You're Not Her

[Razelle Breuner]

Razelle's eyebrows reached a state of decidedly unimpressed glower. "That's a pretty blunt way of putting it," she replied simply, her tone flat. "I haven't asked anyone about it, but I've done a little reading. I think the problem was that the backup they made was centuries old. There was bound to be some degeneration at that point." Honestly, she'd known for a while that her mindset wasn't exactly healthy. That was why she'd been taking steps to change it. She'd made some genuine progress, too, before her primary stressor showed up on her doorstep and the very first word out of her mouth opened an old wound she still hadn't healed.

But then, like...big questions. "I guess you really haven't heard much, huh?" Raz reached down to her pockets, pulled out a small rectangular box, and tapped it once from the bottom. From the top, she pulled a stimstick and a lighter, and one quick flick later, had a lovely little cherry of cinders burning away. A long drag and slow stream of smoke was all she needed to get her nerves under control. "...Alright then. From the top." The air around her smelled a little like burnt mint coffee.

"I first met Nessarose deWinter when I was on the run. 'From what' doesn't matter anymore." Her tone and expression were both carefully neutral, and as she leaned back on one hand, her eyes only met the sky. No eye contact this time. "We left, jumped on her ship, and zipped off to some nowhere speck I'd never even heard of. She called it 'Endelaan.' Bunch of primitive meat-people, hunting with spears and listening to shamans."

Another long drag. A cloud of herbal nonsense blew off into the atmosphere. Easy there, Raz. "She was incredible. Solid teflon; it didn't matter what happened or how bad it got, she was always bright and bubbly. Like none of it mattered. Everything came to her so easily, and I'm not gonna lie...she was easy to like." Finally, her expression soured. Not rage or hate or frustration, not panic like before. Legitimate pain. "Real easy to like."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

A blunt way of putting it?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" Scherezade mumbled over her own words. Wasn't that the translation of the motion Razelle had made earlier? Tapping your head to indicate your crazy? Or was that just one of those things that only the people who had it could talk about? She really hadn't meant to insult her in any way and now-

Now there was something she could do! "I've been delving deep into gene study and cloning tech and all of that stuff because of reasons. If you want, not right now, but down the line, if you ever trust me enough, I could take a look at what's happening in your body and see if there's something I can do on my end to fix it. Can't promise anything, but just a peek might see if it's something that can get fixed at all."

Now she was practically beaming. At last, she was able to be of some use to someone who wasn't her sister!

But yes, from the top. Though Scherezade did make a face when Raz started smoking. She had her own vices, but smoking just pricked all wrongly at her nose. She truly loathed that smell. However, she was not about to say anything, just make sure she was… Upwind? Downwind? The direction of the wind that meant the smoke would not reach her.

The tale Raz began to unfold had Scherezade silenced pretty quickly though. All she knew of her mother was the memories she had as a baby… And the memories her grandmother had burned into her mind, which by now she knew not to trust. To hear someone who was actually there… Who had actually witnessed it…

Ye to hear how her mother handled problems, how she knew how to behave like none of it mattered… The sadness was all too easy to see on Scherzade's face. She was nothing like that. She could never be anything like that. She looked like her mother. And that was where it ended.

"How did she hurt you?" Scherezade found herself whispering, looking at Raz and a face that probably mirrored her own, "what happened between the two of you?"

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Shaking her head, Raz reached up with her free hand and fixed her ponytail. "Nothing happened between us." Another long drag as she looked back up. She tapped the ashes off the tip of the stick, even as fatigue-blocking chemicals took hold in her body. Calming her...which was a bit ironic for a stimulant. "A lot of people loved her. As a queen, as family, and..." Another pause. "...But she only ever had eyes for your father."

Dio wasn't as fresh on Raz's mind. She hadn't interacted with him as much. She wasn't an authority. "Her 'kingdom,' if you could call it that, was a world full of mud savages. It took us years to turn it into something to be proud of. Years that we spent spreading our name - our 'influence' - across a very quiet galaxy." She frowned, eyes narrowing. "Very dark. People like to use the words 'dark times' pretty freely, but this...this qualified. It was quiet because someone had won, but it was like reading a book after the last chapter." That the someone who won had been the Sith probably hadn't helped things. At all.

Scherezade was a deWinter. She had the whole Force thing going on. Raz made eye contact. "And the epilogue is real kind to people like you. The rest of us don't have it so easy."

Anyway. "Anyway. Nothing happened between your mother and me. I sweat for her, I bled for her, and apparently I died for her. And nothing happened between us." She took another long drag, then tossed the mostly-burned butt to one side. "You've got more questions. I'll answer whatever I can. Whatever I know the answers to."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade was quietened again. A lot of people loved her mother, but she only had eyes for her father. That had been exactly what she had been wanting for herself; not the lot of people bit, that she could do without, but the eyes for… Instead all she had faced was betrayal, hurt, mockery. Everyone had loved her mother, but no one had loved Scherezade. It had been part of what had broken her down so badly that she had ended up trying to kill herself by blood magic and instead ended up transporting herself to the space between dimensions.

Then came the part about the kingdom. About Endelaan. Scherezade didn't know much about the Sanguine Po… Pot-something. Her grandmother had not been interested in it enough to even remember what it was called, and the name was not mentioned around her when she was a baby, not that she could remember, anyway.

But when Raz said that epilogues were kind to people like her, Scherezade frowned. "Stop saying that!" she not-yelled at her, "the only kindness I've known was back when you and I were both on Endelaan. The day that ended was a day that opened a door into centuries of very conscious misery."

Nothing happened between Raz and her mother? Frankly, it sounded like a load of crap. Scherezade hadn't meant anything romantic or sexual – simply a story of their friendship.

"Why did you die for her?" came the next couple of questions, "how did you die for her?"

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Huh?

...Right. This girl wasn't all the Sith in the galaxy. Razelle's face softened into something resembling an apology, and she shook her head. "You're right." Every time something went wrong, it was so easy to blame anyone with any modicum of mystical whatsit. It wasn't all of them who ruined the galaxy for their own advancement. It wasn't all of them who drafted millions to die in religious wars for things they didn't believe in. It wasn't Scherezade. "You're right. It wasn't you. You've probably been hurt as much as anyone. Wasn't right to single you out like that."

The blonde sighed, and she shook her head. "I've been doing this a long time, kiddo. Longer than I knew your mom. Two lifetimes. Sometimes, you get cynical. You look for someone to point at." She lifted up a finger to point at nothing in particular. Her tone got harsh. "That is the source of all of my problems. That is why my life is meaningless. Never mind all of my own decisions that led to it."

Looking back over, she tried a little smile. "I'd like to say I remembered, but I don't. I don't remember anything after Kamino. I don't remember dying, or what happened to Endelaan, or where anyone went. I don't remember you, or...your brother, I guess." Shrugging, she frowned a bit. "I guess it'd be more accurate to say that I never did any of that. I'm a flawed copy of a twisted, broken sociopath who willingly gave her life to a cult of personality that doesn't exist anymore, and wound up causing every problem you've ever known."

Raz sighed and let her head rest in her hands. A few seconds of mope became a few seconds of rage, which eventually led to her smashing her hands to either side of her, into the grass. "Rrgh! And it was all pointless!"

Compose yourself, Breuner. Chin up. Eyes forward. The moody blonde turned to look at the girl who looked so much like Nessa, but...well, at least wasn't completely like her. She didn't know her well enough to say for sure. But what she did know about her was that she hadn't known her parents long enough to learn any of this, and considering there were no other deWinters running around, she'd had to scrape by on her own. Not worthy of rage. Not worthy of frustration. In need of help. Okay Raz. Stretch those empathy muscles.

"...Where's your head at now, sugar?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade was left blinking. Usually, when she pointed things like that out, the other side's response was to just rip into her, to try to make her feel even worse for things that were either not entirely her fault, were not her fault at all, or came in response to things that were done first and had been much worse to her. The mere fact that Razelle sort of apologized was enough to send the woman into a stunned silence.

Razelle continued and now Scherezade wasn't just stunned, but also sort of lost. Was it the need to point fingers that was the source of Razelle's problems? Or living two lifetimes and becoming cynical as a result? But, why did it mean her life was meaningless?

And while it was all supposed to be mightily confusing to her, Scherezade got it. The lack of direction, the quilt of traumas. In many ways, Razelle was a force-less and more experienced version of her. The mere thought of being like that X time from now, talking like that, feeling like that. It terrified her. And it made her scared for Razelle as well.

It was not that Scherezade had a bleeding heart for almost anyone. True, her heart often bled. Yet Razelle was someone who had been loved by her parents; loved enough that they let her near their babies, loved enough to keep her around. While this Razelle might have thought she was a damaged copy, she was still someone influenced and affected deeply, to this day, but events that had transpired nearly a millennia ago, events that still had their hold on Scherezade too. Perhaps Scherezade was being presumptuous, but it almost sounded like they were somehow tied together for reasons neither would fully understand any time soon.

And then Razelle asked her where her head was at.

Scherezade looked at her, not answering immediately.

"What makes you think you caused problems?" she asked at last after a long silence, "from the way you describe it… It sounds like problems were more like caused to you."

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

There was no hesitation this time. No pause. No uncertainty. Raz shook her head, brought up both legs to hug her knees against her chest, and rested her chin on them. "I don't make excuses. Everything I've been through, I had a hand in." But she'd almost let it be about her again. This kid was asking her about things important to her life. Raz's own past was incidental. Direct yourself. Take stock of your situation, your assets, and find the point of greatest impact.

Her head craned a bit, looking to the girl next to her. Nessa, but younger. Younger, alone, and somehow still a sweetheart. But then, she wasn't Nessa. She asked, and she cared. She carried her own weight, didn't specialize. For the first time since she'd seen Domino, Razelle had someone who was connected to her life as it had been, but for this one, that connection only carried confusion and grief.

The kid. Her kid. The kid that she would have held, and cooked for, and sang to...

Raz frowned, cocked her mouth to one side, then swallowed her frustration and forced her thoughts out through her mouth. "Hey. I'm really bad at this whole...like...family thing. Would it be weird to go for a hug right now?" If she had been more conscious of her own mind, she'd probably be either surprised or proud of how not afraid she was at the moment. Not worried for her own safety, or expecting a dagger in the back or a sniper on the horizon. She'd probably realize it later, but at the moment it was swept up in the maelstrom that was Razelle Bruener's mind.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade nodded. Sounded exactly like her. She had a hand in all the krak that happened to her as well. A lot of it wasn't really her fault, but it hadn't happened in a vacuum. And the way she reacted, or responded… She never knew if it was indeed her fault, like she was to blame for everything the way other insisted, or… It was confusing. So confusing. Even after a year and some. Coming out of the pebble hadn't come with a manual. It had come with manipulation, and being a pawn, and being used, time and time and time again.

But then Razelle asked a question, and the look on Scherezade's face was once again overly easy to read; confusion, loneliness, surprise. They all mingled together and she sat there, her mouth ever so slightly open, like a duck about to be trampled.

"Family?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper, quivering.

Aside for Madalena, who was a very recent addition, Scherezade de-facto had no family. Her mother was gone, her father was missing, Josh said that her brother just wanted to hurt her and she could not find him anywhere, her grandmother wanted her suffering, and while she did have an aunt and a cousin (and an uncle), she rarely to never saw any of them as they were all too busy with their own lives. In all essence, Scherezade's family existed only on paper, and not in her life.

And now there was one sitting so close to her, one whose connection was not one of blood, and she spoke of family. A major thing Scherezade had wanted in her life, but never seemed to have. And from all Scherezade knew, Razelle was family. She was there when she was a baby, so there had to be a reason. Her parents let her near her and let her hold her, and Razelle had her own nickname that was so often used that Scherezade had never known it wasn't really her name. What else could it be if not family that was not related by blood, but by choice?

Those thoughts flashed through the girl's head in a matter of nanoseconds, and a moment later, her arms were wrapped around Razelle, her head buried atop of her chest. She wasn't sure when she'd started, but she was crying right now, realizing she was hugging someone out of her own free will.

Razelle did not know. Couldn't know, because Scherezade had not told her how she regarded personal space, how she almost removed limbs from her friends when they tried to hug her, how the only person she'd willingly let get close time after time had betrayed her and hurt her and nudged her to do some of the most terrible things she'd done.

She didn't need to know.

Scherezade just hugged her, not really wanting to let go, but knowing she would release her the first second she thought Razelle had had enough.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

It's astounding how quickly every bit of uncertainty and chaos and pain and doubt can be whisked behind the curtain for one, single, crystallizing understanding. One fact. She never got to see this little glitterbug before. She never had the chance to hear her or hold her. All of that, all of those memories Scherezade had...those were someone else. A life long since gone. More unidentifiable dust in the infinite tomb of galactic history. But if Razelle had ever needed any validation (and she absolutely did) that she was the same woman that had laid down on a cloning bed centiries ago, all she'd ever have to do was remember this moment.

Her hands came up to rest gently on Scherezade's back. Firm. Warm. She gripped a little tighter, tugging at the girl's shirt as if to try to get a more secure hold. "Shh," came a surprisingly lucid response. "Shh. You're alright." Without even thinking, she placed her lips in a mess of brown hair and gave the top of the green-eyed little wreck's head a quick kiss. "We're alright." Cheek to head. Arms tight. Not letting go.

Something fundamental had flicked on in Raz's psyche. Something primal. Yeah, sure, maybe it was genetic coding, or chemical tailoring, or Force conditioning, or whatever. It didn't matter. Right now, there was exactly one thing that mattered in the whole blasted galaxy. One thing that felt right. A piece that she'd been missing. Perfect fit. Maybe it was a soul thing or a Force thing or some other mystic mumbo bullshit. It didn't matter. Two lifetimes of blood and sweat and tears. Empty smiles and hollow praise. Cast off like a spent mag. Burning her every aspiration and dream in effigy, all for what? What had she done any of it for?

This.

This.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Razelle held her like no other person ever had, drawing more tears from Scherezade, joined by loud sobs and some sniveling. Perhaps it was juvenile, perhaps it was childish, but Scherezade didn't care. Hat moment, being held by Razelle, someone who her mother and father, it meant everything, and there was nothing about it that she could even verbalize.

"Please…" Scherezade… asked? Begged? She wasn't sure. It came after several long minutes of crying against Razelle, being comforted by her, and now she pushed herself a little bit up. Some girls were born to cry, pretty tears decorating porcelain skin. Scherezade was most definitely not one of those girls; her eyes and cheeks had all gone red and puffy, her sniffling keeping nose fluids from running down from her nose.

"Please don't leave me. Please be a part of my life," she said, wiping her face on the back of her hand, "Live your life and do with it what you want just… Just let me meet you every now and then… We can hunt or I can cook for you or anything else just please… Please don’t leave me…"

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

It would be really poor form to laugh. Razelle smiled instead. Scherezade was at the perfect angle for a nose boop, and a nose boop did she receive. "You don't have to bargain, kiddo." She shook her head. "You don't have to convince me. I'm not going anywhere." Not for now, at least. It was a helluva promise to make for someone who did a better job at disappearing than she did at...anything else, really. She couldn't promise, or plan for the future, but she could plan for right now. And right now...she needed to give this girl the childhood she never had.

One eyebrow raised, she inclined her head briefly towards the pile of firewood. "What you should do, though, is help me start this fire. I'm starving. Feel like I could eat a whole acklay."

How the balls was she going to do this? How was she going to balance a life of safety and quiet with...this? She didn't doubt Scherezade could take care of herself. Most forcies could. But coming back to see her again and again, keeping contact on a permanent basis...that all left a paper trail. It made her easier to track. Made her more vulnerable. If someone was looking for her, she'd be a sitting duck.

But no one was looking for her. No one had been looking for her for years now. She'd deserted three different militaries, been involved in a galactic crime ring, and had a bounty put out on her head and still no one was looking for her. Maybe it was just luck. Maybe she was missing the signs. There were a lot of possibilities. Right now, not a lot of them really mattered. For what had to have been the second or third time in recent memory...Raz wasn't worried about that.

She started piling up a small pyramid of logs. One stuck in the center, the rest carefully piled around it in ascending size. A proper, basic campfire. Standing back to admire her work, the blonde clone also took a moment to admire Scherezade. Taller than her, actually. Not scrawny, either. If she'd had a rough life, it hadn't been so rough that she hadn't been eating. That was good, at least.

"Your turn. Tell me about you." The voice of a woman with a huge weight off her shoulders.
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

I'm not going anywhere. Scherezade smiled from ear to ear, looking painfully obviously relieves at hearing those words, and she leaned forward to give Razelle another hug before nodding her head. She was sure she'd started the fire before, but while they'd been talking, it had gone out, and now Razelle was building another pile.

Smiling, Scherezade pulled a lighter from her pocket. "The fire that burns, Mother Nature’s domain," the words came out of her quickly, "It is great power that I require now. Give me the power over the flames, guide them to where I aim." On call, the flame of the lighter burst out into and shaped itself into an arrow, flying lazily into the pile that Razelle had built. And then another one. And another one. Within seconds, the fire was going, hot and cozy and wonderful, and Scherezade nodded with satisfaction. She'd never really learned how to control fire to the degree of being able to create it out of nothing; but she could control what she could do with existing flames. She also knew how to start a fire while being severed from the Force, but that wasn't something she wanted to do right now.

And then Razelle wanted Schereade to tell her about herself, and Scherezade's face visibly sank.

"I remember Endelaan," she said quietly, finding a small branch that she started to cut at with her knife, needing her hands to do something, "I remember sunshine and Brayden and my parents and you and a few others. And then everything went dark, because I was inside the Darkness. And at first it was all right because I knew Brayden was with me, but then he disappeared, and I was still inside the Darkness, still a baby, but still aware of time. I passed seven hundred years like that."

Sighing, Scherezade threw away the stick with more than a little annoyance. "And then little over a year ago, my grandmother came into that Darkness and put her hand against my forehead. She branded a bunch of her memories into my brain, but they all ended slightly before the Gulag virus. When I opened my eyes I was on Ryloth, and in a grown up body that I could barely control."

Picking up another piece of wood, she continued to hack at it, "and I've been drawing the short straws on everything ever since," she said, unable to hide the bitterness, "the Confederacy viewed me as a liability even though I went on more missions than anyone else and delivered every time. They laughed at me, made fun of me, mocked me. Within two hours of existing again I was indoctrinated into the Mandragora without anyone ever bothering to tell me I had a choice, or what the price was. The witch adopted me as a sister but then when I was murdered or almost murdered by a Jedi, the man I loved and my sister decided they were going to be together. They decided that while standing next to my body, while I was in coma, but actually in the Darkness again, trying to fight off years of torture that I underwent there. I taught him how to be free and built a key to save his entire species but that still wasn't good enough for any of them to just take a pause and wait for me to wake up and tell me before… Before they finalized their choices."

I broke. I drank. I almost died for the Confederacy numerous times but it was still not enough. People offered to help me but as a price demanded I would kill the former sister and the man that I still love, and I couldn't do that. I ended up trying to kill myself. Instead I was transported to the space between dimensions, and the woman who walked inside my body was someone I thought I had designed to just have a happier life but then it turned out I'd summoned her from another dimension. She has her own body now. I used one of the embryos my parents had and gave her a body, and she's my sister. My real sister. Not the one that pretended to be one. I know Brayden is alive, but I don't know where he is or why he's disappeared again. I've never seen him – only Madalena has.

Madalena… Madalena is the one who's most like mom. She's the one who can walk into a room and smile and everybody will love her just for that. Me… I don't get that. I know I have the looks, but that's more or less where it all ends. I'm not liked. I'm not loved. And I'm the first female in the family to be a Warrior rather than a Sorceress. And I can't go back to Endelaan."

Scherezade sighed. That was... A very shortened version of the events that had plagued her since coming out of that stupid pebble. And now Razelle might probably want to carefully step back and leave her, as most people did.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Most people weren't really good or bad listeners. They heard most of what someone said and started thinking up questions before they were done, or heard it all but didn't engage back. Raz was in the latter camp. Scherezade had had a pretty eventful life. Not necessarily fun, either. But then, that was the galaxy. Shit happened. Lots of it, frankly, and it wasn't ever fair or right. She didn't feel the need to recite her own traumas again, or to try to spin perspective on Scherezade's problems.

"But you're here," the shorter woman replied. "And you're functional. You can walk. You can make a fire. You can hunt acklays, and cry, and scream." She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow, offering a little, wry grin. "All that, and you've still survived. Right?" The question turned out to be rhetorical, since Raz answered it with a nod and kept going. "That's all anyone can ever hope for. You're still standing. Still fighting."

Crouching down into a Moscow squat next to the starting fire, she looked up at Scherezade. "So I guess...I'm proud of you." Well that was weird to say. She'd never been proud before, much less of anyone else. Without any frame of reference she...really didn't know how to feel about it. It was quickly becoming quite clear just how much of Raz's perspective needed to be readdressed if she was gonna be...

...Actually, what was she? Huh. New top question of the day.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She was here. But… Could she truly say it was because she wanted to? Others had wanted to bring her back, had no qualms about destroying Madalena in the process. Eventually she'd asked the man she still loved to bring her back, told him how it could be done. Could it actually be called survival? When she had attempted to kill herself, but was eventually returned only because she'd even managed to screw suicide up?

But Razelle was… proud of her? Again the confusion was visible on her face. Was it genuine? Yeah, she couldn't taste and dishonesty through the Force, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Scherezade leaned forward, resting her forehead on Razelle's shoulder for a brief moment. Razelle was most likely speaking the truth. Maybe she had low standards or something like that, considering she'd had her share of personal traumas as well.

"I hope I don't manage to undo that," she admitted out loud, "and I'm glad you still exist."

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Raz nodded and stood up, taking out her stim carton again and lighting one up on the newly developing fire. "I guess I am, too. I'm glad I exist." Cocking her head to one side, the bedraggled, frayed, malfunctioning clone of a dead traitor smiled at the ghost of the woman she'd loved unto the grave. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have met you, Sher-..." Stopping a moment, she frowned in concentration and a little confusion. "Alright. Sorry. Help me out with this one. Sherizade?"

Well that sort of undercut the dignity of the moment. She was pouring her heart out here, compromising every second of safety and solitude she'd been trying to achieve, and she couldn't even get the girl's name right. The one creature in the galaxy whose life added something to her own. Gods, that was just a cruel joke. "Sorry," she offered again in a supremely disappointed tone, taking a drag from her stimstick.

Well. She'd get it this time. Definitely.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

In some aspects, perhaps, it was true that Scherezade was indeed very child-like. A moment ago, she'd been crying, begging Razelle not to leave her. The next moment she'd somewhat calmed down and told her she was glad she still existed. And then Razelle confessed and apologized to not remembering her name, and that sent Scherezade laughing; a good deep roll, that came from the depths of her stomach and demanded a few moments before she calmed down.

"Scherezade," she repeated her name, "Sche-reh-zah-day."

It was almost hilarious how people still had issues with her name. Today was not the first time she'd had to repeat it, and it was past experience that had taught her the need to break it down into simple syllables.

"They used to call be pebble as well, on account of the centuries I spent being inside one," she shrugged, "but that stopped when I started responding with violence. I'm not anyone's pebble. It was a dumb nickname."

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Oh thank gods, she was laughing. Razelle had been legitimately worried that was the sort of thing that'd upset her. Gave a slow nod, took a drag of antisombulants, and closed her eyes pensively. "Scherezade," she repeated. "Got it. That's a tricky one." She'd need to find something to shorten that to. Or, y'know. Avoid it entirely. At least she wasn't still calling her Nessa.

Right. Next topic. She picked up one of the skewers they'd managed to arrange and jabbed it through the shelled, still-raw acklay meat. Crab-like, with some actual tendons. Weird biology, but what were you going to do? "So, how d'you like your lizard-crab-monster? I'm a fan of medium. Pink's fine, but red meat's too much in large quantities." There were a few ways that Razelle wasn't an iron-pumping, speeder-obsessed, beer-drinking Huttball hooligan. Meat was one of them. Still. She was already making plans for dragging Fable and maybe Walker to a barbecue to introduce them to her new...

...uh...kid.

That was gonna take some work to puzzle through.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade nodded and smiled as Razelle got her name right. It wasn't so tricky once you got used to it. Just more syllables than what most Core people were used to saying in a name. If Razelle wanted hard pronunciation names, Scherezade was more than certain that the Chiss could provide her with ample opportunities for that.

"Usually I just sear it," she shrugged innocently, "I know about the dangers and stuff, I just never really worry about it. Blood can't hurt me. I think."

Sitting back down, Scherezade looked at the flames. "But if you'd prefer it, you can make it as done as needed to be to stay on the safe side. Just please, don't well-done it. I'd hate to have to need to kill you."

Her tone was light. Joking. She hoped Raz wouldn't take it personally and think she was going to really kill her.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

With a little chuckle, Raz shook her head and poked the skewer she was roasting bug-lizard meat over. "Cute," she replied simply.

After a couple of minutes, her meat was warm enough that she didn't expect she'd catch any animal-to-human STDs, and she gave it a quick tear. Not awful. A little like lemon and bleach on shark steak. Another bite and a slow drag later, she took a seat again and leaned back to look at the midday sky. "So. Confederacy. That what you're doing now?" After a moment, she shrugged and smiled, taking her burnt stim out of her lips and tossing it into the fire. "I won't judge. I've done that and worse."

The way she talked about it, though, it wasn't easy, and it wasn't safe. The last thing Raz wanted was the last link she had to her old life dying in a muddy swamp somewhere. The easiest way to die was to go it alone (kinda hypocritical of her to think like that, sure, but it was true), and now that she found her... Razelle had no interest in letting Scherezade kill herself like that. But how to broach that topic?

"Need some help?" Sure. We'll try the direct way. Gods, why was she so bad at talking to people?

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Cute. Scherezade grinned and sat down next to Raz, taking a piece of meat. She'd never had acklay before, and was surprised by just how much she liked it as soon as her taste buds got some of that. Perhaps taking three legs was too little – or alternatively, she could kill another acklay later and take it to her ship. If she was smart enough about how she cut it up, there'd be space for everything in the freezer, or so she hoped.

To the question of the Confederacy, she just nodded. "That's where the witch was, in a key leadership position. I stayed because I knew nothing of the galaxy at large. My grandmother's memories weren't even relevant when it came to what governments existed and what the options were. And then… I guess I still don't know much about what's outside of it, other than that I might be called to come remove its presence off a planet. I'm sort of good at that. Really good. But no one really cares."

Sighing, Scherezade took another big bite from her acklay leg. "What about you?" she asked between the bites, "Like, do you belong with any of the big players? Are you doing your own thing? Do you have enemies I need to kill?"

[member="Razelle Breuner"]