Family Is More Than Blood

[Keira Priest]

Unspecified planet​

Outskirts of Mandalorian space​

​

Her limp had been acting up lately. Usually it was nothing more than a minor annoyance, a slight hindrance that didn't tend to raise much issue in everyday life. Not too long ago, however, it had flared up as permanent injuries tended to do every once in awhile, once again reminding her that she wasn't as young as she used to be. Thirty-one wasn't exactly old, per se, but after fighting for over a decade Keira certainly wasn't the same as she had been, constantly itching for another battle. Now she knew her limits far too well, and while she wouldn't avoid a fight by any means, she wasn't quite so keen to rush headfirst into things without some idea of what awaited her.

Lately she had seen far too many battlefields for her liking, been transported to too many warzones in a short period of time. Recompense was few and far between, especially in an aging soldier's life, as they knew what they were doing far better than those greenhorns and were therefore something of a valuable resource. But it was that recompense she sought out now, in the form of nothing more or less simple than what could be considered a day off. She had settled for a planet on the fringes of Mandalorian space. Friendly territory, but far out enough that she could remain mostly by herself for the day if she so chose. After being among others for so long one tended to forget how to listen to their own thoughts, and she hoped to relearn that.

The only point of interest this place seemed to hold for her were the fighting bouts that had since then finished, to her knowledge. They weren't something she had attended personally, for want of her own self-created peace, but she had begun to make her way in that general direction, progress slowed due to her limp. However, she wasn't in any hurry, content to go about things at an easygoing pace for once in her life and take in all there was to see. Maybe she was getting a touch too sentimental as she got older, or maybe time had simply taught her that moments like this were fleeting, and it was best to enjoy them while she could. Her thumb tabbed across the worn and faded sabacc card tucked into the inside pocket of her leather jacket, and she decided it was the latter.

Her progress drew to a stop when she reached where the fighters were shambling out of what had been designated as some kind of arena, and she only observed as they meandered by in an irregular and stunted trickle. All of them appeared to her young and overeager, looking to prove themselves to anyone who would listen, while others of the same age were far more calculated, akin to more refined warriors. It was a mix of Mandalorians and outsiders, a number of cultures blending seamlessly as one, what seemed to be hundreds of different languages muddling in the air. Yes, this was what the vibrancy of youth looked like. And she had never felt quite so old.

[member="Drin"]

 

[Qamaria Nasha]

A grunt was torn from the lips of Akkest as the whip tore across the already scarred skin of his chest. Dressed as he was in a pair of black leather trousers and leather boots with no other clothing covering his pale skin, the entirety of the Caprine's bare chest was open to the stale, blood scented and sweat stained air that sat across the width of the sand covered arena, providing no defense against the harsh length of the whip as it bit across his right pectoral. Where the bite of the whip bit a thin line of blood bubbled up, causing lines of the red liquid to drip down his chest, staining his chest as it went.

Leaping backwards, so as to put himself out of the range of the weapon and to escape further injury, Akkest took stock of the situation, both environmental and personal. Around him, above his heads, the roar and screaming of the crowd rose into a rapturous crescendo before dropping in volume and repeating in an endless cycle of noise as the gathered group of beings, male and female, young and old, too enjoyment from the sight of two fighters beating the kark out of one another. The sand that layered the entirety of the ring that Akkest fought within was stained by puddles of dried blood, remnants of the previous fights. Above his head, harsh lights shone down unrelenting, threatening to blind the Caprine should he risk looking skyward and casting long reaching shadows across the uneven ground.

Akkest looked similar in appearance to the arena he fought in, battered and bruises and looking overall worst for wear. Blood from numerous welts covered his skin and bruises of a varying sizes and colours littered his body. His long, ashen white hair which was usually pulled backwards and carefully tended to in some form of pride, hung in front of his face, knotted and scruffy in a large mess, wrapping around his usually finely polished horns which now had been covered in a fine film of dirt. One of his light purple iris was hidden from view as a large cut across his brow forced Akkest to keep his eye closed unless he wished to have his vision obscured by a haze of blood.

Grunting again, Akkest sprinted forwards, his boots pounding against the sand and kicking up a small cloud of dust around his feet as he charged towards his opponent, seeking to end the fight there and then before he was injured even more. Raising his left forearm, Akkest flinched as the whip wrapped around and dug into his flesh, but pushed it aside as he gripped the length of leather in a strong fist, robbing his foe of his weapon. Continuing his charge, closing the short distance between the two combatants with only a few lengthy strides, Akkest reared his right arm back before swinging it forwards, driving the blunted head of his axe into the metal plate that covered his opponent's torso. Again and again, metal met metal to the jubilant cries of the crowd as Akkest subdued his opponent and claimed his victory.

After the fight, shuffling out within the crowds, his hair and horns returned to their finely cared state, a sight that was opposite to the scruffy appearance that he continued to hold, Akkest towered over the majority of the fighters with his six foot, eight inch plus frame. Whereas the gathered group around his chattered away in an array of languages, many of which Akkest held no familiarity with, Akkest was silent, his face stoic and expressionless, as he walked at the side of the crowd, separating himself from the loud masses.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

There was no real reason for her to notice him other than the fact that he was at least a head taller than most of the other sentients, but even that wasn't too remarkable, given the sheer number of individuals currently making their way in the thronging crowd. By all accounts he was no one special, and Keira just about regarded him as such. However, fate, or some version of it, had other plans. A spark of the ethereal radiated within her subconscious, one that was familiar in the sense that it communicated an overarching importance. And above all else, she wanted to ignore it. It wasn't her job to listen to what the Force told her. That was a task better suited for the Jedi. But at the same time, she knew things wouldn't cease until she made good on them, and so conceded.

Still, she wouldn't approach right away. She wasn't here to make a spectacle of herself, or even spark a conversation, and this likely wouldn't lead to any sort of talk unless he instigated one. For now she would just test the waters, see if the one she was watching out for was even worth the sentiment in the first place. The small part of her that still retained its former cynical attitude was inclined to think not, but she had learned the hard way to trust her instincts above all else. And, whether she liked it or not, this was a part of that. She never seemed to be able to manage even one day of having no responsibility. There was certainly someone in the galaxy that didn't want her to have any kind of peace.

With a measured pace and a still apparent limp she moved forward to merge with the fringes of the crowd, ignoring whatever second glances she may have received and focusing on doing what she could to reduce the residual pain in her leg. Even up close there was nothing she could detect that was overly spectacular about him, though she was able to appreciate the reserved manner in which he held himself compared to the arrogant boisterousness of those others about. He knew what restraint meant, which was a quality she could always, for the most part, find some kind of value in. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye, after all. But there was still the business of going about getting his attention.

Being herself, she wouldn't do anything particularly overt. A medium within the ethereal would do, given that she had detected his sensitivity as well. And so, without any indication of her being responsible, she released a pulse of that same beacon of importance through the Force. His move.

[member="Akkest Yiun"]

 

[Qamaria Nasha]

It was only out of the corner of his eye that he caught sight of her, but it was enough to momentarily rivet his attention. The sudden capture of his attention was not routed in physical attraction or suspicion or a variety of other factors that many would state, but an action born from nothingness that puzzled the Caprine. No overt action or risen voice drew his sight, no display of any sort, indeed, the woman was keeping to herself, almost blending into the background through sheer force of will. Even so, a spark of some sort drew his gaze and interest fixed it to her. It was a natural and instinctive response to settling his eyes on a woman that held herself to powerfully, even if she did so reservedly, a true warrior, that held his gaze upon her even after the time had passed within which he should have averted his gaze, fixing his eyes forwards instead of sideways. And yet, every movement the woman made, even with the limp that grasp her form, held an air of authority and experience, no energy was wasted on useless movement, every action carefully calculated by a brain with such experience in doings so, that the instinct to do so had long since retreated into the subconscious mind. The fact that the woman portrayed the air of a seasoned veteran to combat was what drew his attention.

However, even the faint stirring of respect that Akkest could feel within his chest, as was natural for him when confronted with someone with more experience, more skill in the art of fighting, was not enough to hold his attention infinitely. The moment became finite quickly and shortly and the disinterest that constantly consumed his reality since he crested into his teenage years returned to settle around his shoulders like a miasma, snuffing out the one spark of feeling that the Nur felt, the admiration to the woman he had caught sight of in the corner of his eye, and returning his existence to the grey world that it usually was when outside of combat, when his blood stopped pounding.

Pushing his way past a pair of beings, one Human the other Twi'lek, who had thought it wise or smart to dissolve into blows in the midst of a crowd of others, fists flying wildly in a display of passion induced rage and not calm precision, Akkest deftly slip around one wildly thrown blow that had threatened to impact directly with his sternum. Glaring icily at the pair, his cold, pale eyes helping express disdain over anger, Akkest scoffed lowly under his breathe before spinning on his heel and continuing on, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh returning as the pair threw themselves back into their fight. However, he had barley taken three long strides when he was brought up short, stopping in place as his spine straightened, raising himself to his full height, while he swiveled his gaze around.

Something had brushed against his awareness. A whisper lost on the wind that was somehow audible, a feint touch against his skin that existed for only a second and left a burning brand behind. Something, and Akkest was loathed to admit that he could not explain what that something was beyond giving it the label 'something', had caught his attention, manifested into existence for only a brief few moments before consuming itself, erasing itself from reality and retreating into an abyss. 'Something' becoming 'nothing'.

Raking his gaze across the heads of the crowds that continued to surge around him, Akkest a lone rock in the middle of a roaring river, before turning his sight forwards once more, focused on arriving at the run down apartment he was renting emerging once more. However, his accelerated pace, furrowed brown and flickering, wary eyes betrayed the aura of calmness he was attempting to express, shattering the illusion and revealing to any with a keen eye that whatever it was that had brought him to a stop had unsettled and unnerved the normally stoic Caprine.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

By his prolonged gaze Keira knew he had noticed her, and for the moment that was enough. For the next few moments she paid him no prolonged attention, focusing only on furthering her progress in the crowd, largely paying the others about her no mind. This man wasn't priority yet, still maintaining his status as nothing more than a target of interest, but she let her path stray enough to tail him absently. Far from direct enough to be immediately or blatantly obvious, but well enough that she could glimpse at him every few seconds, not that such a thing was difficult to accomplish given his stature. Whether fortunately or not, there was something about this one that the nagging in her subconscious wouldn't let go.

Before she could dwell too much on this particular train of thought she happened upon the two that had begun a makeshift brawl in the middle of the street, and without another word took it upon herself to disable them both. The Human was knocked unconscious with a well-placed punch to the jaw with her organic arm, and in the next second the Twi'lek seemed to realize they weren't quite fighting the same opponent. When a punch was thrown she gripped the forearm and twisted it behind the near-Human's back, delivering a kick to the back of the knee that caused them to fall to their knees, leaning down to offer her own suggestion, "I'd beat it, if I were you. Best not to cause any more trouble." And with that the Twi'lek was released, and she continued on her way.

Within the next second a string of acknowledgement was plucked, its resonance thrumming in the back of her mind, and it was clear he had sensed her impromptu notice. Now perhaps was the time to make more direct contact. And so she honed in on his aura within the Force, her stride taking on a distinctly more militaristic clip, a habit from time spent serving in the Republic. Soon enough he was within sight, and she slowed just slightly, eventually matching him nearly step for step, not speaking for a few seconds. When she did there were no initial introductions made. "So, you felt it." Dark eyes flicked upwards to meet pale irises. "Keira."

[member="Akkest Yiun"]