Electrical Feel

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

​

He was giving her the room to feel the weight of the blade.

It was a good one, taken from the corpse of a rival slaver two moons ago, but a bit too short for him to fight with in any real fashion. Throwing was a different story, of course. The Twi'lek pointedly ignored her disrespect, it mattered not, because all that Xian cared about was her fighting prowess. The lack of respect she had for herself was a different matter and one not as easily ignored.

"You would run from a fight?" He demanded of her, lips now scowled down. This wasn't something he had been expecting from this one.

Oh, he didn't know her at all.

But the way Del had moved during battle and right before it? A true killer or one with the potential for it, it was that potential he had wanted to tap into. To test himself, to figure out how she ticked and if she was capable of defeating him in the moment.

"Cowardice." Head shook. "Run then, I will not waste my energy on the undeserving."

Already he turned around, showing her his back in an insult that few could stomach. After all... a hunter only showed its back to those they consider completely teethless and without danger.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Del had been trained as a warrior. From the time she was old enough to talk, it had been steeped into nearly ever aspect of her life. Her family, who her father was, even if she hadn't met him until she was an adult. On Mandalore, there was no getting around it. And there were people who would have been just as dismissively disappointed of her right then and there as he was. Would have frowned down their noses or shaken their heads. But here was the thing....

She didn't give a mynock's arse about their opinions.

The dark haired woman had rejected that culture, that upbringing in exchange for something that she chose. The life she wanted to live. Performing acts of martial prowess for the sake of someone else, the sake of honor? It simply did not appeal. His insults rolled off her like water.

Stang, if I'd known that would work I would have done it right off the bat.

Del wasn't a coward. She was just practical. And there was no gain to be had in going toe to toe with a sword wielding lunatic.

Of course, there was just one problem.

He was walking toward the people who'd paid her to protect them.

Inwardly, Delilah groaned.

Technically, they weren't paying her for that. She wasn't a martial mercenary. That hadn't been in her job description. At all. But there she was, possibly the last person between him and people who were entirely non-combatants. She could walk away. Say she never ran into him if it came down to it, or just make it sound like her injuries had been worse and she couldn't stop him. Really, that was the truth. She didn't think she'd win if they clashed, blade to blade. She might be able to slow him down, but stop him? Unlikely-

A soft energy whirr came from the blaster carbine in her hands.

Six months ago, it wouldn't have mattered. She'd have turned and walked away.

So why was it so damned hard to do that now? What had changed?

She knew exactly what had changed.

And he made her want to be a better person.

Whatever had taken out the blaster had finally worn off. She could feel it, alive in her hands. At least, that was how she imagined it. She debated, briefly, setting it aside and pulling out the pistol, setting it to stun. Knock him out. Not kill him.

But she hadn't changed that much.

She didn't enjoy killing. But sometimes, some people just had to be put down. Some people were just rabid hounds on two legs. She'd be doing a favor to everyone. Probably to him.

Del aimed and fired without hesitation.

And knew, a moment later that she'd made a very, very serious mistake. The shut down of the weapon had rebooted the system. The older model carbine didn't have an automatic calibration.

It wouldn't kiss the back of his head as she had aimed. It wouldn't kill him. But it might make him very, very angry.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

Alarm in his ears and at the back of his head.

It was screaming at him: danger! But Xian wasn't sure what kind of danger that was, until the whirr and the swhooo of the carbine roaring sounded behind him. It was too fast to do anything about it. Within that frame of a second Xian send a prayer and then it hit him. Right of his shoulder, against the piece of duraplast armor that covered his back.

Luck.

The pain was still there as energy was absorbed but kinetic force still send him stumbling forward. Xian wasn't the one to waste a chance to live, he walked with the stumble, getting down on one knee and immediately turning around. Now the flat of the blade was resting on his forearm, steadying the movement.

He rotated once and the blade moaned as circuits were suddenly enabled.

Within the span of three moments from the touch of her carbine there was a roar as the blast-sword let loose a volley against the coward. Pushing himself up the Twi'lek gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he dashed back towards Delilah. This one didn't deserve the release of death, but Xian wasn't going to let her go that easily now either.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

As soon as she realized her mistake, she adjusted her aim to account for the drift and fired off another series of shots, not counting on one this time to get the job done. But they flew harmlessly over his head when he spun and knelt.

She didn't get a chance to offer further response, his own weapon roaring to life. Lucky that she knew already just what that gorram thing was or she would have been completely blindsided by it. As it was, the damage he'd done to her knee made moving quickly difficult, so rather than anything particularly graceful she dove behind a stack of crates. Wincing as her knee hit the ground, she kept moving immediately.

She'd pop up on the other side, firing the carbine again as he (hopefully) kept heading to the spot she'd disappeared at. The way his footfalls echoed in the alley made it difficult to be sure.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

He had seen her dive for the crates by the plasma burst against the wall, radiating light for a few flickering seconds, before it cast the alley in deep dark shadows again.

So while Delilah heard echoes steps, Xian knew exactly where he was going.

There was pain in his body, shoulder karked from the fall and then the absorption of the blaster fire, but this was what he did. Take the pain, immerse himself in it and become stronger. There would be hell to pay for this later, but right now Xian didn't care. Instead he dropped down as stray carbine blasters shot past him and he amped the capacity of the blast-sword.

Still from his kneeling position he let go two shots, one skimming just past the crates - not to hit, but to weaken the wood and send wooden shrapnel against her, the second one right through the the weakened crates.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

It was his first shot that saved her, really. While it weakened the crates, it also sent wood splintering up. Del flinches, arms coming up to cover her face and ducking down. If she hadn't, and his shot had just been able to go right through, the fight would have been over.

Instead, the second bolt grazed her shoulder, sending a line of fire along her skin and slicing right through the leather jacket. She hissed in tightly through her teeth, cursing silently as she reached back with her injured hand. Pulling the smaller blaster pistol from where she'd tucked it, she shifted down, away from where he'd fired his last shot. She couldn't aim well with her injured hand, but she didn't have to.

Reaching around the outside of the far crate, she let off a wild shot, hoping to draw his attention before she used the top of the crate to steady the carbine and let off a burst of fire in his direction.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

She forgot one thing.

Xian was a mad dog, who had to be put down for his safety and the safety of those around him. It was especially obvious when she noticed he wasn't there where she expected him to be.

Instead?

He was right there, jumping over the crate, coming at her in speed.

It wasn't fast enough to avoid the first shot of the carbine. That one hit him straight in the chest, duraplast absorbing the energy, but the kinetic force slamming against muscle underneath. Something whined inside of him, but Xian ignored it. Ignored the fire shuddering just underneath his skin as pain pushed through his veins.

His body slammed against hers, the carbine pushed away and the pommel of his sword dashing into her chest.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Chit-

Her eyes widened, reflecting the close impact of the blaster, and then they were both going down, the weight of him bearing her down to the duracrete in a flash. The pommel of his sword impacted, hard, and she felt something pop- lightening pain coursed through her chest, radiating out in all directions and for a moment she couldn't breath, couldn't think.

But instinct and muscle memory kicked in.

Without thinking about it, she brought up her other hand, the wounded one that held the pistol. She didn't need to be able to aim well for this. In the tangle, she couldn't bring it up to his face, but the way he'd slammed his sword into her and his position above her left that armpit exposed. Without hesitation she shoved it against him, pulling the trigger.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

It was dark.

He had been focused on the immediate threat: the carbine and not the hold-out blaster hiding in her hand. It was sheer luck that the Twi'lek shifted his body in preparation to punch her lights out, otherwise the blaster bolt would have penetrated skin, muscle and might have gotten through to vital organs inside.

Instead the barrel rubbed against a piece of armor and when it roared most of it was absorbed by the suit. It hurt and Xian roared in pain, but it was already established that Xian and pain?

They were best mates.

As the feeling left his left arm his head descended down, coming crashing into Del's face.

Once, twice.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

She knew as soon as it went off, the way it felt recoiling against the edge of the armored plate instead of the soft vulnerability beneath his arm. She might have hoped that the pain would at least give enough pause, breathing room, for her to get out from the exact position she'd been trying to avoid earlier-

But then he slammed his head into her face. Her vision exploded with stars, white eating at the edges of it. She felt the crunch of her nose beneath his forehead on the first hit, but it was the second, when he impacted the already broken bone there and blood sprayed that she screamed.

Del wasn't done, but it was growing harder and harder to match him. She had dropped the pistol when he headbutted her, but now she reached up, thumb going for his eye and launching the knee of her uninjured leg up between his.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

He was just about to slam his head in her face for the third time when her nails scratched against his left ear.

A whine as nails scratched open flesh, blood spraying. He couldn't do anything about it - his left arm was useless and his right was already balled in a fist, descending into her face. There was no mercy to be found here, he groaned as her knee dashed into his thigh, but all that it did was shift his body to avoid more... egregious contact.

Once more his fist crashed into her face.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Without resistance her thumb found the corner of his eye after raking nails- if he'd pulled back, abandoned beating her face to a pulp, that would have been a win in her eyes. Instead, she took her consolation prize as she levered her thumb, nail first, into the socket.

She pushed and hooked, pulled for maximum damage because what crazy person would stay in that position with that happening?

Apparently this one.

The next blow to her face loosened her grip just a bit, bells ringing that didn't even exist. Then another and another, her hand falling away from the ruined mess of his eye as he just didn't stop. By the fourth she wasn't struggling, wasn't fighting back, just trying to breath through bloody mouth- not through her nose, not now.

At that point, unconsciousness would have been a blessing.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

The scream turned into a howl of pain as his eye was literally ripped and punctured under insistent nail and finger.

But he did not let up.

He couldn't.

Even if it was causing him immense pain and made him lose his eye, the pain and anger were intoxicating, his fist wasn't guided anymore by his brain or thought. It just was and right now, dealing the pain he was granted was all that he cared about. Eventually she stopped clawing against his socket, hand weakly falling down and eventually his knuckles stopped against the squelch of broken meat.

"A coward, huh?" Xian mumbled as only functional arm wiped away blood from her face to look down on her. Strange. There was no depth anymore, the pain dull sharp at the back of his head. "Warrior's spirit in you after all, that's good."

He tasted blood.

His blood.

"Until we meet again, fighter." His fist was the last thing she saw, until she would wake again.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Consciousness returned like a migraine, slow and painful.

She lay exactly where he'd left her, but it took a couple of minutes to swim far enough out of the fugue to figure that out. It took longer to force herself to her hands and knees, whimpering when she tried to put weight on the injured one. She could barely see, her face swollen, blood crusting her nose, her mouth, her eyes. Eventually, she managed to stand, leaning heavily on the wall.

​It took a long time to limp back to her ship.

****

Concussion- she almost lost consciousness twice on the flight back. Broken nose. Probably broken cheekbone. Lip split all the way down to the muscle of her jaw. Dozens of minor lacerations and abrasions. A blaster bolt burned into her shoulder. The sword slash across her upper arm. Fractures in the small bones of her right hand. Something dislocated, a rib? She had no idea but it hurt to breath. Hopefully just bruised. Her knee was swollen to twice the size it ought to be, but she didn't think that was broken- maybe partially dislocated, but with the level of swelling it was hard to tell.

It was late when she made it back to the apartment on Velusia. It had taken her forever to make it up the stairs, and she almost threw up when she made it to the landing. Pain or the concussion? She didn't know.

Part of her hoped Walk wasn't home. Sometimes their schedules didn't match and they could go days without seeing each other. If he wasn't home, it would give her a chance to get cleaned up, fully assess. At least make sure she was less of a speeder wreck when he saw her next.

She wanted that.

And yet when she opened the door, leaning on it heavily, part of her had never been so happy to see him sitting at that kitchen table. His back to her.

"Walk-" she croaked, but didn't move inside.

She wasn't sure she had the strength to let go of that door.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

He heard the door hiss open, but didn't turn to look.

Not when her voice filtered through him. "Hey, Del. Cooked us bo-" Walker blinked, dropped the soldering work he had been doing on a piece of equipment and turned around.

Eyes went wide.

She was... Walk wasn't sure when he exactly got up and ran towards her, but it was right before she started falling and Ducarte just about managed to wrap his arms around her. Carefully, very carefully, he pulled her into the apartment and then shut the door behind her. Locking it tight, so they wouldn't-

Feth.

"Del, feth. Don't- I will be back, I promise." He wanted to kiss her... but where? what? where would it not hurt? Instead Walk touched her shoulder, before rising up and running over to the kitchen, disappearing inside. He was rummaging around in the cabinets, when he noticed the open window.

That's where Walk froze up.

Run. Every single fiber in his body told him to run, to walk away from this... Nuna and Bantha were right behind her, if he left now he could get on his ship. Immediately after that he felt nauseous for even considering it. Instead Walk set his jaw and turned his back on the window, finally finding the aid kit and running right back in.

She hadn't moved.

Eyes closed. "Del, you still with me?" He listened closely and could feel her breath wash over his ear... that was good. "going to patch you up, Delilah, it will be fine... you will be fine. we will be fine."

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Most of her vision was blurry. She couldn't see the exact expression on his face, but seeing him there, standing up - that was the last of her strength. He caught her before she fell, knee giving out completely. She cried out softly when he wrapped his arms around her, a small sound of pain, but let him lower her to the floor. Really, she wasn't about to stop him, since the alternative was to land on her face.

This was better.

"Don't-"

Go. But he was gone again, and she just wanted, so badly, to go to sleep. She closed her eyes for a moment, but his return a moment later was only for the good.

She nodded in response, but regretted the movement immediately. Grabbing onto him with her left hand, she struggled to sit back up. The room swam around her, but she focused on his face.

"I know," she husked, voice raw and pained. "Don't.... don't let me sleep, Walk. I think I have.... a.... " she couldn't think of the word and that scared her.

"Help me up- to the couch. I.... I'm glad you're here..... really, really glad."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

"Hey, don't-" But she already - barely - managed to pull herself up again. A frustrated noise escaped his lips, but he helped her anyway, before nodding in concern.

What did she have?

Something that made it dangerous for her sleep- a concussion. Feth. "Concussion, Del. Okay, let me..." He frowned and slowly wrapped his arms around her, hooking his arm under her knees and shoulders, letting her weakly wrap hers around his neck, if she was able to. It was difficult, but piece by piece he managed to slowly lower her onto the couch.

He pushed the cushions up, making her as comfortable as possible before snatching up the medic kit.

Then Walker just stared at her.

Where would he even start with this? He didn't need a medic kit for this, they needed a whole gorram hospital room. "Hey, stay with me here." He suddenly said once he noticed her trying to close her eyes again.

Alright, first thing's first... assess the damage.

"Going to undress you- not as sexy as we usually do," Weak chuckle in between, trying to make light of the situation. "-need to see what I am working with here."

 

[Delilah Keyes]

She opened her eyes (only part way, the swelling enough to leave them slits).

"Not- as bad.... as it looks," she muttered.

Which was true. It was pretty bad. But it looked even worse.

Between the two of them, they managed it, but it was difficult and she bit back cries of pain more than once, not even trying to hide it from her face. Blaster burn across the top of her shoulder was the least worry- cauterized by the heat of the blast and shallow. The cut along her bicep would need stitches, but at least the bleeding had slowed- until they peeled off the shirt, Del hissing, abandoning all clotting that had been so hard won. The bruising at the center of her chest, blossoming out in all directions was alarming, fire flashing through her every time she drew a breath, but that would heal on its own, given time and rest.

Something with a weird consistency squished in her jacket pocket when he dropped it on the floor.

Of the things not visible at first, the knee was the worst. He'd partially dislocated it with that kick, and she'd kept fighting on it- it had tried to reposition itself at some point, but it was clear that instead of being properly cushioned as it should, part of her knee cap ground against bone every time she moved it. It would need to be forced back into place- and with the current level of swelling, that would be painful beyond imagining.

In truth, the things he could see were the worst. Her face, broken nose, broken cheek bone, cuts that would need attention. Her hand, black and blue, small bones broken and swollen- she'd kept fighting with that too, and it showed for someone who knew what to look for.

She suspected he did.

"See," she said, trying to force a laugh that only turned into a grimace. The look on his face- she closed her eyes.

"Could have been worse. You-you should see the other guy."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

The squishing was the least of his concerns.

Only something sounding like a grenade would have been able to snatch his attention from Delilah and what she was going through. There was an experience behind the way his fingers moved across her flesh, carefully squeezing here and there, testing, it was almost as if this wasn't the first time he had done this sort of thing.

Who could know except Walker himself?

Neither of them talked much about their lives before they met each other after all. "Going to save the stitches for last, couple of things I am gonna have to do... will hurt," he eyes her knee specifically and then her hand. "A lot." Walk added after a moment of thought.

His glance softened at her attempt at a joke.

Carefully, very carefully he leaned down and gently brushed her lips with his. The fact that it got some of her blood on him didn't matter. "I am sure he had to roll home in a wheel chair."

"I worry- anaesthesia would be good, but together with the concussion.. can you handle it without?"

She deserved to be given the choice.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

"Yeah, no reason ta... have me tearin' new stitches out cause... I'm screamin' in pain," she managed to pant out.

Occasionally, on rare occasions when she was incredibly tired or stressed, sometimes her accent slipped. Just a word or two that Walk would recognize as the twang of home, before it was gone again. She'd worked hard to erase any traces of Mandalore from her speech, preferring the warm, neutral accent that most people never could quiet place but offered nothing objectionable.

Now?

Her voice was thick with it. It was still *her* voice- but the scrubbing of her accent couldn't hold up and she didn't even try.

She shifted, wincing, before nodding at him.

"Gonna be what it's gonna be," she grimaced. "Just- get the belt outta my pants."

She needed something to bite down on.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]