Private Greetings from Theed

[Iayn Dystraay]

That's what the postcard read:

Greetings from Theed!

Well, the Theed spaceport at present. Iayn had yet to step foot beyond its confines, but she had good reason to have not gotten to that part quite yet, for she knew that when she stepped foot into the picturesque ambience of Naboo's capitol city any intention she had to write home to Malcoma Hesse would get lost in the ancient, winding alleyways or else distracted by the wafting scent of fresh baking. And one ought treat their mother better than that, so, after fetching her bag and passing through Mid Rim Customs, the young woman spent some time browsing through post-security shops for the least generic postcard that she could find. Eventually, she found one, bought it, then took it over to a nearby café to write down a few words to the tune of, "Here I am, safe and sound!", "I'll send you some Naboo chocolate", and, finally, "Love you aboundingly, Iayn".

When finished, she tucked the postcard safely in the front zip pocket of her suitcase, willing herself to at least find a stamp and a post office later, and with that walked towards the nearest exit into the city.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren


It would be an hour or two before he was due to be at the family estate, or rather what was left of it. In the mean time, Brandyn wandered the streets of his hometown glancing over the work that had been done to rebuild city since the mass destruction of the cataclysm. He felt bad for not being back yet, and further he felt bad for not taking this time to see people he had left behind when he had run away. He had been reunited with his family. But there was more that he left that fateful day than just his family.

He pushed thoughts of impossible reconnection aside. Instead, he took time to take in the local produce. Naboo was thriving again. And the nostalgia was performing at peak efficiency. The scent of fresh cut meiloorun filled the air. He smiled as he accepted the proffered sample slice. It tasted like endless summers in Lake Country and reminded him of one of the few times he had managed to get even with Briana when they were young.

Around the corner was a row of traditional bakeries. There wears seemed to tumble out of the open windows. The aroma was a lure pulling the senses in fifteen different directions. This part of Theed was all to familiar. He grimaced, remembering the day he stalked a young woman that he believed to be a Sith. The whole affair had devolved into a battle employing large loaves of crusty bread as weapons. It wasn't his finest hour. Though he did feel a sense of vindication seeing that the woman had recently reappeared in his life as a super evil Sith demon, or something, and tried to eat him!

"Hey, it's breadstick boy!" Came a voice from inside one of the bakeries, "a little bit older and wiser, huh!" The belly laugh that followed was contagious. Brandyn couldn't help but join in with a shake of the head and a chuckle.

"This time you pay before you attack pretty girl with my bread, huh?"

"Rest assured, there will be no sequel today, my friend," Brandyn said, leaning his head in the window, "but if you see any pretty girls...you let me know, I've moved on to pasta battles."

The man laughed. "This is Naboo, breadstick boy! Beauty is in our genes!"

Again, the younger man just offered an amused shake of the head before heading off on down the street.

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

The sun was immediately overwhelming, but that implied less about its brightness than about how long Iayn had been deprived of non-florescent lighting. Her freighter transport all the way from Coruscant had been a tomb. Such strangling privacy was an unfortunate necessity of being a former slave. If the wrong person caught your eye and recognized you, well, then being one of the many wards of an iconic figure in the mob couldn't save you out here, this far from the Core.

It was either that or travel with Damris.

She loved the bodyguard as much as the other girls, like a protective older brother, but she couldn't very well fly out of the nest with clipped wings.

After carrying her suitcase easily down the spaceport stairs, she set in back onto its wheels. She checked her chronometer. Check-in at the hotel that Malcoma had booked her wasn't for another few hours; the serendipity was lost on Iayn, but what was not was her appetite. Though her stomach was reasonably full of spaceport snacks, the sides of her temples were beginning to ache with a need for some real nutrition.

How did she use to live on spacer food? And not just survive, but fight almost every day, on it?

Oh, that's right. Constant influxes of adrenaline had been off her daily menu for a few years now.

She followed some of the same scents that had recently called to Brandyn. As she rounded a scaffolded corner, she looked back down from admiring the opposite rooftops and there he was down the way. Fear ground her to a halt on the cobblestone alleyway. Kark! she exclaimed mentally. Malcoma trained her girls to never forget a face that passed through Eden's Club for their own safety. See the aforementioned warning of being recognized by the wrong person—say, a bounty hunter who had for some reason never lost your scent or, gods forbid, your former owner.

Death on sight would be the greatest mercy possible in that situation.

Iayn regained her senses enough to duck under the shadow of the nearby scaffolding.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Iayn Dystraay


Beautiful days had a way of bringing out the life and vigor of a man. There was so much Brandyn longed to see and do, but this was such a short trip to Naboo. Long enough to see the city for a few hours, see the ruins of his childhood home and meet with the Jedi attaché. There was another truth about beautiful days that Brandyn had learned, there was always something to ruin them.

Having picked up a small cheese crusted scone from a bakery a little further down the way, Brandyn instinctively hid it behind his back when he felt a sharp spike of fear in the Force from nearby. A scone was far from an efficient weapon should this be the setting for a second round of bread wars, but at least he would have the element of surprise.

No. It's not that you numbskull.

Green eyes flicked back and forth to try and gain a fix on the source of the sudden, now dissipating moment of fear. It seemed like it was directed at him? Perhaps he was just too jumpy after months of being undercover.

The fading fear might have been due to having cover? Being somewhere safe? The emotion had not subsided entirely, and yes, it was directed toward him.

Trying to keep it casual, Brandyn wandered about the general area, keeping his senses open in a Forced based game of 'cold and hot'. The further he went away from certain points, the dimmer the emotion became. The closer he got to other spots the more the emotion rose.

Finally, he rested his back against some scaffolding. The painters were working above, adding the finishing touches to a cheese vendors shop.

"Well that was fun," he said to no one he could see, but someone he could not, "what game do you want to play next?"

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Though unable to completely quell the signature of her fear, Iayn managed to find its reins. She took to deeply breathing as Brandyn searched to and fro. When he leaned up against her hiding space, she unclenched a fist at her side. From it flowed twin tendrils of green energy that fell to the ground and slithered under her sneakers. She then took a few, completely muffled steps towards the unaware duke's back.

One more, shaky breath.

As close as her mouth was to his ear, he probably heard it, but had no time to react until a whisper followed.

"what game do you want to play next?"

"...tag."

A green body burst forth from Iayn's, running left as she slipped off the the right, her own steps still magically silent. Once out in the sunlight, her double gained true color, and continued to bolt away down the narrow street.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Iayn Dystraay


A cold chill ran down Brandyn's spine as his senses ignited. He had been far to cavalier in his approach to someone showing fear, and now they were behind him. His synapses fired off quick surveys as to his situation, the closeness of his saber to his hand and the time it would take to react before he died.

"...tag."

The voice made him jump forward, and wince as he expected a sharp stabbing pain in his back. His scone, still in hand, collided with his saber hilt as he made a clumsy attempt to get his weapon while also holding baked goods. Half of the scone broke off, taking the crusty melted cheese with it.

"Awww. C'mon!" He called out as he spun around. The cheese was totally the best part.

He caught movement out of his periphery. A woman running away to his right. Without really thinking it through and, if he were being honest, with a fair amount of spite over his broken lunch, Brandyn hurled the remaining chunk of scone at the woman as she ran.

Instead of impacting with her head as intended, the chunk of scone disappeared in a green poof. His confusion over the moment was soon mixed with a feeling of nostalgic dread as a young Nabooian woman stood on the other side of the fake tag participant. The young blonde woman had crumbs of scone strewn across her face and a look of share horror at the ignominy of it all. Flashbacks of his encounter with Ishani Dinn were so real as to be tangible.

But there was more here to be accomplished than another pastry victory. He glanced to his left, just in time to see a familiar dark haired woman disappear from view. Brandyn set off in pursuit, pushing his legs through the Force with the hopes of gaining on her.

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

And gain on her he did as she sped down the widening street.

She stood no chance of outrunning him, for she did not use the Force in the same ways he did. She knew it too, so she began looking around frantically for a way to outsmart him instead. An alternate route? A parkour platform? Somewhere to hide?

Ah-hah!

As she passed by a wooden cart full of cloths meant for offloading into a nearby tailor's shop, she grabbed a flowy silk from the top and flung it behind her as a very, very makeshift himation. "Sorry!" she called to the yet unseen merchant.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Iayn Dystraay


Heart pounding with the thrill of the chase, Brandyn caught sight of the theft that took place. Frustratingly, said theft was such a common piece of cloth that he feared she might quickly blend into the crowd.

And blend in she did.

With barely a blink, it felt like Brandyn already had a bead on four women with similarly coloured coverings. And dark hair? Well, that was a Nabooian staple. The chase had become a shell game.

To the closest woman he went, spinning her about. Her expression showed surprise, then outrage. It wasn't her. He moved off with a sorry and barely avoided her slap. It was mid dodge that he realized he didn't even know what his prey looked like beyond the back of her head, and her attire.

On to the second woman, now a few meters away from him than he when he had first spied her. She had turned about to see what the fuss was all about. Her expression said that the young man running towards her was most unappreciated. Brandyn slid to a stop, avoiding yet another strike across his cheek but this time only by a whisker.

Looking to and fro, Brandyn sought someone with the same cloth type that had not turned back to see what all the commotion was about.

"There you are."

Moments later, his hand on her shoulder, he tugged at her in an attempt to turn her about.

"What's going on here?" He said, "ah...and your it...I guess?"

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

She didn't look amused either, but didn't move to strike him. Instead, all of her defiance was written across her face. When she spoke, her voice was strangely hushed; though, as close as they were, he would be able to hear perfectly well.

"You can take me, you can re-enslave me, you can kill me if you want to, but if you do Malcoma Hesse and Damris Inkari will never stop looking for you, you..."

Up until this point, she had been rather intimidating.

"...you...bastard."

Said with all the conviction of a young woman who had probably not cursed aloud before—that was, very little.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Iayn Dystraay


Sometimes self-defense was impossible. Her words, though quiet, were not at all barbless. He lifted his hands in an attempt to ward off her words.

"Slow your speeder there, lady," he said, eyes as wide as a Mynock's creepy mouth-hole thing.

He did not recognize her. And he was pretty confident he would, outside of a time and place that may have been particularly stressful. To be fair, he wouldn't recognize a lot of people for that reason.

Then the insult.

"Bastard?" He mouthed in silent pain.. His hurt feelings were clearly visible. That was certainly a first.

"Look here you..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence as intended.

"...very...strangely...mistaken woman...there will be no enslavement...no killing...not on my part...not today...and call off Daris Inkoori and Macolma....Hess...wait?"

It dawned on him, finally. That name was familiar. The proprietor of an establishment he had once had to enter while undercover as the criminal, 'The Thespian'.

His eyes narrowed. Surely, if she recognized him, and if she had heard him speak or seen his garish outfit back then, she might have caught on to the fact that it was a cover. Or perhaps she thought that his appearance and accent now was the cover?

"You were...at Eden's?" He said, flushing red as he recalled one of he most awkward moments in his short life.

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

As if stealing wasn't enough, now she felt even worse. She flushed as well under her shroud. "Yes, I was one of the waitresses..." she said meekly. There was no doubt, she remembered his face sticking to the shadows back then, but...why was he acting so confused?

Maybe he had an identical twin like her?

No, not with his recollection of at least Malcoma's name. Sorry, Damris.

She eased herself out onto a metaphorical branch. "The headmistress, she makes a good deal of enemies. And none of them like us, her...workers. I thought you were one."

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren


Brandyn could sense that they would soon be interrupted by well meaning bystanders seeking to rescue this woman from being accosted by a maniac. He realized that it was likely he that was the supposed maniac.

"Oh, I wasn't there for business...I mean pleasure," he said, answering an unasked question as if it was the only thing he sought to clear up, "I mean I was there for business...but not that sort of business. You were a waitress?"

He glanced about, gauging how much time he had before he had to make an exit.

"I am not one of them. I mean, not one of her enemies," he said, stammering uncomfortably with the subject at hand, "I'm not a worker either...though. I'm not doing this too well am I?"

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn looked down while tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She supposed it wouldn't do any good to tell this perhaps-probably-not-dangerous man that, when she said waitress, she meant waitress. No code.

"So," she began, finally raising her eyes with a tilted head, ignoring his question to boot. She did, however, pick up on the same feeling he was getting and, deciding she didn't need good Samarians right now of all times, stepped a bit closer and put her hand gently on her back of his. "Who are you then?"

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren


Brandyn flinched, but noted the wisdom in appearing cozy with the woman he might have otherwise been accused of harassing. He wasn't unfamiliar with the needs of faking affection, no matter how small it may be. A gentle hand on his might be all needed to avoid getting socked in he face. Provided, she played along.

"I am afraid...that I cannot tell you that," he said, running the calculations on full honesty and finding no solution that equaled successfully navigating the moment. His cover could simply not be blown. Not when The Thespian had already proven as useful a persona as it had. However, his admission of not being able to answer her question was a failure on his behalf. Would he be truly doing his job well, he would have become The Thespian now, and merged the lie into this moment as well. He did not.

"This punk bothering you, miss?" Came a gruff voice from behind Brandyn. He just knew that voice had a big punch connected to it.

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn bit her lip now. She eased herself onto a metaphorical, verbal branch. "My name's Iayn..."

She was ready to say more before a booming voice changed her tune. "Nonono," she slurred, the anxiety that had been easing wiping back. "I-I-" Tears began welling in her eyes. "I was get so confused, you see, that sometimes I wander off. When I'm like that, I'm not my-myself. I need to be shaken out of it. Reminded where I am. Who I am." Nudging her way around The Thespian, Iayn stood before the larger man. "I'm very sorry for the trouble caused." She glanced over at Brandyn. "I didn't mean to worry my friend," and back again, "or you, good sir."

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Location: Theed, Farmer's Market
Tag: Iayn Dystraay


Unintentionally, Brandyn glanced briefly at the gently bitten lip. She was at least playing nervous, and it was disarming as all cark. "Iayn," he said, as if rehearsing the name for his own ears, "well, I guess now it is a pleasure to meet you, Iayn."

His words were somewhat spoken over though, as she went on to play her part to perfection. The intrigue only deepened upon seeing her ease with slipping into improvised cover stories. Brandyn simply nodded sagely, concern etched across his face. "Please apologize to the ladies I startled, sir. Just. You see. My friend here was left in my care...and I only looked away for but a moment," he said before placing a casually hand on her shoulder, "thank Shiraya I found her. She just...hasn't been the same...since the...accident."

"Ah. I'm sorry to hear that, miss," said the burly man, "that does sounds mighty awful. You take care of her, young man. And don't go scaring my customers again."

His last sentence was said a little louder and with a determined point of his finger. It seemed he needed to save face with those that had sent him to do their bidding. The large enforcer of a man trundled back towards a group of grinning, chatty shoppers. They seemed very pleased with his handling of the situation.

"Thanks for the save," said Brandyn.

​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn smiled and nodded.

"Of course, my friend." Her voice was even and easy once again, even a bit teasing now. "But we're not in the clear yet. You'd better walk me to my hotel." She reached reflexively to her side, but didn't find the handle of her bag.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn felt a little heat rise in his cheeks. She was teasing him. Effortlessly charming. And it annoyed him to no end. "Well...if you insist," he said, feigning disinterest with a shrug of his shoulders.

He noted that she was reaching for something. At first he thought she was reaching for his hand, but he quickly chastised himself. "You...lost something?"

| Iayn Dystraay |​

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

"My suitcase," she did her best not to exclaim and call the bouncer back over. "Oh no, I hope it's still under that scaffold..."

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"Well...come on then," he said, heading off in the direction that they had come from, "I can't rightly walk you to your accommodation without having picked up your luggage first."

As he pushed through the crowds of people, a few women cast him scurrilous glances. He waved with a subtle gesture of his fingers, all of them, not just one, and continued on.

| Iayn Dystraay |​