Turkey

[Ashla Vella]

Another frozen prisoner turned in, Ashla had been hopping around in Confederacy space. Skipping along the crowded street of Golbah City, it was good day for her. Hunting down people was fun for her. It was a stimulant that fed her needs in life. The large ricks, close to death at some moments, and the real use of her guns were what she was needing compare to the life she had on her people’s drifting ships. There was a time that life on the ships was exciting, but now the hunt was so more fulfilling.

Along with the skipping, the happy Ashla was singing to herself too. It was nothing particular just an old song in Paecean that came from Dathomir about rancors and hunting. In her mind it fit to how she felt. Although after a bit her singing was stopped, but it was not from a person. There were looks that were given when she skipped by. This was a growl from her. Her stomach decided to sing its own song.

Ashla stopped to see what was around her. Stomach’s song was a little of bit of a downer so she knew a cantina would be near. It was a large city with lots of people after all. It took a little walking. She did find one and told her stomach, “See? I found the foodz, so stop singing now, okay?” Ashla adjusted her Ewok fur coat that hind her left arm and the rest of her outfit. A steampunk design outfit, featuring a black bodysuit with plunging neckline and zip front closure, faux leather brown glovelette with long fringe detail and faux leather belt with matching fringe that held her baggy black pants.

Adding before entering, “And you are sooooo spoiled too.” Which her stomach growled back. Ashla looked around for a spot. Finding a place to sit down which happen to be a stool, she of course had to spin around before doing anything.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade had needed a break. After jumping from mission to mission, followed by jumping from business meeting to business meeting, the Sithling had needed something new, something refreshing, something rarely to never done before.

So naturally, she went to a cantina. Because that was as unique and original as you got in a galaxy far, far away.

Sliding into a booth, Scherezade pressed a few buttons on her holodevice. Anyone who was interested would now be able to see it – a holo of war turkeys running around from place to place on the table, screaming their gobble gobble's around. It was a recording from her battle on Mandalore not too long ago, where she had actually faced those things.

Granted, she'd faced them for half a second and from a distance, because by then the dome had collapsed and she was whisked off planet to go do other things with a certain dude, but it still counted.

And she wanted to learn more about the usage of those animals. Were they truly as chaotic and pattern-less as she thought they were? She had to study them, maybe look through the holonet to see if there was more footage or other forms of information. She also took mental notes about the armor that they were wearing, knowing she wanted something that could beat it in the eternal game of rock-paper-scissors.

So focused was she on it, that she almost missed the woman who'd entered and sat on a nearby stool.

The holo-turkeys froze.

Scherezade looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

[member="Ashla Vella"]

 

[Ashla Vella]

Spinning was fun, round and round was simple act, but it was always the simple things in life that made life so good. For Ashla, it was spinning with her air ways being filled with awful odors. Still there was sweet smell of food. Scent that was easy to pick out and hold on to while spinning like a record.

Ashla only stopped to order food and drink which made her stomach happy. It could now stop the complaining about loneness and the empty existence it was experiences. She would be happy once the emptiness was filled. For now, happiness was about to come from spinning again; however, that was stopped in mid push. Frozen holo and woman looking at her would make anyone to settle down and apologize for their behavior.

Instead, Ashla gave Scherezade a big bright smile and her name. The happiest tone lept from her towards Scherezade when she spoke. It was like a hyper sugar with a light glaze of caffeine. “I’m called Ashla Vella.” She looked at the holo closer and added, “Are you an active animal hunter?”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The big bright smile took Scherezadeby surprise and she froze in place, looking at the woman. Somewhat envying her. With that big bright smile, the woman, Ashla, as she introduced herself, was oozing heaps and heaps of what Scherezade had lost when she was betrayed by all those she knew, and had never been able to quiet get back – freedom. Smiles like that used to be painted on her face all the time. But they'd been lost for a year, and she never managed to find them again.

And all she could do was just smile back. Not as brightly. Not as widely. But she was smiling back.

"Warrior," she explained, "This is footage from the last war I was in. The enemy sent war turkeys at me. I was hoping that by studying them, I could learn and become better, and next time defeat my enemy rather than have to make an emergency evacuation because a whole dome is busy falling on my head."

But it had been fun. There had been that battle, and then the time spent with…

"I'm Scherezade," she introduced herself, "Scherezade deWinter. I'm with the Confederacy."

[member="Ashla Vella"]

 

[Ashla Vella]

Ashla hopped from her stool. Like others before Scherezade, arms wrapped around and the hyper woman gave the warrior a hug. Then she was back on her stool like nothing happen and she had been sitting there with her big smile. A spin on the stool was given while repeating Scherezade’s introduction. “Scherezade… Scherezade deWinter… well nice to meet you.”

Once the stool stopped and she could face Scherezade, there was a little squirming on the seat. It was really more bouncing in place. As if there was a catchy energic song playing while a squee slipped out. Following that, words of non-repeat form continued, “I’m not with the Confederacy… I’m of house Vella in the Forgotten Clan. We don’t stay in place like the Confederacy so I don’t get to be a warrior like you and fight turkeys.”

A pause quickly followed, and all movement stop. Ashla looked off into the distance with a tilted head. Then suddenly like someone put new batteries into her, she sprung back to life with the motions and tone. “Well… they are turkeys in some sense but not animal turkeys like that holo. But I bet it was sooooo cool to fight in that war. All those blasters and fighting… I wish could have been there. All I got was days and days of training then kicked off the ships so I can help the Clan with stuff on the outside. Always duty, I get it and stuff, but I want to be able to do some fun things that isn’t work related. Since it is always about getting supplies to survive and plot our revenge. Always plot, plot, plot… we could have gone back centuries ago or even now. Bbuuttt nooooo… elders are stuck in their dumb way. If I was leading, I so be like ‘Hi Dathomir remember the Great Desert Clan, no? Oh surprise won’t forget us now’… pew, pew, pew, pew and all dead”

Ashla spun around, giggling, and kicking into the air a little. Then stopped as she stared right at Scherezade with a straight face. “Sorrry… I forget people like to talk too.” She was sorry and she knew she carried away. Still, more words spilled out laced the energy of before and big smile. “Like the turkeys were fun to fight? How many you killed? Were they tasty? Were there others fighting with the turkeys or all smart turkeys that started the war? OH! Did they gobble gobble when killing people?”

Questions would have kept rolling out, but the first course of food came out. Ashla did not wait and started to shovel it into her mouth while not breaking eye contact with Scherezade for answers.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The girl had given her a hug. Scherezade froze, blinking. Usually, when people did that to her, especially without a warning, she tended to stab the heck out of them. No one touched her. She did not like to be touched. And yet instead of stabbing her, she found herself frozen in place. Only when her senses returned to her, too many seconds later, did she clear her throat. "No touching," she warned her, moving her leg in a way that would let her feel the edge of one of the knives she had hidden beneath her clothes, letting it comfort her.

Not of the Confederacy, but a… Lost Clan? What was that? She didn't have any of the classic Dathomiri markings, so she couldn't be a Witch from there. Her skin wasn't blue, so Firrerreo was also out of the question. Scherezade soon stopped guessing; there were an endless number of planets that had Clan life on them, her own home planet included. She was never going to puzzle without more hints.

She listened to the girl rambling on and on about things she was having a hard time following. Blasters, turkeys, clans, outside. She thought, for a split of a moment, that she did understand her after all – duty, sent by her clan, probably to find ways for them to thrive or survive, or, since they'd called themselves the Forgotten Clan, to see if they could return home?

And there it was. A mention of Dathomir.

"Wait," she said, holding a hand. "What do you mean, Dathomir?"

The food arrived, and Ashla began to eat. Now, Scherezade grinned, despite her Dathomir-related suspicions. Food was always good. She ate as well.

[member="Ashla Vella"]

 

[Ashla Vella]

Oh food, the organic matter that can only silence a grumpy empty stomach. Fingers dug into the food and was stuffed into Ashla’s mouth as if someone was coming to take it away in a minute. It was a bad habit from years of training in her clan. There was a time that a member could attack another at any time. The twisted idea in their training was to keep them ready for anything. Ashla only learned to eat like a savage.

Even with food in her mouth, it did not mean to finish chewing and swallow before speaking. She treated it more of a challenge to see if she could speak with a full mouth. With the grace of a kid trying to run through a doorway and smacking into glass, Ashla tried to turn, remove half of her fur coat, and speak to Scherezade. There was a slip from her stool and some food falling out of her mouth. “Dathomir… home of the evil clans like Singing Mountain, Nightsisters, Death, Frenzied River, Great Canyon, and more. They all exist as heretics.”

Adjusting her coat, blue sewn Kwi skin was exposed on her entire left arm. The patterns were random to be more artful. Ashla pulled a knife out and started to cut under a piece of the blue skin. Digging enough into the skin for her to peel it back, there were cravings on the underside of the blue skin and on top of her own. Every letter was clean and looked like they were just made minus the blood. Everything was written in Paecean. Ashla happily with food told Scherezade, “This is the entire history of Dathomir up to my clan’s exile and every known Dathomir spell that the heretics stole and places in books to call them theirs and more that they abandoned… Some Jedi shows up and ruins what it meant to be Dathomirian.”

Ashla sat back on her stool, finally. She gave it a spin for the joy. Then the skin was laid back in its proper place. There was a nervousness in her look as she reached in a pack on her belt. Pulling out a thick needle and leather looking string, she used talking to Scherezade as she sowed the skins together as a distraction. Only wincing every so from the pain. “That is what I mean by Dathomir… anyways… Like fun life of plotting revenge while being something like a merc on the other side of the galaxy. So asking about Dathomir… you know things about that place, hmm?”

The needle was pulled from the string and put away. The coat did not go back on to hide her arm. More food needed to disappear like magic. The savage acts returned to stuff the food in. Making big chewing action as she looked towards Scherezade.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

[member="Ashla Vella"]​

Scherezade shook her head. That wasn't what she'd meant by asking her to explain Dathomir. The planet itself, she knew – she had traveled there on a handful of occasions, and was sworn to destroy it if her family was found and united with her at the behest of [member="Petra Cavataio"], former mother of all clans or whatever had title had been. What she didn't understand was how this girl in front of her was part of any of it.

But then the girl cut her arm and the smell of blood almost overwhelmed Scherezade. Could she smell the Dathomiri in the blood's undertones? One moment she thought that yes, the next no. Human, or rather, near-human, was the only thing she was completely sure of; but that was a wide range of scents that could mean anything from almost anywhere, not something she could actually count on.

"Spells can be stolen?" she asked, blinking. She had never actually thought of it. Certainly, once, she had written a spell. Well, more than once, but once was a spell that had mattered enough that she still used it to this day – the spell of Night Sight.

Gathering herself as the girl began to sew herself up, the Sithling nodded.

"A bunch of things," she answered, the wheels inside her head working. The girl next to her… She was not going to call Ashla crazy. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't, but one thing was clear by her behavior and demeanor, and that was that she was not like most people. That made her a pariah, or, someone Scherezade wanted to get to know better. "Wanna go back there and steal some spells of theirs?" came the offer before she could actually think about it. But now that she did… Yes. It sounded like a wonderful opportunity.

 

[Ashla Vella]

Fingers dug in the food in front. Clawing each digit deeper to fill the small hand of the bubbly young woman, Ashla stuffed her mouth yet again. She chomped at the meats and paste that was mixed together. The chewing was a little larger than acceptable polite levels. It did not block out the interesting question and only allowed pieces of food to fall from her mouth.

With a bit of food on her chin, the gaze at the plate shifted back to Scherezade. Food still visible in her mouth, etiquette was lost to her. Slight muffle to her words, Ashla happily answer while using the moment to chew her food too. “Before the Jedi made the clans… We all made our own.” Chewing up a storm so her talking would not have food flying out. “Jedi ruined it all and those that followed that one saw no issue in stealing from others for the…” She lifted her hands to do air quotes, “… true followers.”

Then Ashla busted into laughter. It was almost strong enough to send her off the stool. “Then they whined about all the wars… the dumb chits didn’t even see they were the problem. Everything was fine before then. Damn, busy bees and their close mindedness.” Well, that was part of the dogma her clan taught her. Truth is always twisted to fit a group's desire. Then again, everyone knows that the goodie goods always started the drama since they could not leave everyone else alone. Not bothering them, and still, they poked their noses in people's business.

Grabbing more food to stuff her face, she added before refilling. “Pew pew them all to the grave.” Only to chew and laugh at the same.

Scherezade deWinter