Black Armory | Nya

[Isran Varad]

BLACK​

ARMORY​

LOCATION: Golbah City, Geonosis
TAG: [member=Nya]

There was a first time for everything.

When it came to being the victim of time's vengeance, experiences tended to be...new all around. For the Mandalorian, literally every facet of the life he once knew was either completely erased or altered. Nothing was the same compared to whence he came. Therefore, each and every day Isley was the victim of fresh experiences. More often than not, it was something purely simple - such as a "new" way of going about mundane tasks. Or the fact that chai anything kicked the chit out of caf in this Galaxy. However, every now and again, something new transpired which caused the Mandalorian to reel.

Rejection was one such.

Now, Isley was no stranger to being a starfighter flying over a no-fly zone. The sort of rejection that made his head spin for a solid couple hours was not the sort that was prompted by alcohol or misreading signs of attraction. But rather, it was a rather firm declination of an invitation to his world. For example, when it came to Safira, it was as easy as breathing to inspire the young woman to follow along. She was already raised a Mandalorian foundation - more or less the same as he. However, when it came to the newest member of their little, dysfunctional unit.

There was nothing in common there. No common heritage. No common education. Nothing save for the mutual desire to have enough credits to live comfortably. Now, in terms of personality, Isley and Nya got along great. Great enough that dysfunctions occurred semi-nightly. However. When the Mandalorian removed his buy'ce and placed it in her hands, she promptly shoved the piece of armor right back. It was fine that they entertained one another. Fine that they worked together for mutual survival. Fine that they always went for chai lattes first thing in the morning whilst Safira tended to her hair.

But when it came to sharing in that what was most important to Isley, there was a wall. And for a very brief span of time, the Mandalorian though that she was rejecting him as a being. Common sense eventually wormed back into his skull and inspired him not to dwell on it - but for those few hours, the man felt some type of way about the rejection. It was an entirely new experience, for none he had ever considered worthy enough to become apart of his heritage ever turned the opportunity down. Yet, if that was the case...

Then he'd have to give her the next best thing. For her own good. In the morning, whilst Safira dominated the refresher of their rented space, the pair ventured into the waking Golbah City per the usual. They found the Sprawl's caf stall before the line formed and ordered the same...as usual. But instead of heading right back to their lodgings, Isley directed the blonde down a different path. It was a far...seedier part of the Sprawl that they had yet to explore before. But even on its worst day, the Sprawl was no Hutt Moon. Regardless, he strode along in relative silence, simply tugging her along by the hand for most of the trip.

That is, until he ducked them into a dimly lit storage facility. The man at the counter simply jutted his chin towards one of the numerous, closed "garage" enclosures and Isley stepped over. With but a single tug, the metal plates grinded open, revealing the mother of all weapons caches. Hiding in plain sight from the authorities was certainly working out for this dealer. With a satisfied look on his face, the Mandalorian simply extended his hand as if to present the arsenal to his companion. "Well, if beskar'gam isn't good enough for you, how's about one of these? Take your pick."

 

[Nya]

​

Location: Golbah City, Genosis
Tag: [member="Isley Verd"]

Mornings had become some of her favourite times. Not because it meant that they were bereft of Safi's company, but wandering the streets of Golbah City, Isley tugging at her hand as he guided her to and from the caf shop, going on and on about all about this time that was different - about all he missed and all he found to be wonderful. She'd found it best not to ask too many questions when it came to why he was here and what exactly it meant that there was some sort of rift in time that had allowed him to walk into her life - instead she'd taken the opportunity to simply enjoy what time they had, and do her best not to dig when he got that look on his face.

The time they'd spent together, the three of them, had been wonderfully simple. Between their early morning jaunts around the seedier parts of the city, Isley ducking out when they returned to help with Safi's training, and the things that they did as a group in the evenings... It was a blessed life. After so many years locked away, alone... Nya hadn't ever hoped to have anything this good again - not without having to use what skills she had to get it, and that never felt tangible or sustainable to her. Her heritage could make finding company so simple, but there was nothing about it that felt real.

As the pair collected their teas from the vendor as they always did and her Mandolorian guide collected her hand up once more, she knew that his desire to hold her hand, to tug at her to follow a different pat back to their little rented piece of heaven was genuine, and to her that was more valuable than anything should could have manufactured herself. The small chuckle that escaped her at his insistent tugging at her hand didn't hold an ounce of annoyance, simply moving a bit faster as he guided her down some of the less frequented side streets of the Sprawl. The smirk she'd been wearing faded at the edges as it dawned on her that they were going to be stopping at the scuzzy little shop Isley had been leading them passed.

The smile faded further as he dropped her hand to activate the doors into the small storage shed. She carefully stepped around him as he spoke, those clear blue eyes scanning the contents of the locked as a frown cemented across her lips. Her free hand reached forward gingerly, fingers wrapping around the butt of a pistol, careful not to lay her fingers across the trigger as she lifted and turned the gun over in her hand. Her voice came to him without her eyes leaving the gun, her tone completely flat.

"Not good enough for me...? Is that honestly what you think, Isley?" Long lashes rose as her eyes met his. There was a heat in her cheeks, and when she spoke again, it had entered her voice as well. "You think I said no to you, to Safi, because you're not good enough for me?" With a flick of her wrist the weapon landed atop the rest in the pile with a clatter that only guns could make, the pistol sliding down to the edge of the weapons that were visible as she rounded on him.

"I don't know what you think we've been doing every night for the last week, but I can assure you I'm not the sort of woman that does those things with someone I believe is beneath me." It seemed as though perhaps the young Verd had misread her hesitation - and that his assumptions had not been appreciated.

 

[Isran Varad]

Location: Golbah City, Geonosis
Tag: [member=Nya]

Not good enough for me...

The Mandalorian did not know what the expect coming into the shop this morning. In truth, if he had taken a moment to think through what he had intended to do more, then there wouldn't be fresh heat bleeding into the air. There would not be the clatter of a firearm slamming upon a stainless steel surface. There would not be the owner of the seedy establishment rising to take a "break" so that the lovers could quarrel in peace. Hell, if Isley had taken a few seconds an ran his thoughts past Safira, perhaps his thoughts could have been keened into something far less...jagged.

But that was just how the Mandalorian operated. He was not the pinnacle of grace or poise. He certainly was not adept in coming to actual terms with how he felt, as evidenced by the reaction seething forth from his lover. When she spoke, he turned - his attention drawn first by the cacophony of metal, but next by her tone. His brown eyes leveled against her gaze, narrowing slightly from behind his visor as he listened to her bear her thoughts. For but a moment, silence ruled him until his hands ascended to grip the buy'ce. His face was exposed to the lukewarm environment of the shop, before the din of the beskar piece clattering upon the table joined the conversation.

"You...Just don't get it." he breathed, shaking his head slightly. "What else was I supposed to think, Nya? You just..." he huffed, snapping his eyes closed in order to focus the rampage of thoughts forming in his skull. His stomach knotted as the rejection he thought he had let go began to bubble just beneath his skin. It felt terrible...looking someone he adored in the face every day, but ignoring the sensation of feeling inadequate perpetually. Looking in the mirror, questioning what was wrong with how he lived that she would turn him away. Wondering if maybe he was doing something wrong?

"It's never like that." he said, finally piecing together a coherent train of thought. "It's never me and someone else, in a room alone. There's always fire. There's always blood. And there's always a brutal, vicious person on the receiving end of that helmet. It's never like what I...It's always about strength."

"But with you? It was about the way you have no problem marching back to that chai staff if they kriff my order up. It wasn't about you being a great warrior - and don't get me wrong you are. And I've no doubt in my mind that you care. But." His fingers thrusted towards the helm. "This is all I am. And you shoved it right back without a word. You walked away and went right back to smiling as if we didn't speak. And we never did again."

"Don't you get it? It wasn't just being a Mandalorian...it was me, Nya. I was giving you me and you shoved it away. So tell me, if it wasn't that, what was it? Please make me understand."

 

[Nya]

​

Location: Golbah City, Genosis
Tag: [member="Isley Verd"]

The man was an idiot...

But he was her idiot.

Isley was many things; a leader, a warrior, a good man - but a liar? The gods above and below knew that he had the poker face of a 5 year old holding a full house. She respected it about him, honestly, since it meant that people trusted him easily and followed him loyally... It was one of the many things that had drawn her to him when they first met. So often in her life people had treated her differently because of what she had done; they had worried that by being too honest they ran the risk of having her relapse... It made interactions with anyone nearly unbearable. Isley, and to a lesser extent Safi, were like a breath of fresh air in that regard. The ebony haired beauty they often shared a bed with followed Isley with a blinding trust that made Nya jealous at times - but she didn't begrudge the woman her loyalty. No, instead she envied Isley's ability to inspire the woman so easily...

As the man removed his helm and tossed it onto the metal table at their side, she flinched at the clatter it made. Soft grey-blue eyes crinkled at the edges as she watched the galaxy's worst poker face in all of it's naked pain. She had seen it the day that she had casually tried to brush off his offer to join the pair as a Mandolorian herself... Though now she could see that being so cavalier about it had been a mistake. On the onset it had seemed like a simple offer, one that been extended to her on a whim - to join them in their shiny suits and fire wrist rockets at enemies... In that sense the choice had been easy. Nya was no battle tested warrior, she was no Mando born and bred to offer blood and limb for the cause of family and pride...

But he was...

As he thrust an angry finger towards that discarded helm and insisted that it was all he was she could feel an ache start in her chest. The way he said it... Gods. He honestly believed that. As he rounded out his little rant she reached for him, having watched from the corner of her eye as the shop keep had left them alone, and grabbed that still angrily pointed finger. She used it to tug him towards her, her other hand rising to cup the side of his face. Her voice was calm, soft, apologetic.

"Isley, please. Had I known what it meant to you I never would have been so flippant. But you must understand that what I am, and what you are... We're not the same. That beautiful passion that makes you such an amazing fighter, such a brilliant leader... That doesn't live in me." She gave him a weak smile, her thumb gliding softly along his cheek. "Not to say that I don't have my uses, but you know as well as I that you're happiest on the battlefield with Safira at your side - and that's no place for me."

Hands carefully unwound from his own and slid gently from his face as she turned, still staying close to him, and scooped the helm back into her hands. She cradled it in her hands, held between them as her eyes returned to his. "What makes me strong isn't armor and weaponry - and what makes you powerful and a force to be feared isn't this helmet, or strange way your people have of speaking..." She lofted the helmet a touch to emphasize her point. "What makes us a force to reckon with is each other, Isley. It's your faith in Safi and me and yourself. I would never reject that. I would never say no to that."

He most certainly was an idiot... And hopefully he still wanted to be her idiot.

 

[Isran Varad]

Location: Golbah City, Geonosis
Tag: [member=Nya]

Their worlds were different.

When Mandalorians clashed, the heavens shook and all creation trembled at their fury. There were few moments - rare in the present bliss - where Isley and Safira would have a passionate disagreement. And in those instances, tempers flared, hands were thrown, but in the end there was always an understanding. And always the satisfaction which came with knowing one's point got across. Mandalorians were accustomed to sating their angst explosively; but with Nya, things were just so different. They never fought. Never butt heads. And even in the midst of his own feelings, the blonde effortlessly contradicted everything the Mandalorian understood.

She didn't step into the bounds of wrath, but rather reached for him. Braved the fire and wrapped her arms around the finger which indicated the helmet upon the table. She tugged him close, not to bestow a fiery keldabe kiss, but to trail her touch upon his cheek. The rampage within his skull slowed to a trickle as the chime of her voice reached her ears. The knot in his stomach...eased ever so slightly. She didn't understand, okay, he'd have to make up for the outburst certainly. But.

His hand reached up and found her hand upon his cheek. His touch simply rested upon hers for a moment. "I thought you knew." he said, exhaling softly. "I know they say opposites attract but..." He once more paused, attempting to put some semblance of order into his thoughts. The way she looked at him. The way she smiled ever so slightly and took her helm into her hands, as if it was the most precious gift in the world. It made him forget which way was up at times.

"I don't want this to end. And even if my way isn't right for you," he began, gingerly moving his helmet closer to her form. "the person who walks that path still wants to be with you. Completely. And I want this to work. We have something good here, you, me, and Safira. When we're not skating from battlefield to job, home is beautiful. But...fighting fulfills us. What fulfills you? What can I do to make sure you're just as whole as we are when we fight?"

He was an idiot at times. Certainly her idiot. But he meant well over all. "And, I don't mean in the romantic sense either. When we're home...when it's just us, curled up watching a holoflick, I'm happy. Just as happy as I am in the fight. I just don't want this to be us dragging you along to battles where you just worry about us until it's done. Does that make sense?" He sure hoped it did.

 

[Nya]

​

Location: Golbah City, Genosis
Tag: [member="Isley Verd"]

She felt something ease in her chest as he appeared to calm, his hand rising to rest over her own as she cupped his cheek. She carefully moved her hand to lower both his and hers down to the helm once more, resting her hand on the cold metal as her eyes searched his. He had a point... It was easy enough for her to see what made him happy, what made Safira happy - they were warriors. Born for fun, fighting and... other words that started with F. The joy they found in risking life and limb, running blindly into battle - that wasn't for her. However, that didn't mean that she was helpless... Perhaps it would help them both to remind him of that.

Eyes raked across the pile of weapons that he'd brought her to see, looking thoughtful for a moment before she gently pressed the helm into his hands, collecting up the one that had been holding her own, and turned. She led him from the shop, flashing the owner an apologetic smile as she did so. It was unfortunate that he hadn't thought to bring this up before they arrived, as it likely would have saved all three of them some strife.

The blonde held his hand firmly as she led him from the shop, back down the seedy looking alleyway and into the street. Clear grey-blue eyes scanned the roadway, blessedly clear as she released his hand and moved to a collection of trash cans that sat near the edge of the sidewalk. Her voice was calm as she walked away from him, calling over her shoulder. "You read my dossier, I assume? You seem like a smart man, Isley - clever at the very least. Safira has your back in a fight because she thinks like you do, she's strong like you are..." Footfalls ceased before the collection of grubby looking cans as she tossed her head, her hair falling over her shoulder as she smirked at him. "My talents are a bit less... Subtle?"

Her hands raised from her sides, palms facing towards the cans as she reached - the soft whispers that spoke to her sweetly at the back of her head came rushing forward. Those strands she'd tossed over her shoulders started to move in a breeze that affected only her, her eyes sliding closed.

Beautiful girl... We missed you. Where have you been? Is it time - shall we go?

A soft smile touched her lips as the mass of garbage shuddered violently and began to fold in on itself. The pile was much larger than her, but as that soft grin shone down upon it, it crumpled, and shrunk, and collapsed down into a tight ball no larger than her fist, the sounds the metal and trash gave a violent rending shriek in the quiet of the street they stood in. After a time it was still, the grin slowly fading from her lips as her hands lowered. Eyes opened after a time, staring with blatant apathy towards what she'd done before she turned back to the Mandolorian she'd dragged along with her.

"See?" Her hand motioned towards the compact ball that was all that remained of what had once been quite the mess. "You don't need to worry about me, Isley... And you don't need to concern yourself with the things that bring me joy." The gentle smile she offered was tired, and she lifted her hands to reach for him, beckoning him to her. "You bring me joy. Safira's smile and the way she watches you, those things bring me joy. The things that make my heart sing?... Those things would make you weep."

 

[Isran Varad]

Location: Golbah City, Geonosis​

Tag: [member=Nya]​

Ah, the dossier.

The Mandalorian recalled the moment when her file had been downloaded upon his datapad. The file...well...bounty, had a rather extensive list of her exploits. There was a river of blood which caked her hands - but the one thing the reports never explicitly stated was just how she managed to rack up her kills. When the trio had met within that seedy cantina all those months ago, Isley did not poke and prod too much about the how. But rather, he recognized that she did and wanted to include her in his merry little band. The recruitment was far less about falling in love and far more about building something that would stand the test of ambushes and turbolasers.

But as she mentioned the file, the Mandalorian's eyebrows raised. His cheek felt...abandoned as her touch descended towards the helmet, but the rest of him would allow it. Nya's attention was then placed upon something else within the shop. Something literally trivial. Yet she raised her arms with purpose, causing Isley's eyes to bridge the gap between her reach and the intended target. The rubbish bin? What? That's when he felt it. It was like...a weight that permeated far deeper than his skin. A pressure which sank beneath the plates of beskar and descended into his very being. He could feel whatever the Hell she was mustering within her hands.

And as her eyes lulled to a close, the rubbish bin caved in on itself. A sickening, metallic cacophony erupted into being at the display, causing the Mandalorian to stiffen for a moment. Yet as the telekinetics came to a conclusion and the metal clattered upon the floor with finality, Isley looked upon her anew. Her talents were indeed the furthest thing from subtle. She could cave in a man inside their armor with ease, it seemed. That thought alone...well. He understood.

She'd find him with a distant look upon his face for a moment. A look as he thought about the other reports which made their way across his datapad over the months. From where he hailed, the Force was never much of an ally. Never much a tool in his kit. But here? In this Galaxy? The man that bore his face and name...the things he supposedly did with the Force? They weren't subtle either. From what Nya just displayed, the Mandalorian was left with the hollow impression that, just maybe, the reports he read were not hyperbole. Perhaps...they were the real deal. Her words roused him from his thoughts straightaway.

"I understand." His words were simple, but carried with them a weight as he moved to set the helm down upon the table. With his hands free, he reached and placed his fingertips on either side of her face. A small smile played upon his lips as he gazed upon her, a new adoration dancing within his eyes. "I understand that we make you happy. So happy. Just like you make me. But those things that make your heart sing? Tell me about them. I'm...curious."

"Maybe that will help me get to understand myself better."