Learning to live Again

[Varan Zarvenis]

"I did not want to be drunk in public! I wanted to be drunk in a bar! Which is perfectly legal... They THREW me into public. Arrest them." The words came in a slurred rage from the golden eyes man who pointed at the bouncers of the bar, as he swayed in front of the peace officer. Varan's travels so far had brought him to Mandalore where after his payment, he went to spend his newly found credits at the local bar. This was the way he lived his life. One job after another, followed by numerous drinks after another. Tonight featured a large amount of rum, enough to inebriate his natural zorren resistance, which would have easily knocked any human off their ass and then some. Maybe he'd had a bit much to drink, but it was better than freely thinking.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Kurs'taylir was not a forgiving place. The people here lived hard lives; they struggled to provide even the most basic necessities. The winters here were very harsh, and there was never a time of warmth in this region. Indeed, this entire continent tended to be completely covered in snowfall year round. Importing needed supplies was viable, but Calico, like his predecessors, chose to rely on the land. It hardened the people. There was nothing more honest than raising your own Uxi beasts, than stalking your prey for miles before delivering the beast to the Manda. The people who lived within the Tal'verda capital understood how much they needed struggle; it tempered blades that would otherwise be sharpened in the the crucible of war.

So when the hard working men and women of his clan were assailed by visiting drunks, Cal tended to be a bit displeased. Grumbling his displeasure, the older man pushed up from his seat in the back of the cantina and whistled. The bouncers turned their attentions from the intoxicated boy to their chieftain.

"Sir?" The closer man questioned.

"Leave him be." The man who had spoken seemed disheartened, but nodded. The duo stepped off toward the door. Cal took their place.

"You're disrupting my cantina pup. Come on upstairs. We're gonna talk." The older man jerked a calloused thumb toward the stairwell at their right. It was not a request.

[member="Varan Zarvenis"]

 

[Varan Zarvenis]

He turned over to the man, golden eyes hazed with the alcohol while the bouncers buzzed off. It was obvious that he was an important fellow, having so easily waved off the bouncers and officer. "Just great." He stood up a bit straighter, though he was smart enough to keep his hand away from his sword. He was a good fighter, but evn drunk, he wasn't stupid enough to fight a bunch of mandos on their turf. His eyes followed his hand while a small growl left his throat at the words. "Pup? Please, I've been fighting wars before your even grandfather was a distant thought in the night." Despite the words, he made an unsteady step towards the building, to head for the stairs."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

"I can promise you that you're wrong about that son." Cal grumbled as they made their way up the stairs. The second floor of the cantina was generally reserved for VIPs; meaning the town's leadership. There was no hall from which they ruled here - decisions were made in the welcoming enviroment of the local watering hole, as was often the case back in Keldabe as well.

Calico strolled up toward one of the two tables in the center of the room and pulled up a chair. He nodded toward the drunk, patted the top of the chair, and settled down in one across from it. "Sit down. I don't want you collapsing in Baird's cantina." The soldier leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "My name is Calico Tal'verda. I am the head of the clan that runs this outpost."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Who are you? What's your business in Kurs'taylir?"

[member="Varan Zarvenis"]

 

[Varan Zarvenis]

Varan's eyes narrowed as he took his seat, adjusting the sword at his hip. It was the one thing he kept of his old life, and thus something that he would never leave behind. "I am Varan Zarvenis, and I am Seven hundred years old, and not a pup." Maybe it was rude, but he couldn't help it. He was tipsy and grumpy. "I'm here because one of your people had a problem. I handled it and returned for my payment." The name meant little to him. He'd heard about the Tal'verda's in battle, but given the private nature of his life, it was something he didn't really pay attention to. Fighting on the large scale didn't really appeal to him any more.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

A hunter?

The Tal'verda usually didn't hire aruetiise for personal issues, though it was done from time to time. Usually for issues that were offworld and the clan itself could not be bothered with fixing. Cal guessed the boy - seven hundred years old he may be - was enjoying the fruits of his labor before leaving the planet. Nothing else made much sense, unless he was lying, which was a very real possibility.

"You act like one." The soldier stated bluntly. He had a very straightforward means of dealing with issues; it was quicker than beating around the bush and trying to make nice. He'd likely saved the man a black eye and a painful morning already. Didn't owe him anything else.

"This isn't the way you should be spending your profits. One of my people hired you, so I'm going to assume the job wasn't a cakewalk." Cal reached for a flask that hung from his belt and popped off the top. "A bit of drink is fine. Full on drunk? Son, you're on your own out here. It isn't smart."

[member="Varan Zarvenis"]

 

[Varan Zarvenis]

His eyes narrowed and despite still swaying, his tone became far more serious. "As if that's any different. I've been alone. Centuries, I've been alone. Lets see your precious people wiped from the face of the galaxy, then you can try to stay sober. How much I drink is my damned business." His hand gripped the stable for steadiness, claws digging into the wood. "As for the job, I've handled worse."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Centuries. Cal didn't have that.

He was a plain human, born and raised. His kin hailed from Mandalore; his ancestors the first Mandalorians alongside the Taung. He was expected to leave somewhere near two hundred years of age if he was lucky. Given the current way he lived his life, it would likely me less than half of that. He would not have hundreds of years to ponder decisions. Decades to lose friends, family, and other loved ones. His was a brief existence; a short spark that could shine oh so bright if it will itself. Yet still, he understood the man's pain.

"I'm not here for a pity party son," he grumbled, "I'm here because you're tearing yourself apart in my bad." The Chieftain leaned back in his chair. With the fear of Death Watch evident in the common man's mind, the last thing Kurs'taylir needed was a crazed drunk.

Still, he did not have to tackle this from a hostile vantage point.

"Why are you doing this? What's your game here? Drink away the problems?" He lofted a brow. "I can tell you right now, that doesn't work."

[member="Varan Zarvenis"]

 

[Varan Zarvenis]

Varan let out a small sigh, his hand lifting to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Well... pummeling the face of your man's problem didn't work. There's no ladies to kark the problems away with. So yeah, I'm gonna drink them away until pass out. Then I get another job, repeat the process." As he spoke, he felt his head slowly staring to clear. It was incredibly hard for his people to get drunk. It was also difficult to stay drunk. Silently, he cursed his body's resistance to toxins.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]