggests, Ya oughta, like, gimme your comm frequency, or I can give ya mine, an' the ness time they letya outta the RCDMPQ place, we can, like, go an' do some stuff an' show ya aroun' the city. It'd be fun. "
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 10, 2014 0:19:43 GMT -8
"Don't mind if I do." Jemima happily helped herself to another wing. It wasn't the healthiest choice if eaten too frequently, but considering that she hadn't had the opportunity to indulge in longer than she can remember, she figured this once was as good a time as any to forego maintaining a healthy diet. Without thought, she pushed the plate over to Grisha so he might have some too. She'd noticed that the cup had been drained earlier, so it occured to her that maybe the invisible man might want some too.
Jemima beamed at Anzhelina's offer to show her around some other time. "I'd like that."
She whipped out her Comlink, a Gnusmas Galaxy model, which was definitely outdated, despite its market availability. "Here's my frequency (Jemima.Sacharo@Imgoingnutssaveme.com). I'm really glad I met you, Anzhelina."
The girl gave the Nagai a smile that spoke measures of relief and gratefulness.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2014 17:14:16 GMT -8
Taking her own comlink from the left breast pocket of her black Neo-leather flight jacket, Connie inputs Jemima's frequency into her contacts list and then, her right hand lifting up to absently massage her temple as a mildly dull, throbbing headache begins to assert itself, brings up her own contact info and then spins the device around and slides it across to Jemima as she says, "There's my freq an' holonet address."
Smiling, still massaging her temple, Connie says chipperly, "I'm, like, totally glad I met'cha too, Jem'," before finishing the rest of the whiskey in her glass and then drumming the fingers of her hands on the table as she looks at the whiskey remaining in the bottle as though debating whether to pour another glass; she is currently at the pleasantly inebriated stage of the game, but knows it will not take much more to tip her over the thin divide between that stage and simply drunk, with the moroseness that accompanies it. Deciding not to sully the unexpected lift in her spirits that meeting Jemima has brought, Connie tilts her head to the side and says, "I think I've had enough whissey for the night. I could use some, like, fresh air. Ya gotta head home, or do ya wanna, I dunno, take a walk or somethin'? We could check out the Coliseum'a Angels maybe? It's kinda cool at night."
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 16, 2014 6:40:57 GMT -8
Jemima frowned a little, watching the already tipsy woman pondering having more liquor, though fortunately, she decided against it. Jemima's main concern was that she didn't really fancy trying to haul a drunk and unconscious Nagai back to her residence, wherever it might be. She wasn't a girl that did any strength-building exercises, and considering that she was smaller sized than even Anzhelina, she was at a severe disadvantage. She smiled at the Nagai's confession that she was equally glad to have met Jemima, and when she suggested going somewhere else, the girl eagerly nodded her head and downed her second mug of blue milk in one gulp. "I'd like to see that if there's time, certainly, if you would like to go there. I don't have to get back to the RDMC too soon just yet."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 17, 2014 20:01:07 GMT -8
Grinning happily, Connie drums her palms on the table and says, "Alright! As she stands, weaving unsteadily for a moment, she says, Jus' lemme know when ya gotta head back an' we'll walk ya there ta make sure ya get there, and then glances at the half empty whiskey bottle for a beat before tucking it beneath her jacket with a wink, saying to no one in particular, No sense in lettin' it go'a waste, right?"
Heading for the exit, her gait just a bit unsteady, Connie leads the way outside, stopping on the sidewalk and, the slight chill in the air sobering her slightly, takes a deep breath and then turns around to get her bearings before, pointing to the east, declaring, "This way," before setting out.
As they walk towards their destination, Connie turns to Jemima and asks curiously, "So, like, what 'xactly does an assissy researcher in biochemicalstry at the RMDC do?"
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Jemima Sacharo
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Oct 18, 2014 12:10:07 GMT -8
"Right!" Jemima nodded to her advice on letting Anzhelina know about when she needs to head back to the RDMC. When asked about what she did at the RDMC, the girl beamed.
"Just the usual, I try to isolate the compounds of beryllium and barium prior to the senior lab tech's entry, and then I have to separate the samples with silicon-oxide extract for the arsenic sulfide project that Dr. Vlox has going. I'm also currently trying to figure out a particularly complex mixture involving selenium and hydroxide, in a..." and on and on she went, until she paused for a breath and said, "...sorry, I think I'm babbling."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2014 22:11:24 GMT -8
Even though Connie only understands a fraction of what Jemima talks about, the woman's obvious enthusiasm for her work makes it easy to listen to, and the Nagai clearly pays attention throughout the explanation of what it is Jemima does, smiling and nodding to encourage her to continue here and there even though it doesn't seem like much persuasion is needed.When Jemima concludes by apologizing, Connie laughs, waving a pale, thin fingered hand and assuring her, "S'alright, really. I mean, she waves the hand over her head with a grin, I'm na' gonna p'tend I'm intellectualamized 'nough ta have unnerstood everything ya said, but it sounds really interesting, and, she grins, turning to face Jemima as they continue to walk, trus' me, if ya get me goin' on mechanical stuff, I'd be able'a give ya a run for your credits in the babblin' department. Facing forward again, Connie returns her hand to the side pocket of her black Neo-leather jacket, the untied laces of her combat boots flopping as she walks, steadier now since the exercise and fresh air continue to sober her up, and asks curiously, Ya must'a, like, went ta school for a long time to learn all'a stuff ta be an assissy researcher, huh? Her youth spent in a mental institution her delusional mind has refashioned as something else entirely, Connie never formally attended a school or university, and so the fact that others have such an opportunity seems alien to her, which makes it interesting to hear about, so she asks, What was it like goin'a university an' all? Having seen her share of holovids about the university experience, Connie can venture a guess that Jemima was not a student of the party animal type and so asks, Were ya, like, a member'a sorority and stuff?" Stopping and pointing to a gate surrounding a well-lit park area ahead, Connie says, "That's the Coliseum there, then, setting out for it, muses aloud rhetorically, I wonder why they call it a Coliseum? I don't picture gardens when I hear Coliseum, do you?" Shrugging, Connie looks both ways before crossing the street and contining for the open gates ahead of them . . .
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Spectre
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Post by Spectre on Jan 3, 2015 13:13:12 GMT -8
*Spectre walks into the cantina and stops in the doorway. The cantina falls silent as they all have the look of "what is a Mandalorian doing on a known Force-user planet" on their faces. They quickly go back to their drinks as they know any Mandalorian worth their salt is ready for a fight. Which is exactly what Spectre is looking for after the feelings sharing back on the ship. Debating was one thing, but pontificating was another. You want justice? You gotta get your hands dirty first. Pure and simple.*
*Spectre walks though the middle, making his way to the bar. He takes his hood off then removes his skull buy'ce, and sets it down on the metallic bar. Spectre takes his left hand and pulls it through his chin length platinum white hair out of his face, his golden amber eyes staring into the barkeep.*
"Ti'haar, landlord. None of that watered down osik you aruetiise try to pass off as the real stuff. Make it a double."
*The barkeep takes out a bottle that says "Reyn's brew", and pours generously. He then sets in front of Spectre with nod, as if to say that's all we drink here "tough guy". Spectre slams it back and it hits him. The noseburn makes his eyes water and slightly takes his breath away.*
"Haar'chak, Ibic cuy Mandokar!"
*He proudly exclaims.*
"I haven't tasted ti'haar like this outside of Kyrimorut."
*He would bother to ask, but he was never the type to look a gift Toydarian in the mouth. He just sits and summons another double and waits for the rest to show up.*
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jan 3, 2015 21:45:57 GMT -8
If you don't think too much about it, the flying isn't a problem. It's when you start to think too much when problems really happen. I was going fine from the hospital until I started to wonder about why no one else is flying around if people are meant to fly. And that's how I'm now looking more like something someone threw with great strength rather than someone flying under her own power. But what power? Oh great...more flailing! I'm losing balance! Oh look, a cantina...no, wait...worry more about how fast that ground is coming up to meet me!
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"
I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadie!
"OWW!"
Okay, I'm not dead...yet.
Face first into the ground. I pull my head out of the small hole I made with my landing...no, crashing. Yup, that hurts. A lot. But I'm pretty sure landing at that speed, normally should kill you. I don't know how I know that, but I just do. That should have been my end, and yet, here I am, getting up unsteadily, and looking around. I just flew, and now I've crashed, and survived.
Wow, I really hope Spectre can tell me more about myself and why I can fly and do all these things. I mean, what else can I do? How dangerous am I to people around me? Why am I worried about how dangerous I can be to people? Do I know? Wait...of course I know...sort of. Ugh! Really need to find my father and get information before I do something I'll regret. So I walk in to this cantina. I've got a feeling he's in here somewhere, and I don't even know how I know that.
And I quickly learn a seventeen-year old who looks like a twelve-year old shouldn't just waltz into a cantina.
But hey, here's hoping there's an alien race out there where adults look like children.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2015 23:43:22 GMT -8
Story continued from here. . .
Other than a muttered Haar'chak *, when Weston reveals that he has also not heard from any of their teammates from the Organization since the attack on the Nexus aside from whoever he refers to as Kay, Neassa is silent as they follow the tiny Nagai through the city and towards the cantina. There is more she would like to ask, but her questions and note comparing with Weston will need to wait for a more opportune moment when they can speak more openly.
Once they have entered the cantina, Neassa puts a hand on Weston's shoulder after she spots Spectre sitting at the bar to pull him aside for a moment before they join the other members of the crew she has found herself with so that she can explain what she is doing on Honoghr and find out whether or not Weston might be able to join them. Look, Neassa begins her explanation, I'm in the middle of something here I need to see through before we see if we can't reestablish contact with our old friends. Since she doesn't know whether Weston is in the middle of something himself, Neassa doesn't explain the situation fully just yet, only clarifying for now, This crew is a little short handed at the moment, and if you don't have something going yourself, we could use you. Smiling unseen beneath her buy'ce, only her tone conveying that she is only joking when referring to his earlier comment about actively avoiding dangerous situations, Neassa says, I know it goes against your policy about certain situations, so before you agree you should know that we're about to embark on an op that involves that whole mortal peril thing you'd like to avoid if possible. More seriously, Neassa adds, Most of these people are new to me. I don't know their capabilities like I know yours, she concludes before falling silent to give Weston time to consider what she is asking of him, the implication that she feels she can trust him under fire not something she feels she needs to spell out.
* Damn it
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Spectre
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Post by Spectre on Jan 4, 2015 22:20:14 GMT -8
If you don't think too much about it, the flying isn't a problem. It's when you start to think too much when problems really happen. I was going fine from the hospital until I started to wonder about why no one else is flying around if people are meant to fly. And that's how I'm now looking more like something someone threw with great strength rather than someone flying under her own power. But what power? Oh great...more flailing! I'm losing balance! Oh look, a cantina...no, wait...worry more about how fast that ground is coming up to meet me!"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadie!"OWW!"Okay, I'm not dead...yet.
Face first into the ground. I pull my head out of the small hole I made with my landing...no, crashing. Yup, that hurts. A lot. But I'm pretty sure landing at that speed, normally should kill you. I don't know how I know that, but I just do. That should have been my end, and yet, here I am, getting up unsteadily, and looking around. I just flew, and now I've crashed, and survived.
Wow, I really hope Spectre can tell me more about myself and why I can fly and do all these things. I mean, what else can I do? How dangerous am I to people around me? Why am I worried about how dangerous I can be to people? Do I know? Wait...of course I know...sort of. Ugh! Really need to find my father and get information before I do something I'll regret. So I walk in to this cantina. I've got a feeling he's in here somewhere, and I don't even know how I know that.
And I quickly learn a seventeen-year old who looks like a twelve-year old shouldn't just waltz into a cantina.
But hey, here's hoping there's an alien race out there where adults look like children.
"Fresh out of a coma and the first thing you do is crash head first into the ground just after a head injury? And I thought I was gendin'la?*"
*Spectre laughs. Loudly. He continues to help her clean off all the dirt and then walks inside with her. She was definitely his daughter alright. Crazy and fearless run in the family. Just wait until she meets her Ba'vodu** Mekket.*
*Eccentric (almost insane)
**Uncle
*Spectre's twin brother, think's he's a demi-god of Kad'Ha'rangir |
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Preacher
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One step closer.
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Post by Preacher on Jan 5, 2015 10:24:03 GMT -8
Silas follows the thin, wiry near-human woman who seems to know where she's going, and just takes it all in. Nysato. A city with the population of a hundred towns on his world. He has never seen the like. Different from Juvex. Cleaner. Not such an air of oppression. He hoped he wasn't looking too much like a tourist. The Preacher refocuses on the here and now.
They made a motley assortment. The Near-Human woman was dressed simply, with few adornments to belie her station or position. The girl Erly and her two reptilian pets, Silas himself, who looked more suited to a parched and weather-beaten frontier than a city, and the armored woman and her acquaintance bringing up the rear. Silas would have said they looked out of place... but he couldn't imagine a place where they'd all fit in. There was no point in stating the obvious.
The cantina was a decent sort of place. Not terribly seedy. He ordered a beer and went to join the others where the Armored Man was waiting.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2015 19:53:15 GMT -8
After entering the cantina, the Nagai tells Neassa in a low and gruff voice, "We will find a booth near the back somewhere," to let the Mandalorian know where to find them after she has finished her business with her acquaintance. Giving Neassa and the human male that she had invited along to the cantina a nod, the Nagai scans the cantina for the other Mandalorian, spotting the large armored hulk, who has been joined by a small, red haired female that looks far too young to be in a cantina, easily.
Keeping an eye out for an empty booth in the rear of the cantina where they might have some chance of discussing their plans without attracting too much attention, the Nagai orders a Gravdinian ale and a Johrian whiskey at the bar and then makes her way to the booth she had spotted. Sitting down, back to a wall and with a view that allows her to see anyone entering the cantina as well as much of what goes on in it, the Nagai slides the whiskey over to an empty space on the table where, in her delusional version of reality, the space is not unoccupied at all, and then waits for the others to arrive so that they can lay their plans. Reaching out for the ale in front of her, the Nagai pauses upon seeing her hand trembling visibly, staring at the hand for a moment unaware that the trembling is a manifestation of the internal struggle between the trio of personality facets comprising her fragmented mind for dominance. The facets were each created to fulfill specific functions, and their cohabitation of a single mind and body has been for the most part a harmonious one given that the shcizophrenic aspects accompanying the Nagai's dissociative identity disorder provide a means for all three to effectively be present simultaneously; but there are times, like now, that the current facet at the helm of their shared consciousness unconsciously seizes and retains control of the body. Making a fist, clenching it tightly as though to will the trembling to cease, the Nagai holds it for a moment and then spreads the fingers of her hand out once more. The hand no longer trembling, the Nagai picks up her ale and sips it after saying gruffly, "It is nothing, I am fine," addressing the empty seat at the table where she slid the whiskey as though the empty air had expressed concern.
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Trent Weston
The Organization
Posts: 169
Affiliation: These guys
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Post by Trent Weston on Jan 6, 2015 2:00:56 GMT -8
Haar'chak. Trent had picked up bits and pieces of the Mandalorian language from previous experience with Neassa, this was a word that he didn't remember off the top of his head but he could deduce the meaning fairly well and make an educated guess as to what the word translated to in basic based on her tone and the tone of the conversation. Even talking about now, months after the fact, made him visibly upset despite his gifts of mimicry. Some things just aren't easy to hide with just a smile and a joke as he had been trying to this entire time. He lost friends that day, good friends, and it ate away at him every day. He managed it as best as he could, to some he might just seem like a guy on hard times, to others he may have them completely fooled, but to those that knew him his eyes told the whole story. Had he still been wearing his shades he may have been able to hide that sadness from even Neassa, but as he looked into the expressionless T-visor of the Mandalorian buy'ce and saw his reflection he could tell that his eyes had lost that cheerful glow that he had once had.
He brought his hands up to the bill of his hat and adjusted the bend as he listened to her ask him for help."Help!" He heard echo in his head as she spoke the words.With a single breath he closed his eyes for just a moment, barely longer than a blink and he was back in the conversation just in time for her joking words to which he smiled genuinely in response. He looked down as he leaned against the wall and thought about the offer as he absently scratched at the healing tissue on his knuckles.
He thought fairly hard on the subject as there were a lot of factors to consider. What if he were being followed by whoever it was that had attacked him in the spaceport? That could put this crew in danger as well. And then there was the fact that he hadn't heard anything from the what was left of the Organization since before he was assaulted, could they have been found? Were they in danger? Would him delaying his return to do this job for Neassa compromise the others defenses in case of an attack? If he was there in the event of an attack would it really make a difference? And for the briefest of moments he considered that perhaps Neassa being on the same planet as him was not a coincidence, the planet in which he was attacked not more than a couple of hours ago and that perhaps she had nefarious purposes for asking him to come along. He of course pushed this notion out of his mind quickly and completely, replacing it with thoughts that perhaps too much time within the Organization has made him distrustful and suspicious. Neassa was his friend.
Finally he looked up at her and nodded. Alright, I'm in. He paused. But I want to hear the plan first.
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