Guess We're in This Boat Together?

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka was far from understanding the Confederacy, she felt like a cog in a rolling machine. And that was something she wasn't used to and wasn't quite sure she could say she enjoyed, but such was life she presumed. Not always going to be the champion or exotic bounty hunter wherever she went. This was a Galactic power, and superpower even. Though it wasn't like she paid particularly close attention to Galactic politics.

But, her travels weren't taking her to anywhere special or crazy. It was off to some floating rock called Haseria in the city Durango to meet with a Mandalorian Protector. That too was a group she didn't understand but still had "sworn" allegiance to it. To whatever form or degree, being a Bounty Hunter wasn't really the most exciting thing anymore and was living under the presumption being some form of Mandalorian could add some excitement into her long life. 300 (or so) years left till she dropped dead as an old woman, and that was a long gap to fill up.

She eventually arrived into the city, clad in full armor it was too easy for her to pull the eye. Especially with the massive blade she kept on her back, more than wicked enough in design to leave a little bubble around her. Of course, her bulky and maybe even demonic armor kept people away too. First rules of survival with the Underworld: don't trust the big ones. Making her way along she came to a bar called the "Sierra Blanca", foreign enough for her. Didn't bother making some attempt to pronounce it.

Stepping inside, she was quick to pull herself a seat at the bar. Or make one if the need proved apparent, thankfully it didn't; there was nothing good that comes out of making a violent and poor first impression. Taking off her helmet the Sephi let her face breath, adding more to the raw oddity of the woman. Sephi always had some form of art on them, and it seemed she had chosen her face to be another recipient of that stereotype. Eyes of icy blue scanned the crowd, and just what she might have had at her disposal. In the hopeful event she wouldn't have to spend credits through the roof.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy sang slowly with the song that played overhead as she wiped down the bar top with a clean towel. It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with it, or even a spec of dirt, but it had become a loving old habit. She loved the Sierra Blanca for its slow weekday nights and the booming weekend brawls. It had character and the best drinks this side of Haseria. “You’re a heart-breakin’ soul shaker an’ ah been told about you—Ah’ve seen you on the midnight show a-what they been sayin’ must be true.”

“Spicy space mama—there’ll be trouble. Ah say time’s goin’ to pay your dues.”

It was an oldie but a goodie. She often worked as a bartender at the saloon when she wasn’t away on some sort of mission or helping [member="Betty Americus"] in the clinic. It was relaxing. The scent of day old booze, sweat, perfume, weapon oil, and the lemony cleaning solution they tried to hide it all with was almost comforting. It wasn’t home, not by a long shop, but it was nice all the same.

“Talkin’ jive and poison ivy. You aren’t going to cling to me—“, Daisy stopped, mid-sentence, when two brutes stood up from one of the tables and began to slug it out. “Hey!”

She darted around the bar, versus going over like Nate, the owner, did on occasion. The golden-haired human was wearing a red button up that tied sweetly in the front and a pair of fitting denims that tucked into slightly heeled nerf-herding boots. The music drowned out most of the cheers that started but most of the patrons had already started placing bets. “Boys! Knock it off or take it outside!”

They didn’t seem to hear her right away and it wasn’t until she reached out and grabbed an armored shoulder that the much larger, much taller, customer rounded on her. Daisy wasn’t teeny tiny or stick thin. She was solid, well-toned, and the eldest daughter of [member="Jo Americus"]. She knew her way around the barrel of a disruptor just as well as she knew how to handle a drunk Mandalorian twice her size. He raised his fist, as if to deck her, but paused when he realized who it was. The anger drained from his face like a drain that had been suddenly unplugged.

“Ah said take it outside.”

The two men glared at each other but for the most part seemed to calm down. It was a relative term. They weren’t happy, they didn’t like it, but there was no way they were going over her head. Durango was too small to piss off the only bartender that could serve decent ne’tra gal. Black ale just didn’t exist anywhere else. At least, not yet.

“We’re all friends here. Narir va wer'cuy, vod. [Don’t forget it, comrade.]”

“Ni ceta. [Sorry.]”, the taller man ground out sheepishly, before, turning around to head back to the bar. Apparently, they wouldn’t be continuing the fist fight. At least, not yet. Daisy had been around the block long enough that they’d probably be at it again just as soon as they had a few more pints of the good stuff. Regardless, the blonde beauty let it go. Boys would be boys, and sometimes, they needed to hit each other in the face to get their point across. It was just the way things were.

Turning around she laid eyes to someone she hadn’t seen round these parts before. A black-haired woman with decidedly pointy ears. The newcomer had a whole lotta armor on and a whole lotta weapons but to be honest most of the customers did the same. Trying to peel a slugthrower away from a Mandalorian was like trying to unstick a maglock with a crowbar. Good luck. The first difference she could see was the shape of the armor. It was wicked. When she spoke to the patron her backwater accent, though sweet like honey, was obviously thicker than a day old bowl full of oatmeal. “Welcome to the Sierra Blanca. Ah’m Daisy, your bartender for the evenin'.”

“Can ah get you somethin' to drink? You can sit anywhere that suits your fancy.”

[member="Lirka Ka"]

 

[Kylo Kyr'am]

Deleted

 

[Lirka Ka]

[member="Daisy Americus"]

Lirka examined the whole place, it had a spunk to it. She could give it that much, but it was an unfamiliar environment for her one way or another. Surrounded by men she presumed she actually was affiliated with now: Mandalorians. Lirka knew about that warrior culture, had even fought a few during her long career. Of course, she also knew Mandalorians had taken over her homeworld. To what degree? She had not the slightest idea.

The short brawl grabbed her attention, and was half shocked (though, not visibly) that it was actually broken up, was a long way from Nar Shadda or Anzat. Adding more to the alien feeling she got from this whole place. Strange, just strange.

Though her eyes eventually fell on Daisy herself, a quick flick up and down to assess the girl. Well. The child. Seemed like everyone here was just a child to her, guess that is what happens when you reach the ripe age for a Sephi.

“Have Commerian Brandy?”

She could guess it wasn’t the most popular thing around these parts. But, normality would be a comfort here. The Sephi’s voice was heavily accented, speaking quickly to her proper birth on Thustra itself and if one was cultured enough: her royal upbringing, now nothing more than a distant memory.

She sensed something else, of course: The blonde’s Force Sensitivity. The Sephi’s own was a small little beacon of the Dark Side, those few abilities she had taught herself stemming into almost entirely combat-focused to create a deadly Dark Side Marauder. Not a lick of hidden away, everything bare to those who could see it. But she didn’t dwell on it, and was quick to speak again:

“You’re apart of the Protectors, yeah? Or is this whole place apart of it?

Would be a nice relief if she answered yes. Lirka needed to get herself wrapped around the group, sometimes making brash jumps into a new career path wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

 

[Daisy Americus]

There was a place for brawls to happen and it wasn’t in the middle of the Sierra Blanca. Some of the ladies that specialized in entertainment weren’t quite as sturdy as the armored fighters that walked through the door. They could get hurt. The owner, Nate, wouldn’t take kindly if that happened on her watch while he was takin’ a break. The two rough and tumble Mando-boys were lucky she hadn’t put either one in a headlock.

Daisy smiled, her expression full to the brim, with southern spacey charm. “We surely do. Just got a whole bunch of cases of Commerian Brandy on closeout. Our supplier brings us a little bit of everything but black ale is the most popular.”, the golden-haired woman responded, turning on her heel, to head back toward the bar. She expected the elfen creature to follow along and went about to pouring what was asked for. “Have a seat. Rest those bones. That armor looks a might heavy.”

Sometimes, looks could be deceiving, but Daisy wore enough armor to know that it generally wasn’t feather light. The female patron seemed to have quite the accent. Daisy was one to talk though, considering, most people thought she was dumber than a box of rocks every time she opened her mouth. For the most part, she let people think what they wanted. “Sorry for the ruckus too. They know better. We have a fightin’ ring outside if someone has a score to settle. They don’t need to be doing it in here.”

Whereas the Sephi may have sensed her association to the Force, Daisy, could not say the same. Her skill in the Force was extremely limited and generally only had value for combat application. She could jump higher on her own, hit harder, and move faster. Sometimes she could even move things with her mind. It was downright creepy.

Once the drink was poured Daisy wiped down the bar in front of her guest and then sat the drink down as requested. Blonde eyebrows perked up when the Mandalorian Protectors were mentioned. “Yes ma’am ah am. The Sierra Blanca caters to everyone but we get alotta Protectors and Rangers in here. Were you lookin’ for em?”

[member="Lirka Ka"]

 

[Lirka Ka]

"One of them."

Lirka set herself down, not bothering to correct her on just how light the armor felt on her figure. The force helped her not be truly weighed down by it's protective bulk as well as just a raw physical strength born of being apart of the Choah fighting rings for so long and her mercenary work, adding in all the other unsavory things she had done in her long life for a bit of flavor to make such a strong and potent killing machine. She paused for a brief moment after speaking.

"Well, somewhat. Barely actually had anything to do with them."

It was true, Lirka had few interactions with the Protectors. They had asked her to join and it seemed like an exciting enough notion to bite onto. Add a little extra spice into her life.

She laughed though, it was a cold thing on the concept of a "ruckus". That was nothing.

"Call that a ruckus? I fought in the Choah Belt for 20 years, that's where you see some ruckuses. Ever seen what a man does after losing his savings on a wrong bet?"

Another cold and half nostalgic laugh followed, the talk of their fighting pits bringing the memories right back.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy offered the Sephi a kind smile when she did indeed take a seat at the bar. The stools were high, as most were, but held wide cushioned seats to support all manner of species. The young woman leaned on the bar as she habitually wiped down the space. “What cha mean? If you’re lookin’ for some Protectors this is definitely the place to be. Sometimes, we’re loners, but we aren’t anti-social.”

It was true. Mandalorians could tend to be a little insular. Especially among certain Clans. Americus was one of the few where they greeted others with open arms and didn’t much care where someone came from. Being an Americus meant that you had a family. Always.

“I’ve seen some things—but we try to keep it clean here. Mostly.”

Sometimes gunfights happened. Sometimes, they had to send for her mother, Betty Americus, to make sure that neither one of the parties involved met the Manda too soon. The laugh of the warrior in front of her was different. It was cold, dry, and sometimes a little distant. It was a laugh of someone that had fought in one too many wars. Two decades was enough to make anyone a little rough around the edges.

“What should I call you partner?”

[SIZE=11pt]She’d already introduced herself, but, she hadn’t caught the other female’s name. Normally she wouldn’t bother customers with such involved pleasantries but since she’d asked about the Protectors it seemed pretty fair.[/SIZE]

[member="Lirka Ka"]

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka studied the woman still, she was more friendly than what she was used to. Lacked that edge so many people in the Underworld had, but this didn’t quite seem like the Underworld. More like one giant hangout for the T-heads. Or maybe it was, what did she know about this whole place?

“Means I helped them out once, joined in your merry little band, haven’t spoken to any of them since.”

A tinge of annoyance was in her voice, obviously she had expected something more out of being a Protector and she wasn’t quite getting it. The thrill seeker she was had no trouble adding onto it. The talk of keeping it clean gave her a half smile across her face, a rather small thing; Lirka’s eyes always radiated emotion, usually malice, those icy blue things now instead showed a genius amusement. She didn’t press the issue further though.

“Lirka.”

Lirka had never bothered changing her name, if someone knew she was the old Princess, good for them.


[member="Daisy Americus"]