The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks

[Aver Brand]

Securing the necklace proved to be more difficult than anticipated, almost exclusively due to the untamed mane of blonde curls plastered against [member="Quietus"]’ skin. Try as she might, the strands kept sticking back to the tan flesh, and Aver strongly suspected they were possessed of a will of their own, which was in turn influenced in no small part by the Queen’s stubborn and defiant nature.

She hummed her frustration and subsequent success with a furrowed brow, squinting angrily at the loop of rough thread upon which the fangs had been strung. Despite her skirmish with the tribal jewelry, the mercenary didn’t miss the calm lilt of the Beastia’s words.

How could she, when they rang clear as day around her skull?

“Noble of you,” she murmured, dipping her head to scrutinize her handiwork. “I don’t get it, though. Why not give them the finger?”
Her speech became increasingly muffled as she nuzzled against her neck, seeking out the steady beat of her pulse.

“You don’t really strike me as the sort to bend for others… though I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t mind.”

 

[Quietus]

I would not equate compromise to bending.

Compromise meant she still gained something whereas bending implied a total loss. Quietus did not consider having the children as a loss - on the contrary, after several bloody and violent feuds with [member="Lucianus Adair"] the man had finally convinced her to carry to term, birth, and raise the twins with the knowledge that Quietus had never planned to remain on Onderon forever and she would require an heir.

In all likelihood, she would require multiple heirs. An heir she had in Arathul but not with any assurance he would live to succeed her or, for that matter, even want the position and responsibility. Only time would tell.

Her free hand snaked backwards over her shoulder to press fingers through [member="Aver Brand"]'s wet hair as she nuzzled into her neck, Are you hungry?

 

[Aver Brand]

Shaking her head slightly, Aver let her forehead rest flush against the cool strands of hair, eyes momentarily closed. Though her voice was low – little more than a whisper, really – it still conveyed the genuine confusion creasing her brow. “You did something you didn’t want… how is that compromise?”

A soft peal of laughter smoothed the furrow once more, and her eyes twinkled with mischief and the hint of the fire that [member="Quietus"]’ question had rekindled. She scraped the sharp points of her teeth gently against the taut column of the blonde’s throat, relishing the thrum of blood just below the wet skin.

“Mmmdepends,” she murmured into the flesh, sneaking her hands down the flat plane of the Beastia’s stomach. “What are you offering, Queen?”

It was that moment that her own belly chose to let out a low rumble, rudely dashing its owner’s overt attempts at seduction. She and Puppy had a bite of some local game during their run through the woods, but it had only been a matter of time before her metabolism expressed its displeasure once more.

“On the other hand, I’d love something rare,” she conceded with a sigh, carefully concealing her pout in the messy mane of Beastia’s hair.

 

[Quietus]

Because some day I will gain something from it...

She closed her eyes against the pinch of fangs at her neck, offering no resistance and feeling the chill it grew on her skin dissipate within the heat of the spring. The hands at her stomach teased the stirrings of other thoughts but the Beastia's hunger for the flesh and blood of the hunt far outweighed that of physical wants. Her hand left the other woman's hair, coming to rest upon the bone choker now laced around her neck.

A hunt, then, Quietus offered, twisting out of Aver's grasp to climb out of the spring, steam roiling off bronzed and tattooed skin in the waning hours of twilight, unless you are tired from your travels.

 

[Aver Brand]

Once the idea had entrenched itself in her mind, there was no getting away from it. Eagerly, the mercenary followed [member="Quietus"] out of the steaming pool, welcoming the slight chill evening air brought after an hour of soaking in near-boiling water.

She let the question go unanswered as she mulled it over, stretching lazily. Joints popped much to her delight, and the woman bit back a long groan of satisfaction.

I need to come here more often.

With her decision made, the mercenary slowly turned to face her host as she summoned her hastily discarded clothing, gingerly dragging it back on.

“Tired,” she started with a huff, “is a matter of perspective.” The first leg was secure, then the other, and the woman pushed on. “I distinctly recall an… excursion on Rakata Prime. Somebody karked up the LZ, and me and Khallesh ended up trekking through over fifty miles of jungle and beasts from Netherworld.”

The familiar sound of a zipper marked the end of her endeavor, and Aver met the Beastia’s eyes with a small smile. “After that, tired became a whole another animal.”

“What are we hunting?”

 

[Quietus]

The Beastia dressed in silence while listening to the other woman speak. She had no idea who Khallesh was and she certainly couldn't recall if she'd ever been to Rakata Prime, but a knowing appreciation for the distance and the challenge rested firmly amidst hundreds of years of memories and experiences. Another animal indeed.

She secured leather and woven hemp attire with ties and buckles, pulling the length of unruly golden locks up off her shoulders and into a hastily wrapped knot of braids and cowlicked tendrils. Maalraas, came the answer with a flashing grin of teeth as she tapped at the fangs now hanging about her neck. Seeing that Aver was ready she recounted their steps to take the trail back up towards the encampment, Puppy lazily shadowed their progress.

They run rampant and rank in the Scarside highlands. Culling the packs is necessary to keep them from over-hunting the prey beasts.

 

[Aver Brand]

Retracing their path proved easy enough, and the oppressive humidity had gone beyond the horizon along with the sun, undoubtedly off to pester other victims. The mercenary was happy to take in deep lungfuls of cool evening air as it doused the last of the embers still humming with need at the base of her spine. As much as she enjoyed the thrill of the hunger, Aver had seen entirely too many battles end poorly for those who failed to pay enough attention to the dangers at hand.

Because she realized just how pitiful it would be if she were to meet her end at the claws or fangs of some jungle pest, the firrerreo banished any lingering thoughts (and imagery) of the Queen of Onderon bent over.
There would be time for that yet.

"And how do you cull the packs? Spears? Clubs? Bow and arrow?"

Her mocking voice disappeared behind the flap of [member="Quietus"]' tent as she went to retrieve the phrik plates. She simply refused to gallivant about the jungle without adequate protection.

 

[Quietus]

The latter, replied the Beastia to the Mercenary's thoughts, taking up her personal bow hung on hooks from the rafters of her private tent home. Beneath it hung a quiver of arrows that she pulled down and looped over her head before turning to catch Aver pulling on her armored plating.

I would suggest leaving the armor behind, they hunt in packs. Speed and maneuverability are your best defense, she said, green eyes honing in on the gun the woman reached for next, and no guns.

 

[Aver Brand]

"You..." she trailed off, incredulously, and blinked at the blonde who had just stepped into her field of vision. Bow and quiver in hand.
"You're serious."

Her fingers stopped mid-way through fastening the breastplate, and Aver narrowed her blue eyes at the blasphemer. "You can't ask for both," she intoned slowly, shaking her head.

"I'll leave the gun, but this," she gestured to the metal hanging on her chest, "stays. I have no karking idea how to use your primitive weapons, and I'm not terribly fond of getting mauled while I try to notch a frakking arrow."

 

[Quietus]

Quietus looked at the woman over her shoulder as she strung a second bow and lofted a brow. In this moment she was vaguely reminded of a Voldenism. What was it he once said to her while attempting to dress her in a gown for an evening gala with Cazador...?

The Lady doth protest too much, methinks.

She was tempted to verbalize as much but after a moment reconsidered.

Compromise. If nothing else she was certain she could gain a modicum of entertainment at some point tonight due to that armor alone. Quietus took up a second quiver before stepping over to Aver, If you insist, and pressed the bow and quiver into the woman's hands, but no guns. I'll get you arrows, meet me outside when you're ready. The Beastia patted her breastplate then turned and stepped out of the tent, her own bow at hand.

 

[Aver Brand]

The mercenary quietly fumed on the spot as she glared at the leather contraption in her grasp. Leather? Sure. Leather and [member="Quietus"]? Hell yes. But not goddamn leather and frakking arrows.

Lamenting the turn her evening had taken, Aver wondered briefly how badly she could possibly fail at this bow thing. People had invented guns for a reason. It was an achievement heralded by a myriad of species all over the Galaxy; an invention conceived by brilliant minds completely independent of each other; a device that had long overshadowed the outdated combination of wood and string for one very simple reason.

Efficiency.

She groaned. It was a groan laced with the sort of pain one experiences when they are forced to go against their fundamental beliefs. Principles, even.
Okay, so maybe that's a bit of a stretch. Aver wasn't exactly the definition of 'principled'. In fact, if one were inclined to look it up, she was far more likely to show up under the antonym section.

Casting one last forlorn glance in the direction of her firearm, the woman followed after the Beastia with an empty quiver and a weapon she had no idea what to do with.

"Will you at least show me how to not shoot myself?"

 

[Quietus]

Quietus had her own arguments against technology but they weren't anything she felt compelled to bring up. She was picking out arrows from a fresh stockpile a tribesman was working on when Aver found her. Puppy sat nearby the man's fire chewing on a fresh hank of meat, completely content with its lot in life.

Of course I will, the Beastia brushed the fletching of an arrow over the side of her own face and leaned to fill Aver's quiver, come with me.

She lead the woman through a line of tents to an open courtyard that overlooked the ridge cliff edge. Across the way three target stands stood against the backdrop of the evening sky and Onderon's multiple moons slowly rising to fill the darkness. Dxun hung green and glowing on very horizon, so big it seemed you could hit it with a well-shot arrow.

Wotcher, Quietus tapped the side of her nose with her index finger, indicating Aver to observe as she took up her stance and knocked an arrow. She took a moment to explain the setup and the grip, the action of the draw, the pinch of the fingers over the string, the weight of the bow in the guiding hand, the built-in sight. Breath in deeply, she said, feel the strength of your shot grow within your chest and then release the power with the arrow.

Sssssfffpt. She released and in a blink her arrow sank into the heart of the target.

You are strong and you already know these principles from using your guns. Apply them here.

 

[Aver Brand]

As they left the fletcher's fire, Aver shot a glare over her shoulder at Puppy, mouthing 'Traitor' at the beast who was sinking her fangs gum-deep into the delicious meat between her paws.
Forcibly, the woman averted her gaze from the salivating sight and joined the Beastia at the brink of the bluff. A quick glance revealed that the fall was quite steep and rather long, and the woman surreptitiously maneuvered farther away from the edge as she moved around the blonde during her brief explanation.

Despite herself and the reservations innately present when she was forced to downgrade to lesser tools of destruction, Aver found herself listening intently to the soft lilt of Quietus' words. She was, in the end, a consummate killer, and she couldn't say no to learning another method of delivering men from this life.

"Show-off," she smirked at the Queen and shifted to take her place, fingers folding firmly around the grip of the bow. The wooden instrument had a comforting weight in her hand as she tipped it slightly to notch the arrow, and after a few unsuccessful attempts that found the point biting the dirt more often than not, Aver had finally mastered the art.

Or at least made it as far as to hold the arrow steadily on its perch.

Closing one eye, the firrerreo exerted a fraction of her considerable strength to draw the string to her cheek. She released the arrow moments after releasing her breath, and thus quite literally waited breathlessly to see where her shot had landed.

 

[Quietus]

Schwoop!

The arrow flew off between two targets and much to Qui's expectations she did not have to preemptively tell the woman to try again. As a matter of fact she would not be surprised if they were here all night practicing until Aver was satisfied instead of hunting. The Beastia moved in quickly after the woman drew her next arrow, making to correct her position: a foot nudged at the woman's ankle to broaden her stance; her hands turned Aver's hips to align them properly with her aim; one straightened the woman's drawing elbow while the other pressed at her abdomen to keep her from collapsing through her back.

Quietus had to stand on her tip toes to look down Aver's line of sight as she slightly adjusted her to the right to account for the wind peeling over the ridge.

Both eyes open, the telepath hissed at her thoughts before standing back to let her release.

This time Aver's arrow hit its mark, though not quite center yet. It had taken Ari days to even come close to his target, but he was also only eight years old.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

Though she’d been expecting the result – or, rather, the lack of it – Aver still glared at the target as if the offending fixture had somehow moved out of the way of her arrow. Knowing this was not the case, but above all unwilling to give the Beastia the satisfaction of seeing her lose her nerve, the mercenary tried again.

Her concentration faltered somewhat when a warm body pressed flush against hers, but the distraction was gone as soon as it had appeared, having made the necessary corrections to her stance.

As she released the string again, Aver was rewarded for her patience. With a delightful thunk, the sharp point of the projectile sank into the material of the target some ten paces away (fifteen if [member="Quietus"] were counting).

“And why, pray tell,” she began as she drew the bow again, “is this better than using guns?”

Her question was punctuated by a quick hiss, followed by another thud when the arrow hit its mark as well.

“They’re faster, more accurate, and far deadlier. There are even types that don’t make noise! Why resort to… to this?”

 

[Quietus]

These savage instruments provide a greater test of your abilities and require much more finesse than guns. Guns are easy, this is not.

It was no secret that the Beastia was not a fan of guns, which was not to say she'd never used them. She had and could, but much like the Jedi typically chose their lightsabers over blasters, Quietus would always choose her own crafted bow over a mechanical weapon.

Besides, it's tradition, she gave a toothy grin, Tribe children are taught to to make and hunt with a bow and arrow starting at the age of 6. They can out-hunt and out-shoot some of the best and most battle-hardened soldiers on Onderon.

 

[Aver Brand]

“I see,” she muttered and shot the Beastia a look as sharp as the point of the arrow she was notching. “But I also see you haven’t fought a war in a long time. Expending unnecessary effort will only get you killed.”

Unceremoniously, Aver sent a fourth arrow sailing towards the target. It wasn’t like shooting with a bow didn’t have entertainment value; quite the opposite, really. The mercenary was rather… disported, truthfully, and the noise the projectiles made when they hit home was quite satisfying, all in all.

Still, she was ever the pragmatist.

“You mock me now,” she spoke darkly, “but you won’t be laughing when an invading force comes to seize your jungles. And these,” the woman held up another arrow, “will be about as effective as insect bites are to a drexl. Or skreev. One of those.”

“The galaxy moved on for a reason, [member="Quietus"].” For a moment, she met those sparkling green eyes before averting her gaze with a sigh, releasing the string again with an audible twang.

 

[Quietus]

How many insurgent rebellions and galactic invasions do you think I've fended off from this planet? The Beastia gave Aver a pointed glance, I've fought in 500 years worth of wars and battles here and elsewhere, Aver, Quietus reminded the much younger woman, nonplussed, and the galaxy moved on long before your great-great-great ancestors were even born. I am well aware, but I am also aware of the worth and purpose of tradition.

It is maintained out here, in these jungles, for reasons.

She glanced to the target, lofting a brow, Stop complaining, you're actually pretty good.

 

[Aver Brand]

Concealed by the veil of her damp hair, Aver allowed herself a small smirk. The Beastia had risen to the bait just as she’d hoped, and now her sharp lilt echoed around her skull.

It was a… unique experience.

“I’m not complaining,” the woman pointed out with that same chit-eating grin, casting a look her way over her shoulder. “I’m debating. There’s a difference.”

“And of course I’m good,” she added as she turned back to the task at hand. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a natural born killer. Monsters, you see, are innately proficient in murder.” Aver’s voice lost some of its mirth with the last words that left her mouth, but the change in inflection was likely drowned out by the sound of another arrow set loose. By now, the target already looked like a pin cushion of a particularly vindictive grandma, and the night was still young.

“Gonna elaborate on those reasons?”

 

[Quietus]

The Beastia's gaze slowly panned back to Aver.

Gonna hit a bullseye?