Sometimes, Less is More

[Scherezade deWinter]

Intent: To teach [member="Daisy Americus"] how to write short posts. This thread is still canon. No more than 5 lines per post permitted. We'll probably break the rules later on.

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Scherezade was still drinking. At some point, there had been the waves, the sand, her booze, and someone who called her by her grandmother's name. Now she was on some ship with the sister of the man she'd tried to kill. The pain was still radiating off of her, and she still looked like a miserable kicked wet kitten. On top of that, she had no idea where she was or how she's gotten there. She took another long swig fro her bottle and tried to focus on her surroundings.


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy was a concerned for her new Confederate friend and though she tried not to stare, she frequently, glanced back toward her. The brunette was waif thin with a pretty face, beneath all the splotchy redness from crying, and drank down moonshine as if it were starfruit juice. They were lingering in the atmosphere of Castagne until [member="Scherezade deWinter"] sobered up, using one of the luxury space yachts that the CIS had loaned her family, until they made other ship arrangements. “Are you sure I can’t get you somethin’ to eat darlin’? Maybe a little water?”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Eat. Scherezade's stomach grumbled, reminding her for about the millionth time that liquor alone could not sustain her nutritional needs. She pulled her abdominal muscles in to quiet it down. What was she supposed to tell Daisy? That she liked such few kinds of food but the few she did like constantly reminded her of one of the people that broke her heart and it was hard for her to even look at it now? It sounded stupid. It probably was stupid. But maybe... "Don't suppose you have cream?" she asked quietly. Cream... Could be safe. Maybe. Hopefully.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

She knew from past experience that Scherezade’s stomach was probably eating holes in itself. Burning, angry holes, if the moonshine had anything to say about it. Her request, when it finally came, caused Daisy to tilt her head curiously. It was a well-stocked space-yacht made to escort Confederate diplomats in security and safety and luxury, it certainly seemed possible, but she worried it might curdle when mixed with liquor. “Ah’m really not sure, but, ah’d be happy to check.”, Daisy responded, before reaching for the data-pad that sat beside her, to ask the protocol droid. If they had it the droid would bring it. “Anything else? Fruit? A change of clothes?”

There was a mighty nice refresher to the right of Daisy’s bedroom equipped with all the bells and whistles.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She remembered fruit. Fruit was too sweet for her tongue. A change of clothes though... Scherezade looked at herself. She was wet, the clothes sticking to her body, her arsenal of knives quite noticeable now. Was she supposed to get dry? Probably. Did she care? Not really. Even if Daisy thought she looked... Wait. Scherezade looked at the blonde woman, eyes narrowing. They were... Pretty close in size? Usually most women around Scherezade looked about ten sizes smaller. She nodded at that suggestion. "If you have... I don't know. Jeans? Wide t-shirt? I don't like... Complicated clothes."


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy nodded her head at Scherezade and smiled softly. “Ah understand.”, she murmured, and unfolded from her position in the floor. The golden-haired woman headed over toward her drawers and began to rifle through them. Eventually, she retrieved a soft blue tee-shirt, and a pair of denims that looked like they might fit. She headed over to the brunette girl and held them up, giving her a little squint, before smiling again. “This should do the trick. If you want to leave your weapons ah can start cleanin’ em for ya.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

A blue shirt. She couldn't remember ever having worn a blue shirt. Blue was... The color of Gerwald's eyes. And Katrine's. For a moment, Scherezade looked like she was going to burst into tears, but she swallowed it down and began to strip in front of Daisy, apparently not really being bothered by her own nude form. If Daisy would look, she'd see more than enough scars decorating Scherezade's body. In only six months of existence, she'd managed to mass an amount worthy of a lifetime. The only thing that was as smooth as a baby's behind was her back. "Thanks, Daisy," she said once she was dressed and her weapons piled up in a bigger pyramid than one would expect, and sat down, taking another gulp from her bottle. "Why are you doing this?" she found herself asking, not quite ready to look at the cheerful blonde.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy felt a pang of confusion. Was blue offensive? It was plain, non-descript, and roomy. Exactly what she had asked for. “If it’s not to your liking we can find somethin’ new…”, she offered, abruptly turning her head away when the young woman began to undress, but, still caught a glimpse of her mottled form. Either she was a warrior or someone had hurt her. Maybe both. Scherezade thanked her and subsequently asked why she was helping—and the golden-haired woman smiled gently. “Sand is itchy. You can’t very well suffer in it all night.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Sand was itchy? Well, it was, but... Some things were worse than sand. Sand was coarse and rough and irritating and it got everywhere. But there were bigger things on her mind and in her heart at the moment than the bits of sand that would later teach her she had more cavities in her body than she thought she had. "There were other people on that beach though," she found herself asking, her voice low, "why me?" and with that she took another swig from her bottle. She was going to have to find a new bottle soon enough.


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

"Why not you sugah?", Daisy repeated, ever-smiling, as she turned to hunt around the room for her weapons cleaning kit. She didn't have nearly as many knives as Scherezade did but she had learned at a very young age the value of stripping undesirables from a blade early on. Blood, sand, and other meatier chunks never did anyone any favors. DJ released a little sound of victory when she found what she was looking for and spread out the contents on the floor. "May I?"

She didn't want to just grab someone else's weapons without asking. That was the easiest way to die on Concord Dawn.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade nodded. Sure, Daisy could handle the knives if she wanted to. The important bit would be later, when Scherezade left, and had to make sure all her knives were on her. She wanted to trust Daisy, she really did. But she'd been taught with such cruelty that you couldn't trust anyone. If your sister and the man you loved would betray you... Anyone could. "Because people don't really like me," she admitted, giving voice to the truth. She already knew what would come next; Daisy would say she didn't. It was a rerun of a scene she'd been through many times before. It always ended the same.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

“People don’t like me either. Not always. It happens.”, Daisy responded with a slight nod of her head. She reached up on the bed and snagged the knife closet to the edge and rocked back indian-style on her rump to begin cleaning. This was something she knew how to do. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t likeable, darlin’. Just gotta be patient and find the right kinda people.”

Anyone worth a kark would be willing to put up with someone on their worst day, if only, to appreciate them at their best. Everyone had flaws. “My family seems pretty backwater. Most core dwellers hear my accent and think ah’m a dumb hick. Or a stripper.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

It felt like the first time in years, but Scherezade actually smiled at Daisy's words, her eyes focused on how she was working with her knife. "Nothing wrong with strippers," she said, "my aunt owns a brothel franchise, strippers included. I haven't met them, but I hear they're some of the fiercest and most intelligent women in the 'verse." It was true. She had memories of her grandmother setting the place up centuries ago. Intelligence was a basic requirement, ranking high above appearances, which could always be fixed if needed. "I'm from a backwater planet too," she added, "but I don't have their accent. At least I don't think so. Where in the Outer Rim are you from?"


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

“That they may be, darlin’, but ah don’t want to be somethin’ ah’m not.”, Daisy returned with a little grin and bits of sparkling humor lingering in the corners of her eyes. Some of that happiness faded when the brunette asked her where she was from. Skilled finished finish one knife, setting it off to the side, before she reached for the left. “Far, far away from here. Ah’m not sure if you can say you’re from a place if it no longer wants you.”

“Ah’m from Haseria, now.”, she amended, trying to replace her smile, and not think about Concord Dawn. She missed her home, but the sooner she accepted it was gone, inaccessible, the better.

“Has anyone ever told you—you have the greenest eyes ah ever did see?”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Ah’m not sure if you can say you’re from a place if it no longer wants you. Scherezade could only nod to that statement. In many ways, it echoed how she felt about her own ancestral home, Endelaan. She was too weak to go there. She would be little more than air if she did, or so she believed. Haseria... Was as good as a place as any. She hadn't been there since the night she'd stabbed Darth Metus. She had no reason to go there anyway. And then Daisy commented about her eyes.

"Thank you," she said, "but... They're not the greenest. In my family, our power is shown through our eyes. My mother, my aunts, my grandmother, my grandfather... Everyone who shares direct blood has green eyes. And the strongest of us have eyes so vibrant it looks like they glow. And sometimes they don't just look like the glow, but they really glow. I'm just a dim green compared to them."


(teehee I broke the rule)


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Daisy listened, interested, and nodded her head slowly when Scherezade explained a smidge of her history. It was truthfully the most she'd learned about her new friend thus far. "They're still the greenest ah've ever seen. Very pretty. I didn't know it had anything to do with a bit of hocus-pocus.", she admitted, twirling one of the knives in the air casually, before placing it down next to the others she'd finished. They were nice knives. Well balanced, despite, not really being made for throwing.

"So if you had babies one day...Would their eyes be green too?"

The golden-haired woman chewed on the inside of her cheek a little when she finished asking, trying to figure out, if there was anything her parents had passed down to their kids. Aside from a love of moonshine and slugthrowers of course.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade made no comment as her eyes were complimented again. She wasn't trying to be rude or anything; in truth, she was simply unused to being complimented for anything at all. She wanted to correct Daisy about her hocus-pocus comment, but decided not to. If Daisy wanted to learn about the Force, now was not the time, and Scherezade was not the person to teach it. She was too weak to teach anyone anything. And she was getting annoyed. So far she had managed to quite literally push everyone away. Because alone was safe. Alone meant no one betrayed you. And yet, she found herself liking Daisy and her accent. Liked her enough to continue handling her knives, which was another thing she'd never let anyone do before except... Never-mind.

Next came the question about babies. "Unless something very wrong happened, yes," she answered, "but I don't think I'm going to have babies, even if I want to."

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

"What kinda' wrong?", Daisy questioned, ever curious, while she focused on the task at hand. There were little itty bits of sand ground into the strangest places near the knife hilts. She pondered over her new friend's words about children and really wasn't sure what to think. Had she been hurt in some way that prevented her from physically reproducing? Seafoam green eyes flickered with concern. She hoped not. "Ah always wanted a baker's dozen growin' up. Now I'm not so sure. Need the right kinda' guy and the right kinda' world. Ah'm not sure those exist."

DJ had been dumped, or left, more times than she could count. At this point, she had given up trying to figure out what she was doing wrong. If Mr. Right came along and white picket fences, school lunches, and nappy changing marathons were in her future? It would happen in its own time. There was no sense in fussin' about it now.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

What kind of wrong. Oh, there were so many things that could go wrong. "Like if they didn't have the Force, but that's really a minor thing. If it were my kids I'd love them anyway," she answered, "or if someone hurt them and managed to mangle them, do something really bad to them." That was an option to. That was... Scherezade thought that was why her eyes weren't as strong as her mother's or grandmother's. Because of what her grandmother had done to her.

She smiled at Daisy's comment about a baker's dozen. "My mom wanted a lot of kids too," she said, "but someone hurt her and her reproductive bits were harmed. She just barely managed to bring me and my twin brother to term, and it almost killed her several times over."

She sighed. "I think... I think, with the right person, I want a lot of them as well. But... But in my life, in my family, there is a lot of danger. And I don't think I'm strong enough to protect any kids. How can I be a mom if I know in advance that I can't ward them from any danger that comes along? I can't even protect myself in most cases. Not when it matters."


[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

“Ah wish everyone felt that way.”, Daisy responded, her smile still there, but it didn’t quite touch the halls of her eyes. Especially not when she mentioned someone hurting her children. Mangling them. That was a notion that made her blood run cold. “Family is everything. Ah would bury the person who even looked at my babies the wrong way.”

Scherezade smiled. It was nice. As opposed to the stint on the beach, it was a far cry from the sad, listless woman she had initially met. “Ah’m real sorry for your mama but ah’m glad she had you. Ah’d look a might silly talkin’ to myself right now.”

It was a pitiful attempt at a joke, to keep the mood from darkening, but she wasn’t sure it would stick. The dark haired girl explained her fears and Daisy nodded. “Ah feel the same way sometimes. But, when you become a parent, things change. You do what you need to. You move heaven and earth. If you can’t…You’ll learn.”

The moment was cut off by the protocol droid buzzing in with the cream that she had requested. Daisy made a face. It looked a little thick to be drinking. “That would be for you darlin’.”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]