(I don't think this is my best work, as it's late, I'm laden with Christmas wine and I am as sleepy as can be, but I hope this post is enjoyable enough, everyone. I tend to get nitpicky and fussy over my work the more tired I get... Merry Christmas Eve and you all enjoy opening presents tomorrow. Goodnight and we'll play more ASAP... I hope I don't regret engaging in the same RP with two characters now. x.x )
The Devaronian looked awfully comical with his own dagger sticking out of his chest in the silvery, dream-like Tatooine moonlight.
At least, that's what Talyr Ivaakren thought to herself as she emerged from that same alley's shadows just beyond where the Devaronian had been set upon in a failed attempt to waylay a Hutt slave, just beyond the red-eyed Selonian's unorthodox sleeping arrangement behind a dumpster inside of a broken, hollow and apparently forgotten pipe that had served to pleasantly insulate the Selonian vagabond and nameless vigilante, at least, it had until the shouts of the Weequay child, the cursing of several Aqualish that had noticed the attempted bully and the subsequent struggle that had ensued had proved noisy enough to make the blue-gray alien jut her lanky, petite torso outside of her comfortable pipe to survey the area to determine just what the hell was going on in the dead of an otherwise mildly comfortable night, even if it was a bit chilly.
The two four-eyed Aqualish (Talyr couldn't exactly recall what that subspecies was called) and one webbed-fingered variant that was bulkier then the other two had wrested the squalling, trembling and rather pudgy Weequay (in clothes much too big for him) away from his would-be abductor. Talyr felt her lithe, though athletic body tense, muscles coiling as she contemplated slipping through the shadows to tackle the Devaronian directly from behind and aid the Aqualish directly, now that it was apparent that the Weequay wanted nothing to do with the green-skinned, horned alien. Fin-Hand had snarled from his throat as he had cradled the bawling child, even as the Devaronian had begun to draw forth and aim a pistol, his unbroken horn (the other missing) glinting silver in the moonlight as he began to aim... Briefly fumbling with her own blaster, the brown-haired, nervous Selonian had just silently unholstered the pistol when the fight ended as swiftly as it had began.
The Devaronian's pistol had only just stopped moving when one of the smaller four-eyed Aqualish, a stout-looking female, removed Hornhead's own black-bladed dagger from its holster, driving the exotic-looking blade upwards in a smooth, flowing motion, at a diagonal angle, directly into the flesh just beneath the Devaronian's sternum. Fin-Hand hugged the Weequay to his torso, using one hand to keep the child's eyes averted as he and the male Four Eye made their way beyond the alley's maw; they knew that the fight had been won, even as the Horned Green Skin's blaster fell from pained, trembling fingers naught but a moment after he had drawn it, his back striking the sand-encrusted, ghost-colored building in the silver moonlight. With a brutal, victorious laugh, the stout she-Aqualish turned on a thick heel, then set of at a brisk jog, where already the crying little Weequay's sobbing could be heard receding into the distance.
Having already replaced her pistol at her side even as her sinuous, weasel-like form emerged into the bright full moon's sheen, which gave her normally blue-gray fur an exotic, beautiful silver glow, the lithe and boyish Selonian used a free hand to idly scratch one side of her furred neck as she approached the fallen, gasping and pained Hornhead, a swift upwards kick connecting with his chin before he even had the chance to begin to look at her, though his raised head indicated that he heard her approach, even as it gave her rapid foot the perfect angle at which to strike him unconscious. Surely, the monster deserved it... After all, there was no place in the galaxy where the kidnapping of younglings would have been granted any sort of leeway - some things were just never right.
It was with such thoughts circling her mind that the Selonian proceeded to deftly and with practiced ease sift her dexterous little hands in and out of Hornhead's every pocket, producing a few hundred easy credits for her to put to more morally upright uses, several unused ammo cartridges, a small package of odd, granular purple spice that could be traded to a non-addict or burnt to prevent its spreading entirely, and the blaster pistol itself, which could easily be sold here in the Outer Rim. All-in-all, the opportunity had provided Talyr with a decent haul, and a perfect way via which she could begin tomorrow properly, starting with a decent breakfast before selling the unwanted blaster.
However, there was now the matter of being unable to sleep due to the small rush of adrenaline that was still pumping through the Selonian's blood - further rest, for now, was out of the question, and the lanky alien now had no idea just what she was going to do in order to pass the time...
Her lidded red eyes scanning to and fro over the many torchlit, electronically-powered or droid-lighted stalls, kiosks and food vendors for tourists and feeling the beginnings of wanderlust tugging at her heart and mind, one of the galaxy's biggest failures recalled a certain kiosk that might make for a good use of the money that evil had provided her...
* * *
The Selonian appeared off to the Whiphid's eyes, seemingly the pure and dialectical opposite to his own gargantuan, musclebound form, with her thin, dexterous and long limbs, a boyishly-thin, demure and skinny torso that only barely contained anything along the line of proper feminine curves, a scraggly-furred, unkempt tail and her short head of dark hair (in the night, one couldn't tell the exact shade); even the Selonian's clothing was off, with a leather jacket much too large over her thin frame, comically-loose pants that threatened to bestow upon their owner the ability to moon Tatooine's moon (ha ha...), seeming to barely attain purchase over the ferret-alien's bony hips, and a loose t-shirt that easily concealed a good deal of the Selonian's femininity beneath the dark green, unadorned fabric. Indeed, the Selonian, with sand falling from her tail as it swayed to one side, failed to notice the downward tug of her pants on one side as she placed those thin hands into her breeches' pockets, the hem of her undergarment's waistband visible on one side to the Whiphid's appraising gaze, even as anyone viewing the vagabond from behind would have been able to see just as much, if not more then the supposed fortune teller. At times, Talyr was one of the galaxy's more prominent examples of what one could expect incompetence of the female variety to look like.
"So, I can ask anything I want, right?" The dark-haired Selonian smiled in an odd, left-sided manner, her unusual red eyes bright as one hand reached beneath the seat of her pants to scratch her scrawny backside, the same hand tugging her loose pants up into place once more as she awkwardly began to massage her tailbase, softly belching into the air as she awaited the Whiphid's response.
Velok Brokentusk
