Quietus
Hunting Again
Come have a drink with me, Aver Brand.
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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The Epistolary Episodes of a Murderous Mercenary and a Quondam Queen
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Aver Brand
Mercicle
Nest :: Cruelest Cut
A lodge off to the side of the ring. Two seats, a great view, and a bottle of Corellian brandy.
An ornate wooden box, long and slim. Special bought.
Aver sat in the opposite chair, swirling her alcohol. Waiting.
[member="Blackthorne"]
A lodge off to the side of the ring. Two seats, a great view, and a bottle of Corellian brandy.
An ornate wooden box, long and slim. Special bought.
Aver sat in the opposite chair, swirling her alcohol. Waiting.
[member="Blackthorne"]
Quietus
Hunting Again
Quiet footsteps, leather soles on a worn path, and that familiar tingle at the back of one's mind preceded her arrival. No guidance needed to find the Mercenary with whom she had become quite familiar over various encounters. A smile wasn't quite what met her blue gaze when she stepped in, but it certainly wasn't a frown. Quietus carried with her a leather Marauder's Bag of black terentatek hide - this was set on the floor by the empty chair into which she sat.
She stared, silent as always, acidic green meeting icy blue, a short exchange. That brief, cursory type of look that quickly summed up the other.
Home looks good on you.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
In a private lodge, Aver allowed a private smile. The corner of her mouth curled upwards, quickly covered by the lip of her glass.
“You look… calm.”
Two men walked into the arena below, and the crowd went wild. The match was on the line, and so was her five thousand credit bet. Pocket change. She looked away, content to listen to the chorus of violence.
She nudged the slim case over, grin widening.
“That’s home.”
[member="Blackthorne"]
“You look… calm.”
Two men walked into the arena below, and the crowd went wild. The match was on the line, and so was her five thousand credit bet. Pocket change. She looked away, content to listen to the chorus of violence.
She nudged the slim case over, grin widening.
“That’s home.”
[member="Blackthorne"]
Quietus
Hunting Again
Turquoise down-turned to the case and considered it, lifting a degree to the hand that coaxed it towards her. Like a child eager to see a gift opened; the gesture elicited a faint upward tick of her lips.
She reached forward and carefully opened the case, a slow blink and raising of a single brow resulting.
Not home, replied the telepath as she plucked from within a pristine sten, drawing the roll beneath her nose to catch the scent. Good quality, the real deal. This was not something easy to come by, nor cheap in any form.
Merely history.
The case snapped shut, she pinched the sten in her lips, Thank you. Light?
She reached forward and carefully opened the case, a slow blink and raising of a single brow resulting.
Not home, replied the telepath as she plucked from within a pristine sten, drawing the roll beneath her nose to catch the scent. Good quality, the real deal. This was not something easy to come by, nor cheap in any form.
Merely history.
The case snapped shut, she pinched the sten in her lips, Thank you. Light?
Aver Brand
Mercicle
She tilted her head, finished her glass.
“You ever went back?”
Her cold blue eyes flickered over to the action below. Split-second assessment and— a frown. That was five k down the drain.
With a lazy gesture, Aver extended her hand over. An open palm – a lighter. One of those that could also burn through turadium in under half a second, but… unimportant.
“You ever went back?”
Her cold blue eyes flickered over to the action below. Split-second assessment and— a frown. That was five k down the drain.
With a lazy gesture, Aver extended her hand over. An open palm – a lighter. One of those that could also burn through turadium in under half a second, but… unimportant.
Quietus
Hunting Again
Curious sort of lighter...
Moments later a haze of purple pooled from the silent woman's lips. She kept the lighter to study it.
Yes, once, towards the tail end of the Gulag when the virus started burning out. I lived there for a long time, but it was never home.
Clink, clink. Chk. This was more a torch than a simple flame. Quietus looked at the Merc as though she couldn't have expected anything but overkill.
Moments later a haze of purple pooled from the silent woman's lips. She kept the lighter to study it.
Yes, once, towards the tail end of the Gulag when the virus started burning out. I lived there for a long time, but it was never home.
Clink, clink. Chk. This was more a torch than a simple flame. Quietus looked at the Merc as though she couldn't have expected anything but overkill.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
Aver shot her an utterly unapologetic grin, teeth glinting in the white-blue flame.
“What’s home, then?”
Replacing her empty glass on the table, the merc produced a worn stack of cards. The corners were frayed, the colors all washed out. She wrapped her fingers around the bottle, thumbed out the cork, and tipped it to her mouth.
“What’s home, then?”
Replacing her empty glass on the table, the merc produced a worn stack of cards. The corners were frayed, the colors all washed out. She wrapped her fingers around the bottle, thumbed out the cork, and tipped it to her mouth.
Quietus
Hunting Again
Onderon, I suppose. If anywhere felt like home, that was it.
Weariness accompanied the telepathic words, a sense of duty and responsibility finally deposed for a long-awaited retirement. Quietus eased back into her chair and allowed her gaze to wander down to the stage below. Two new contestants were making their way out to a chorus of applause.
A faint line formed on her brow, the strain of mild distaste. Her cheeks hollowed as she pulled on the sten.
You were born here, weren't you.
Weariness accompanied the telepathic words, a sense of duty and responsibility finally deposed for a long-awaited retirement. Quietus eased back into her chair and allowed her gaze to wander down to the stage below. Two new contestants were making their way out to a chorus of applause.
A faint line formed on her brow, the strain of mild distaste. Her cheeks hollowed as she pulled on the sten.
You were born here, weren't you.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
“That snotty kid of yours, he’s doing a solid job.” She smirked around the brandy. “Course he doesn’t know that we’re, mm, borrowing the prisoners, but… expected. He’s young.” Aver took another swig, then offered the bottle to Quietus.
She sighed, shrugging. “That obvious?”
She sighed, shrugging. “That obvious?”
Quietus
Hunting Again
Or he doesn't care... brows lifted in a shrug of expression, she pulled the sten from her lips and held it out, absently twisting her fingers through the smoke. Another glance back, Quietus slowly looked Aver up and down. What she could seen of her from where she sat, anyway.
No, she said, not obvious. But it fits.
Her right arm moved to set the lighter back on the table, fingers gesturing to the empty glass and pulling it to their reach. Quietus tipped it towards the Merc, I don't usually partake but I hear the Corellian stuff is good.
No, she said, not obvious. But it fits.
Her right arm moved to set the lighter back on the table, fingers gesturing to the empty glass and pulling it to their reach. Quietus tipped it towards the Merc, I don't usually partake but I hear the Corellian stuff is good.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
“Fits?”
Reaching over, Aver poured a healthy measure of the amber liquid into the glass. The aroma of a planet broken in the greatest galactic cataclysm in recent memory wafted to her nostrils, coaxing a pleased smile.
“Can’t beat the buzz. Well, maybe…” she glanced down to the arena, where a man was just beating another into a pulp for a measly sum of a hundred credits.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
Reaching over, Aver poured a healthy measure of the amber liquid into the glass. The aroma of a planet broken in the greatest galactic cataclysm in recent memory wafted to her nostrils, coaxing a pleased smile.
“Can’t beat the buzz. Well, maybe…” she glanced down to the arena, where a man was just beating another into a pulp for a measly sum of a hundred credits.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
Quietus
Hunting Again
Her stare lingered on the woman a moment past the last drop in the tumbler, pondering the implication of this gesture. Glass full, she brought it to her lips, pausing to let the scent catch amidst the roiling smoke surrounding her. Of that gesture.
My grandmother had a peculiar fondness for Whyren's Reserve...
There was a double entendre there that Aver wouldn't be aware of but it didn't really matter.
And yes, tipping the glass she took a taste and couldn't quite hold back the wince. There were many things Quietus had experienced and partaken in during the long years of her extended life - alcohol was not a common occurrence on that list.
You...this, she motioned with the hand holding the sten, swirling the smoke, it all makes sense.
Another glance to the woman, then to the glass in her hand and the sten in the other. If she wasn't pulling a karking Avicus Ovmar. Somebody put her out of her misery.
My grandmother had a peculiar fondness for Whyren's Reserve...
There was a double entendre there that Aver wouldn't be aware of but it didn't really matter.
And yes, tipping the glass she took a taste and couldn't quite hold back the wince. There were many things Quietus had experienced and partaken in during the long years of her extended life - alcohol was not a common occurrence on that list.
You...this, she motioned with the hand holding the sten, swirling the smoke, it all makes sense.
Another glance to the woman, then to the glass in her hand and the sten in the other. If she wasn't pulling a karking Avicus Ovmar. Somebody put her out of her misery.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
It was with mild surprise that Aver found herself smiling; not for the expression, but for the comfort with which she wore the smile. Merely considering the circumstances under which they’d met was enough to elicit a chuckle. And to think that two decades later, she’d feel at ease…
The mercenary shook her head and angled her body towards her companion. Visor protracted, the woman leaned forward, peeling from the shadows. Finally.
“I fit in a den of violence and debauchery? Shocking,” she said, palming the deck she’d set on the table. “But it’s not… home. No place is.”
Another drink – to wet her lips. Despite the gauntlets, she handled the cards with practiced dexterity. Shuffling them, once, thrice, Aver thumbed the faded pattern on the back and offered Quietus the top card.
Face down.
The mercenary shook her head and angled her body towards her companion. Visor protracted, the woman leaned forward, peeling from the shadows. Finally.
“I fit in a den of violence and debauchery? Shocking,” she said, palming the deck she’d set on the table. “But it’s not… home. No place is.”
Another drink – to wet her lips. Despite the gauntlets, she handled the cards with practiced dexterity. Shuffling them, once, thrice, Aver thumbed the faded pattern on the back and offered Quietus the top card.
Face down.
Quietus
Hunting Again
I was referring to your smell.
Quietus returned, nonchalant. The ex-Beastia canted her skull to one side, eyeing the proffered card. Another short drag on the sten with a moment to withhold the smoke, it seemed to saturate her gaze with a glaze of purplish hue. She took the card and exhaled - it remained face down.
What's this.
Quietus returned, nonchalant. The ex-Beastia canted her skull to one side, eyeing the proffered card. Another short drag on the sten with a moment to withhold the smoke, it seemed to saturate her gaze with a glaze of purplish hue. She took the card and exhaled - it remained face down.
What's this.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
Her only retort was a roll of the eyes, a split-second grin.
"This?... I don't know. Shuffled them, didn't I?"
Icy eyes twinkled in the dark, the fight below forgotten. Her lips wrapped around the word, lips wet with the best alcohol money could buy.
"Why don't you find out?"
"This?... I don't know. Shuffled them, didn't I?"
Icy eyes twinkled in the dark, the fight below forgotten. Her lips wrapped around the word, lips wet with the best alcohol money could buy.
"Why don't you find out?"
Quietus
Hunting Again
The card stuck between fore and middle of the same fingers holding the glass. Quietus batted a brow at the Merc and set the glass on the table, flipping the card up to look at it. 10 of Spades.
Ok.
Blink.
Now what.
Ok.
Blink.
Now what.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
Aver's grin widened. "Go again. Look at it, but don't tell me."
"If I guess wrong..." she trailed off, shrugging, "I'm sure you'll think of something."
"But if I get it right, Quietus, you'll have dinner with me."
"If I guess wrong..." she trailed off, shrugging, "I'm sure you'll think of something."
"But if I get it right, Quietus, you'll have dinner with me."
Quietus
Hunting Again
Flek flek flik. Quietus thumbed the card with her fingernail, bemused expression forming on her face.
Alright, I'll bite...
She lifted the sten back to her lips, pinching it there as she reached to take another card. A continuous churning of smoke filtered around her, billowing a heady scent of spice and something strangely like mint into the air. A peek at the card revealed the Queen of Spades.
what card have I in my possession, Aver Brand.
Alright, I'll bite...
She lifted the sten back to her lips, pinching it there as she reached to take another card. A continuous churning of smoke filtered around her, billowing a heady scent of spice and something strangely like mint into the air. A peek at the card revealed the Queen of Spades.
what card have I in my possession, Aver Brand.
Aver Brand
Mercicle
Liquid delight, Aver poured out of her seat, pulling to full height. Her fingers abandoned the neck of the bottle, her hands relinquished the worn deck of cards.
The merc stood, her smile a red hook in the darkness when she leaned forward, brushing her lips along her throat, to her ear.
"Like you..." she rumbled, timbre scraping along gravel, "she is a Queen..."
A faint nip at her earlobe, the suppressed shudder along her spine when she inhaled the scent of predator.
"A Queen of Blades."
The merc stood, her smile a red hook in the darkness when she leaned forward, brushing her lips along her throat, to her ear.
"Like you..." she rumbled, timbre scraping along gravel, "she is a Queen..."
A faint nip at her earlobe, the suppressed shudder along her spine when she inhaled the scent of predator.
"A Queen of Blades."
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