Private Damsel in Distress: Unlikely friends.

[Daphne deWinter]

Location: Dromuund Kaas
Equipment: Lightsaber, Wrist grapple, Butterfly blades, two on either side of her belt and one in her sock.
Armour: Stealth suit (Style)
Tags: Ryv
#50C878
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Daphne would flinch when he caught up to her and his arm wrapped around her waist. She would eye him for a moment as he helped her and even glared at him when he turned her away from the cockpit. For a moment her lips would part to argue but she'd simply shake her head allowing herself to be guided away.

"Trust me.... it's best they don't know you exist..." She would say softly as she would take to the bed. Nodding to him when he decided on where to take them... Honestly she didn't really know anywhere safe to take him apart from her ship.
When he walked away she would get to peeling off the top of her stealth suit, the tight fabric leaving small seam line marks down her arm and torso which was dressed in a soft fabric under her suit, it was black with no sleeves allowing her modesty like a tube top that left her slim mid-drift bare . Without her suit, her markings could be seen, the tattoos that ran up her left arm and created a delicate and complex pattern on her skin, the tattoo had clearly been redone over scar tissue on her wrists, but the scars on her other wrist were still a pale pink and untouched, evidence of someone who had been bound and tied down for long periods of time. The scar on her right collarbone could now be seen in all it's horrific glory too but she would try hide that with her dark locks.

From here she would shift as they took off, for a moment waiting as the rumbling of her ship settled she would move to grab a damp cloth, cleaning the flecks of blood from her face, neck and hands. She wasn't gentle with herself and by the time he returned to her her hands were spotless but raw from how hard she scrubbed.

She would frown slightly as she looked down, uncomfortable with the situation...She didn't ever let anyone fly her ship, nor was it common for her to let anyone on.... Who was she even kidding she didn't let people live! Now what was she going to do? Lie to them? Run?...All this going on in her mind she would look to him and would give him a bright smile now.
She would sit rather quietly as he worked but her eyes would watch his handy work when she could.
"You know you really don't have to help me.... You've already been too nice to me." She would give him a half smile but turning her glance away from him as he brought out the needle. She didn't flinch as it started to piece her skin and sow her up but she really didn't like watching, of all things needles were what made her skin crawl.
"...Thanks for having my back.... I owe you.... and if you ever need me... I'll come." She would say softly.

She was starting to feel rather strange as she would look over herself after she was patched up, her nose was straightened, the cuts were cleaned and dressed, it was just her ribs now and for a moment her lips would curl and her shoulders would wiggle in a pained laugh at herself as she would take the flask taking a sip before near snorting it as she started to giggle.
"You nicked a dead guys flask.... I thought I was bad." She'd hiss as she tried to stop her sudden amusement, her hands taking his cloak and curling it around her like a small evil burrito. " Here I am thinking I must look like the worst Sith ever and here's you stealing booze..." She'd grin and bite her bottom lip as she held the flask out for him to have a drink. "Boy you certainly as rotten to the core aren't you." She'd wince as her giggles started again, the sound of which was almost childish and clearly not something she was used to doing as she would flush pink and hide her face with the fabric of his cloak.
" Stay with me for a little, drink with me....till we get to wherever you decided.... where is the Master of thievery planning to go next?"

 

[Ryv]

Ryv looked over the irritated flesh from her aggressive cleanup job and grimaced. He couldn't imagine the sort of upbringing one would have to experience to treat their own body with such malice. He remained silent, not speaking out against her means of hygiene. She's an adult all the same as him. Who was he to judge her and her choices? Daphne's words drew his attention from his work. He paused in his bandaging and looked back at her.

"I wouldn't be too thankful yet, I've still gotta get through the hard part," Ryv joked as he began threading the needle through the flesh surrounding the freshly cleaned wound. "There isn't such a thing as too nice. I understand its commonplace for the Sith to beat that sorta thing out of their acolytes, but when you think that going forward, think of me," he looked up at her, offering his typical smile. The point of contact the thug made upon his jaw had darkened into a blackish-purple bruise, but he seemed entirely unphased. "You can do good by people and still be a badass. I helped you out, and I was able to take those guys on back there, no problem. It's not about a philosophy or way of life. It's all about what you're capable of and how you handle yourself."

Blood mingled with sweat and the fabric of her top as Ryv worked through the sewing process. Once he finished, he took a wet cloth, wiped her down, and dropped both into a nearby sanitation bin.

"You don't owe me either. I help people cause its what my pops taught me to do. Just do right by someone else, and we're even," Ryv countered before he began wiping down the surrounding area. A mess of blood and bandages littered the floor around them, but the kiffar did his due diligence in ensuring everything was as spotless as he found it. He chuckled in response to her joke before taking a seat on the ground beside her. "I thought you could use it for the pain. Based on how you tackled your wounds last night, I rightly assumed you weren't one to travel with luxuries like bacta tanks or stims. That's the best I could do with what I had. And that dude who I took it from was still alive. Only folks I dropped were uh, the ones I crushed, I guess," he winced as he said it, noticeably conflicted about the situation as a whole.

Daphne's various gestures did not go unnoticed, though he said nothing in regards to them. Instead, he eyed the flask of whiskey and considered taking it from her. He hadn't had a drink in so long; surely, just a sip would be fine. His fingers flexed as if to reach out, but he steeled himself, shaking his head at the offered flask.

"I appreciate the offer. I'm just not much a drinker. When I was a kid, bout thirteen for that matter, the Sith killed my old man and abducted my mother. Spent a few years after that running spice and selling guns. Most of my credits went to booze and spice. Hard habit to kick, but I managed with enough willpower. Drink to your heart's content."

Daphne deWinter ​

 

[Daphne deWinter]

Location: Dromuund Kaas
Equipment: Lightsaber, Wrist grapple, Butterfly blades, two on either side of her belt and one in her sock.
Armour: Stealth suit (Style)
Tags: Ryv Ryv
#50C878
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Daphne would look to him as their jokes died away, wrapped in his cloak she'd tilt her head at him.
"There is a thing called too nice.... I could have killed you, when I first woke up.... after you took out those guys.... I could have killed you at least 6 times now... I don't do what I do because of my philosophy or because I want to be stronger or because I want to rule over anyone... I do what I do because I have to. There is nothing else for me, kindness only ever gets you killed and I have a mission first..... I'm pretty sure my up bringing was a little different from the other acolytes.... " She would say softly as her brows would furrow slightly. She knew what was coming after this and she knew she was going to have to lie and cover her hide. " I would take me owing you as more of a security blanket for your life right now, Darling." She would say simply.

Daphne would look to him as he declined the drink. For a moment she would fall silent and put the flask to the side. She would knee up on the bed looking at him softly.
"... Then we don't need to drink.." She would say softly as she would reach out with her hand letting her hand take his jaw to look at the bruise on his cheek before moving to fetch him a cold cloth to press against his bruise. The pain was bad but she didn't normally drink to numb her pains, nor did she tend to drink unless she had to. When she had the cloth in hand she would give him very little choice as she would tilt his head would her knuckle as her hand would press the cold compress to his cheek.

"You know I've never met anyone like you before, no ones ever taken a hit for me, or flattened a bunch of slavers for me." She would say softly. " They weren't good men.... I hope you know that killing them was probably for the best anyway...I know that you Jedi carry grief and regret like a burden. " She would say simply as her hands would move, moving her finger in come hither movement.
"Time to have at you, Darling.... You took damage too, I don't want you thinking this is one sided." Her hands would turn upwards and flick signalling for him to lift his shirt.
"You Know what I hate about all this?.... I am never going to able to tell anyone I had a model in my bed... not that I have anyone to tell but It would still be a conversation topper." She'd move to fetch some fresh pieces of kit before standing just in front of him, adding on her gloves and looking to him.
For someone as badly hurt as her she would breath through the pain with long low breaths she had talents of her own, she just had to center her focus enough.

 

[Ryv]

Ryv listened to her speak, watching her from the corner of his eye. A small part of him hoped these small acts of kindness would be enough to sway her from her line of thinking towards something far better for her. It proved wishful in the end. Daphne required more time under the guidance of those like himself. Years of suffering and zealous duty could not be wiped away across a span of twenty-four hours, no matter how righteous and empathetic the kiffar could be. Even though a part of it could be considered frustrating by some, it brought a smile to his face. So many underestimated what a kind person with the determination to strive forth could accomplish. He only hoped to prove her and the rest of the galaxy wrong, one miracle at a time.

"I don't thi-" Ryv voiced his disagreement before her slender fingers took hold of his chin and shifted the bruised jaw to light. Rather than argue further, he reached up and took the cloth from her before pressing it against his cheek. "Swelling does suck, so I guess this is a fair trade," the kiffar admitted to her before once more falling silent. Her words spoke of so much pain and loneliness. The thought alone sent a pang of sadness through his being. "You aren't the first person I took a beating for. Its how I ended up spending six months in a Sith-Imperial prison camp, under the gaze of a mad Sith Lord. My friends were injured and unable to escape from the Sith Empire on their own. I sacrificed myself and wound up in chains. I'm hoping when I eventually make my way home, I'll get to see me safe and sound."

Rather than comment on her sentiment in regards to the slavers, Ryv remained silent. He couldn't argue they were undeserving of what became of them; he just wished it could've turned out different. He found a second chance at life with the help of others. It felt wrong not doing the same for others.

"The bruising isn't so bad, plus the burns will probably fade with time. I guess its fair game though, I did help you out," Ryv pushed himself to his feet and pulled at the armorweave top hugging his form. Scars decorated the entirety of his upper body. Where the two blaster bolts left his flesh an angry shade of red, the contact point slowly darkened as a purplish-black bruising continued to form. Beyond the latest wounds, scars caused by various weapons likely caught her attention. It appeared his flesh had been torn open, sliced through, and battered by someone capable at the hands of a seasoned torturer. His arms were no different, mirroring the shape of his torso and neck.

Besides the horrors of inflicted wounds, a beautiful tattoo stretched along the length of his left arm, to his upper back and left pectoral muscle. It appeared the beginning of the tattoo showcased a star going supernova. A blend of various colors leaked down past his bicep and tricep. As it moved further down the arm, it shifted into a series of beautifully done wildflowers twirling towards the back of his left hand.

Daphne deWinter ​