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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2012 14:45:16 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Dec 16, 2012 14:45:16 GMT -5
When Spearpoint Headquarters had been put together by the contractors hired by Ethan Moreill, it had been constructed in the hopes of being a full-fledged military institution that could stay off the radar if need be. The original intention was for it to be filled with soldiers, sailors, and fringe; men and women in armor with guns and scores to settle.
Tonight, it played host to a 40-year-old Corellian in a suit, trying to fix his messy hair.
Horst still couldn't believe a number of things. For starters, he was amazed that he was in a suit; he'd gone into town a few days ago and hit up the tailor. Sure, he'd almost chewed the guy out thanks to a stray pin getting lodged in his thigh, and sure he still thought he'd gotten robbed on the price, but after cleaning up a little, he didn't look half bad.
He still looked absolutely ridiculous though. Imagine a shaven Wookie with a mess of ragged hair on its head in a black suit.
Rorry's laughin' his ass off in his grave.
The other unbelievable thing was that he'd actually managed to convince Ervisa to come back with him. Not only that, but she was his girlfriend? If anyone had told him that without his own experiencing it, he would have hit them upside the head for being stupid. The idea of him actually dating sort of amazed him; he was about as date-able as a boulder with hair...
But none of that mattered much tonight. It was their first date. Well, their first planned date, and Horst couldn't help but feel his stomach twist itself in every which way. The last real date he'd been on had been in high-school with Glaudia what'shername. She had been a nice enough girl, but it was just the two of them going out for some burgers and fries at the neighborhood diner.
Tonight Horst had booked them a table for two at The Glass Scale Shark; a classy joint in the richer part of Waypoint that mostly got business from the wealthier hunters coming to the planet that didn't care for the more basic, down-to-the-dirt grub served at the more common establishments. Horst honestly would have preferred going out to one of the stated common establishments, as the appeal in gourmet food was lost on him, but he wanted to choose a spot with a little class.
That, and the more proper atmosphere might get him to shut up every once and a while, which was always a good thing.
The Engineer tugged at his collar, his other hand grasping a bouquet of flowers he'd also gotten in town. Most of the flora was local, and so the smell reminded him of the jungle around them, only far sweeter and without that threat of death constantly being emanated from the wildlife. To be honest, were it not for the danger, Oatara would be a gorgeous place to live.
But Horst gulped, coming to stand outside of the door marked Lieutenant Therani. Tugging at his collar again, dislocating his crudely-tied tie, Horst knocked on the door.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2012 15:47:07 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 16, 2012 15:47:07 GMT -5
Ervisa Therani didn't know why she was so damn nervous, but she was. The Mirialan woman felt very uncertain as she looked at the final touches she'd made in the mirror.
Her normally unadorned face was now complemented by eye shadow, and her ears had small gold earrings. By far the biggest change was in her clothing. The quintessential tank top and utility pants were replaced with a little black dress, and her brown lace up boots were gone as well. Instead, the green-skinned woman was wearing stockings and a pair of high heels, which she still questioned her ability to walk in for more than a very short distance.
Her typical braid was still in place, but her hair was especially neat and shiny. She'd made sure it was clean and fresh, but she hadn't seen the point of wearing it loose, as the chopper would just make a god-awful mess of it that way.
On the whole, she looked fantastic. And that was just the problem.
Ervisa felt odd, strange. She had never anticipated getting all dressed up for a guy like this. Normally she'd just wear her casual clothes and land a date for the day, without any special effort. But now...
Now the eccentric Mirialan was wearing makeup and jewelry, and about to go on a date with a nice guy. Not some bad boy with a swoop, not some gorgeous model, and not a hunky tennis instructor. A nice coworker. Her boyfriend.
This was an actual relationship now, and not a fling. While she'd already accepted that on Taris when he'd come to take her back, she was still struggling to face that fact. For the emerald-skinned pilot, this was like trying to describe colors she'd never seen. Sure you could say 'blue' and everyone knew what you meant, but actually seeing blue for the first time was a monumental difference.
It had been over three decades since she'd been a little Youngling in the Jedi Temple, and maybe it was finally time to settle down. Perhaps she couldn't be the eccentric party-girl anymore, perhaps she had to find a new role.
Ervisa sighed loudly as she sat in a chair near the door, waiting. Why did he have to be such a nice guy? If he'd been a jerk or a conceited bastard she could have just blown him off and flown the coop, but he loved her, the way she'd loved Asyr perhaps, and if she bailed it would destroy him. She'd rip up his heart.
The knock came, and the Mirialan woman opened the door a few seconds later. A thin smile came onto her full lips as she leaned against the door frame, taking a look at Horst.
He was wearing a suit. And was clean-shaven, not remotely scruffy. Somehow he still looked a little like a hairless wookiee stuffed into clothes. That prompted her smile to become a little wider in spite of herself, as she shook her head a little.
"You look nice," She said, trying not to chuckle. "Is that a silk tie?"
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2012 19:04:31 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Dec 16, 2012 19:04:31 GMT -5
Horst was still pulling at his collar when the door creaked open, and he nearly dropped the bouquet in shock. Ervisa was absolutely beautiful; make-up, earrings, a nice dress, and even high-heels? She'd rolled out the red carpet...
... and he stared at her for a minute before he spoke the first thing that came to mind.
"Holy hell, yer' gorgeous." The Engineer blushed a little at that, disliking how crude and unrefined his speech was. Here before him stood one of the most beautiful images he'd ever seen and that was the best he could come up? Holy hell? Really?
... She's stunnin' though. He grinned, surely unable to argue with that.
It was at that point that Horst noticed the flowers threatening to fall out of his hand as well as the poorly-put-on tie she was shaking her head at. Puffing out his chest a little to show off his machismo, Horst did his best to sound unphased. He ended up doing a terrible, awful job. "Uh, yeah, it's, uh... silk... 'er somethin'." He cleared his throat, offering up the flowers. "I, uh, I didn't know what kinda' flowers ya' like, so I... uh... sorta' winged it." He smacked his free palm into his forehead, shaking his own head a bit.
I'mma maroon.
With that reaffirmation, Horst grinned, laughing softly. "Sheesh, warn me tha' next time yer' gonna' put on a dress like that. It ain't easy talkin' to beautiful women, ya' know." With that, he managed to chuckle softly, albeit a little uneasy. Horst wasn't usually an uncertain guy. If this scenario had been him charging a Sith squad on his own, he would have been cool and confident (well, confident anyway).
With women though? With Ervisa actually going out on a date with him, dressed up in a stunning display, him babbling out of nerves?
Hells help me.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2012 21:05:06 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 16, 2012 21:05:06 GMT -5
Ervisa couldn't help but grin at Horst being, well, um. Horst.
Well-intentioned, nice, but could not talk to save his life. How exactly he managed to convince anyone of anything, she didn't know. Frankly it shocked her that he actually had succeeded in convincing her to come back and be his girlfriend.
Now she was in the awkward situation of having agreed, and being held to that by the knowledge that if she strayed she'd be hurting Horst.
The Mirialan woman wasn't sure that she loved Horst, but she couldn't bear to hurt him that way. Not now, not when he'd come out and made it clear how he felt about her. Yes, she'd warned him that she was going to break his heart sooner or later, but...
Ervisa didn't have the heart to make a clean break. So she was trapped. There was nowhere to run and nothing else to do, she had to just hope that maybe she could learn to love Horst in a romantic way, and not a physical way.
For now though, things were different.
"Thanks for the flowers," She said as she took them, looking at them appreciatively. Frankly it was the first time anyone had given her flowers, and while it was romantic...
It was so normal. Boyfriend gives a girlfriend flowers, they go out on a date. Common, like what everyone in the galaxy did in their courtship rituals. This wasn't a crazy party, this wasn't an adventure. It was just... Normal.
"They're very nice," The emerald-skinned woman said, taking them and tossing them onto the table, as her quarters were devoid of doodads like vases.
"How about we go now?" She hinted, stepping outside and closing the door behind her.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Dec 19, 2012 22:22:58 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Dec 19, 2012 22:22:58 GMT -5
Horst couldn't help but blush a bit as Ervisa took the flowers, commenting that they were "nice"...
... Damnit, I'm blushin' now?! Either this night would be the end of him, or he was bound to make the entire evening crash and burn in a giant fiery wreckage of utter and total misery for all parties included...
... Relax. She's a woman, not a depth charge. Maybe his fear lied in the fact that HE was a depth charge. Still, maybe he was just psyching himself out. On the one hand, she had made the choice to stay and date with him, hadn't she? Wasn't that why she was here? By choice?
... or was she just here because he was the only one who cared, and she was settling? Hells, he hoped not. He could be used for his body, chase her across the galaxy, and even break down and buy a suit, but the one thing Horst wouldn't be able to deal with would be her saying that she was just settling with him. She deserved better than that, and he knew it, no matter what she said about herself.
With that optimistic thought complete, Ervisa suggested that they go, closing her door after not-so-gently depositing the flowers. Horst didn't care about the smelly little pedals; she had liked them to a degree at least, so their purpose had been served, and now she could burn them if she wanted to.
"Uh, yeah, I got us a private chopper..." He looked at her confused for a moment, wondering how they should proceed. Did dating couples hold hands? Walk arm-in-arm? Waltz down hallways? Execute acrobatics just to open and close doors? He had no idea, and so he stuck with his gut; he walked right beside her, leading the way to the tarmac, where sure enough one pilot waited in a chopper, the blades spinning furiously, buffeting them both with wind as they boarded.
Once on-board, the ride was relatively quiet. It could have just been the oddity of either of them dating, or it simply could have been an unwillingness from both of them to try and talk much over the chopper blades chugging loudly outside the compartment. Whichever, they arrived at the Waypoint Air Field a good 20 minutes ahead of their reservation, which was great as it was a 10 minute walk.
Longest... ten minutes... ever....
Horst walked beside Ervisa slowly down the street, going a little slower than normal to keep her from additional pain from her heels. Beyond that, he still had no clue as to what he was doing, pulling at his collar, adjusting his tie (which he'd discovered was actually made of some kind of nylon during the chopper ride), clearing his throat softly, and generally fidgeting and shifting the way anyone does whenever they're uncertain.
And an uncertain Horst Stellar was quite the rare sight indeed.
Entering the restaurant ahead of Ervisa, holding the door for her in a self-debated move, Horst led her over to the host. The Glass Scale Shark was definitely one of the more elegant places in Waypoint, as chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the entire floor was draped in a patterned, high-quality red rug, a small set of candles sat at every table, and the napkins were folded into elegant little structures as they awaited their use, beckoning in the classier eaters of Waypoint.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand then there was Horst.
Speaking to the host, Horst cleared his throat again. "Table fer' two? Name should be 'Stellar'." His accent and rough pronunciations earned a shooting glance from the host, mostly one of surprise and accusation, but the man said nothing, simply running a finger across the text on his list of reservations.
"Ahhhhhhhh, yez, Mizter Stellar. Your table iz ready. Right zis way." The host stood up very straight, emanating proper posture as he directed a proper gesture in the direction of a dining room, where a table near a window already held fancy decor and lit candles. In the center sat a small sign, which is detailed calligraphy read "Stellar".
Horst looked at Ervisa and smiled slightly, trying to kill off his nervous feelings. "Ladies first."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 19, 2012 23:05:11 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 19, 2012 23:05:11 GMT -5
It was a long and silent flight that took the dating duo into Waypoint, and it was both long and silent enough that Ervisa started to get a little nervous. Well, a little more nervous.
This was her first real date. Sure, she'd shared a meal with a stranger before and talked about random things, but she'd never actually been in a relationship AND gone out for lunch, or a cinema presentation, or a walk in the freaking park.
And already Horst was as quiet as the grave, and she doubted that was a good thing. He was probably fussing over the way he looked or what to say, but she honestly didn't know. Maybe he was having reservations. Maybe he was nervous too.
OK, he was probably just as nervous, if not more so. His nervous was a different kind than hers though. He was nervous about what to do on a date, and she?
Ervisa was nervous about what that date signified. Attachment, romantic entanglement. To an extent she'd already agreed to these things by knuckling under on Taris and agreeing to come back, but some rebellious corner of her soul was vehemently insisting she cling to every scrap of freedom that she could.
The walk to the restaurant was similarly quiet, punctuated only by the clicking of her ridiculously high heels, which put her nearly on eye level with Horst. One of the side benefits of being a tall girl. However, they weren't exactly comfortable.
At long last they arrived, and a Twi'lek waiter with an outrageously snooty accent led them to their table, where Ervisa sat first. As she had to pull out her own chair and push it in herself, the Host frowned even more and looked at Horst askance, as if such a man was only slightly more valuable than a piece of used gum.
The Mirialan woman immediately stared at the wine list as the host disappeared. The server would arrive in a bit, and then they'd have their order taken. She wanted to be ready for that.
Her eyes skimmed along the list as she waited for the man to recede, and then she broke the long silence.
"Horst, what exactly IS our relationship?"
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Dec 20, 2012 16:59:54 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Dec 20, 2012 16:59:54 GMT -5
Horst bit his fist as he realized that he had forgotten to slide out Ervisa's chair for her, forcing her to do it herself. Normally he wouldn't have given a damn, but between the fact that she was quite obviously already unhappy with the evening and the disappointing glare of the host (which was more anger-producing than shame-inspiring), the Engineer bit hard on his limb for a minute before stopping. The result was a clear impression of his teeth on the back of his hand.
Then he realized that Ervisa seeing that would just make things worse. He sat, flat-mouthed. Stupid, stupid! At least she was too busy looking at the wine menu to notice.
Horst sighed, trying to relax as he picked up a menu. Most of the liquor was incredibly fancy, and furthermore expensive. He didn't care about the latter part, but the former left him scratching his chin, wondering what in the galaxy a "E. Tetan Three Score Limited Edition" was and if he could possibly get something to calm his nerves a bit.
A hard scotch, or even just a whiskey to help distract him a bit.
Skimming the menu cover to cover, he found no such reprieve. He set the list of liquor down, wishing that he wasn't so friggin' lost.
Ah well. Can't get any worse.
... then it got worse.
After a few minutes of quiet, Ervisa spoke up with a question Horst hadn't been expecting. It was serious, pretty obviously premeditated, and beyond both of those a little disconcerting to think about.
Horst still had little to no idea as to where their relationship was, though at least now he had a "normal" answer, vague and shaky though it might have been. He looked at her, covering his bitten hand with his elbow, hands on the table in a classic, informal posture, and hummed slightly in quick, shallow thought.
"Uh... I guess we're datin'?" He pointed around at their surroundings. "'Cause this kinda' looks lika' date."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 21, 2012 2:07:23 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 21, 2012 2:07:23 GMT -5
Horst, as usual, had a way for words. Not a way in the conventional sense, where someone could masterfully construct persuasive sentences, but in the exact opposite sense. He had all the verbal skill of a rancor with a crippling fear of talking. Also the rancor was on fire.
Or not. The operative point was rancor, and disliking talking. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly a beacon of loquacity in a dark world, and his answer left much to be desired.
He guessed they were dating.
"What a coincidence," Ervisa said drily, "I guessed that too."
Considering that a man in a suit, and a woman the same age in a sexy dress practically screamed out to be identified as a dating couple, or at their age married, that revelation wasn't exactly stunning. What she'd been hoping for was something a little more substantial.
Was she the love of his life? Was this still friends-with-benefits? Did he have any ambitions? What was the end result he had in mind?
It was really the L word that she wondered about. While she was somewhat inclined to believe that Horst did love her (which was the only reason she'd come back), he hadn't actually said it. He hadn't uttered some stirring confession of love.
Maybe she was hoping for a little meltdown or some tears, but Ervisa would have settled just to know he loved her.
Frankly, she was dreading it. The idea of being held in such high esteem, of having a heart at her fingertips, was repulsive to her. If she'd been a really bad person she might have savored that, and enjoyed causing him pain. But for her, it was just a burden. Ervisa Therani had to tread lightly and keep that heart beating. She couldn't afford to screw up, otherwise she'd break it.
And if she broke it, she couldn't live with herself. And if she couldn't live with herself...
Ervisa wasn't the suicide-type. It was more likely she'd just submerge herself in the bottle and never come out, or that she'd hit the spice again and screw up her life.
It wasn't like she could complain. It was just instant karma after all. Frak up his life, get your own frakked up too.
For better or for worse, she just wanted to hear what exactly her constraints were, what she had to abide by. Right now, she didn't know what their relationship really was. Exclusive? Open? It was too damn complicated.
Ervisa turned her grey eyes onto him, and she sighed, twirling the wine list around on the table now that she'd made a selection.
"Maybe I should have asked differently. What do you expect out of... this? Out of me?"
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Dec 24, 2012 0:20:55 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Dec 24, 2012 0:20:55 GMT -5
"Expect?" Horst chuckled at that, sort of amazed. His mind was horrified by the question, and it would have sent him into a flurry had he not enacted his time-tested strategy for overcoming fear.
When afraid, stop thinking.
It sounded like an ill-considered strategy, but the fact of the matter was that it worked. Horst was a determined guy, and nothing stood in the way of determination and confidence like thinking, worrying, theorizing, and generally over-analyzing.
So Horst had learned long ago what to do. Take the important info, wave goodbye to the panic attack his mind was having, and ditch the useless thing in favor of the good ol' gut.
"Ta' be honest Ervi, tha' only thing I'm expectin' is fer' ya' ta' kick me ta' tha' curb." Horst's nerves immediately settled a bit as he relaxed, finding this quite a bit easier without his mind screaming at him in seven flavors of panic. Honestly, why hadn't he done this sooner? 'Cause I was freakin' out. That earned a grin.
"Considerin' we're here though..." Horst paused, scratching his chin as he tried to deduce what exactly it was that he expected out of Ervisa (with his gut, not his mind).
"... I'm expectin' a chance. It ain't gotta' be a big chance, maybe just this date. After that?" The Enginner shrugged, the jacket of his suit creasing a bit. He honestly had no idea what he expected out of her.
"Honestly? I'm just tryin' ta' see ya' happy. If I can do it, yay. If not? Yer' free ta' ditch me."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 24, 2012 4:48:46 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 24, 2012 4:48:46 GMT -5
Yeah, he kept saying he expected her to turn him down. In fact, he said it too often. So often that she was suspecting that was what he actually wanted, that his constant repetition was an exhortation. She might have just said so, except the Mirialan could tell from her senses that it wasn't the case.
It was aggravating though. And he should have been able to figure out by now that she needed more information about what exactly they were living before she did break up and move on, or whether...
Whether she had to settle.
As chilling as that thought was, Ervisa was conscious of the fact that she was in her thirties, and that with the way she lived her life, that was the point where she had to make the choice between spinsterhood and a relationship. And when it came to that, she was deeply ambivalent.
Growing up as a Jedi, she'd never even thought about romantic relationships, about marrying someone and having children. When she'd first left the Order, Ervisa had been far too distraught and disturbed to even think about those things. Only now, after she'd hit rock bottom and started to climb back up, did she begin to think about what came next.
Did she accept the Jedi fate, and resign herself to never having a significant other? Or did she try to find some nice guy to settle down with?
It all really depended on Horst, and how he felt. He was the linchpin of her future. And that sucked serious ass.
And to make things worse, Horst had to say he just wanted her to be happy.
Ervisa rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Did they put gay juice in your water?" She asked sarcastically, before instinctively reaching for a hip pocket that wasn't there, and the box of tabac cigarettes that she didn't have with her.
All this caring about her, it was just... Too much. Frankly, she didn't care about herself. That's because objectively she wasn't worth caring about. Just a failed Jedi, insignificant in the galaxy apart from what she could do with a lightsaber or her mind. If you took that away, she was just a recovering junkie with one hell of a checkered past.
Not a good girl, not a sweet girl, not a nice girl. Not the girl you brought home to mom, not the girl who you married, and not the girl who you cared about the minute after she left your bed.
The Mirialan woman drummed her fingers on the tabletop, feeling increasingly ill at ease.
"Look," She said as her fingers ceased their movement. "It's not that cut and dry. I need to know how you feel. You can't ask me to make all these goddam frakking decisions unless I know every single fact. That includes what's going on..."
Ervisa rubbed her temples as she realized how damned corny this was going to sound. Really she was convinced she could have, and should have, done better. Maybe Horst's lead tongue was rubbing off on her.
"In your heart. I have to know what your emotions are, how you really feel about me. Not this 'I want you to be happy' banthash!t. What do you want, what does Horst Stellar want. And if you say one more word about making me happy, I will find my lightsaber and shove it up your-"
"Pardon," The waiter said as he arrived with a pad. "May I bring you drinks? An appetizer?"
Ervisa looked at him. A human in a tuxedo with a neat mustache. He looked like he was a stuck up bastard. She could practically feel a desire to kick him in the shin. Or maybe that was just the Horst issue. Either way, he was going to expect Horst to answer, so she folded her arms and pointed to a wine on the list, hoping Horst would get the idea.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Jan 2, 2013 15:48:08 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 2, 2013 15:48:08 GMT -5
Horst balled one hand into a fist, resting it on the table as he drummed the fingers of his other hand on the mass, simply trying to deduce an answer to Ervisa's question. He'd never really thought about it; what did he want? What, did he want that dream he'd shared with Var? Wife, 2.5 kids, a pet hound and a house on some rural planet?
"Well... I wa-" A waiter arrived, snooty as snooty could be, and requested to take their order. Horst didn't usually fall for the whole suave and savoir fair front, and so the waiter did little to alleviate his mounting frustration, both at himself and the situation on the whole. Horst grunted at the man, who seemed to hold in low repute as he kept his nose sky-high, as he took the wine list from Ervisa and displayed the decision she'd made to the waiter, not even bothering to try and pronounce it. "Ya' heard- 'er, saw tha' lady."
The waiter rolled his eyes, scoffed, scribbled down their order in delicate cursive, and promptly departed.
And that left them both sitting there again, with Horst still owing an answer.
He sighed. Why's it always gotta' be so complicated?
"Fine. Wanta' know what I want? All I want is a shot Ervi. A shot at bein' somethin' more than some half-assed soldier." He shook his head, his fingers picking up the pace of their drumming, becoming an audible, steady thumping of unease. "I'm never gonna' be worth more than tha' gun I carry if I don't... I dunno... if I don't make myself worth somethin' ta' somebody." He flicked a hand in the air, signaling the end of of his small reverential.
After that, Horst was quiet for a moment, his fingers slowly dying down from their quick pace back to a leisurely th-th-th-thump. His green eyes finally glanced up, seemingly unchanged by his speech.
"That's it." And with that, he was quiet, his mind (cornered off though he made it) silently wondering what Ervisa would say in response. As usual, he hoped he hadn't just blown things.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 3, 2013 22:14:14 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 3, 2013 22:14:14 GMT -5
So he had self-worth issues. That hardly made him unique. In fact, it made him a lot like her, though there were a few key differences besides breasts.
To begin with, Horst wanted to be worth more. He saw a way out of his lowly position and to transfer into being a father or a husband, while Ervisa was the exact opposite. She didn't see a way out of her current cycle of addictions. All she saw was the opportunity to sink low again, and never regain the prestige and glory of being a Jedi Knight.
Hyperion to a satyr.
This current existence was just pointless, and a constant reminder of how she'd failed Bola. Her Padawan's sacrifice could have, and should have, inspired some noble devotion to duty or some renewed fervor and commitment. Instead it had driven her into an ignoble life, living from bottle to bottle and bed to bed instead of providing substance or nobility.
She was a quitter. Ervisa's response now was generally flight rather than fight, because she didn't like all the steaming bantha poo that came with them. It was why she ran away from every tough situation in life that dealt with her feelings.
Asyr. She ran to the bar and wrecked her life. Horst. She flew to Taris, THEN ran to a bar.
He deserved better, and what pissed her off was that he'd set his sights on HER of all people. Why it was he couldn't go to Waypoint and meet a nurse or a dental hygienist, she didn't know. Someone, anyone but her, would be preferable. Hell, if he just wanted a pretty wife, there were services on Ryloth for that. What exactly did he want with her?
What did Ervisa Therani have that one could consider good material for a wife? She smoke, she drank, she cursed, she slept around. What about that said 'marry me?'
The Mirialan woman sighed deeply.
"Look, Horst. I don't know why you've got your heart so set on me. You can prove yourself to some other girl, some NICE girl. Find one who's sweet, and doesn't curse or drink. I'm not your ticket to domestic bliss. Do you get that?"
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Jan 6, 2013 2:01:21 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 6, 2013 2:01:21 GMT -5
"N' who tha' hell said I was lookin' fer' 'domestic bliss'?" Horst leaned on his forearm, looking at her with a small grin and determined blue eyes, crackling with life and hope in their color.
"See, I need YOU ta' get somethin'." He readjusted himself, leaning in a bit over the table. "I ain't lookin' fer' some high-society, white gloves n' hats broad from Alderaan here." He grinned broadly. "I'm lookin' fer' somebody who's head ain't up her ass, ain't half bad lookin', n' is pretty damn nice. Well, nice enough ta' deal with my sorry act." That got him chuckling as he leaned back finally, his rough laugh like sandpaper to the elegant and refined atmosphere, with a few other patrons looking over to see what the commotion was. It wasn't that the laugh was loud so much as it was that it violated the very nature of the establishment.
So naturally when the waiter returned to the table, his nose was practically on par with the clouds, and his disdain toward Horst quite clear. "One excellent decision for an excellent madame and her... eh, companion." He scoffed lightly, and Horst rolled his eyes, imagining how well the waiter could keep his nose up like that with a fist smashing it downward. Fortunately for the well-being of his physicality, the waiter promptly placed before them two menus printed in elegant font before suavely announcing, "I shall return momentarily." With that, he was gone again, and Horst was left to his grinning.
After all, why shouldn't he grin? That was Horst, after all. The details didn't really matter to him, if at all. When he made up his mind about something, his mind stayed that way until he was either dead, dying, or somewhere in-between. He was stubborn and confident, but only because he was certain of what he saw. He saw a stubborn ass of a man in himself, and in Ervisa he saw the workings of a truly nice, wonderful woman. Sure, she didn't see it (or perhaps she didn't show it), but it was there, and it sure wasn't invisible to Horst.
Then again, maybe he was seeing things where there was nothing. Oh well. If he was, he'd get whooped like he usually did. If there was indeed a deeper level to Ervisa, which he knew there was, then he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Picking up his menu, he chuckled lightly again. "Ya' fit my ticket pretty well Ervi. 'Sides, what good's a girl that can't beat tha' crap outta' somebody when she needs to?"
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 6, 2013 3:21:56 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 6, 2013 3:21:56 GMT -5
At 'ain't half bad lookin',' Ervisa narrowed one eye and raised an eyebrow. While she probably wasn't a ten, she tried to hit at least an 8. She worked out to keep herself trim, kept her hair clean and glossy as a raven's coat, and her teeth were impeccable. If she made the effort like she did here, wearing make-up (tasteful makeup), a dress, and heels, then she damn well merited something better than just not 'half-bad.'
Sometimes she felt like this relationship was pearls before swine. Horst just didn't know what to do with a woman. The Mirialan pilot felt like she had to push him into everything, like he never just did something pleasing without being molded and guided. Hell, by the time she got him properly trained, she'd probably be in her mid-forties, at which point she was worried all the zest would be gone and she'd be obliged to settle.
Why couldn't she just leave, just ditch him and go find some dating service. She could meet some well-to-do Coruscanti Lawyer, or an Alderaanian doctor. Hell, she could move some place respectable like Chandrila and live a normal life, producing a few children maybe, sending them off to school like a normal person.
Ervisa sighed as the menus came.
No. Ervisa Therani wasn't cut out to be a Chandrilan housewife. She could dress up in a skirt and pearls, or host parties with appetizers she couldn't pronounce the names of, but it wouldn't be real. Deep down she was edgy and she was cheap. It was more likely she'd live in some run down prefabricated home in the outer rim, living with someone she hated.
No society. Just the Fringe.
Horst was fringe too. Maybe that was why she felt the pressure to settle with him. He wanted her, he liked her, and they were both rather cheap people unaccustomed to the finer things. Dressing Horst in a suit didn't make him any more a Coruscanti Lawyer than wearing lipstick and pearls would make Ervisa a housewife.
Maybe she had to settle. It was time to just give up on the idea of love and choose the one she could merely tolerate, and leave it at that. The alternative was to die in an apartment surrounded by a hundred cats.
Ervisa looked him in the eye, the blue flecks set in her grey irises sparkling in the way that waves under the sun glistened. It wasn't necessarily a happy look; it was actually quite intense.
She was going to make one last appeal.
"You know how many men I've slept with besides you? Enough that I can look at this crowd here and guess what to say to make them all bite. One look and I know how much to charge. Yeah, I haven't been able to get over that. I probably never will. Now why the hell would you want to be with that? You used to hate me. It was a whole hell of a lot simpler then."
Ervisa turned her gaze away from Horst and into the menu, looking at everything carefully, reading such descriptions as 'subtle flavors of sage and rosemary' and 'glazed with an orange sauce.'
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Jan 7, 2013 16:32:34 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 7, 2013 16:32:34 GMT -5
Horst drummed his fingers against his menu, trying to think of something, anything to say. Having a tongue made out of lead pretty much guaranteed that anything he did say would come out as total garbage, and beyond that his mind was at a total loss for a way to express what he felt through words.
So, Horst did what he did best. He shut up and took action, pulling down Ervisa's menu, raising her chin a little, and pecking her on the lips, staring into her grey eyes with his own vastly-blue spheres of determination, matching her intensity with his own. He smiled at her, then sat back down, picking up his own menu and scanning over the entrees like a walrus would read a drama.
"That's why." He thumbed through the menu, browsing really. Eventually he just picked the only thing he could recognize the name of, and furthermore the only thing that the thought of didn't make him want to violently vomit.
Steak.
Placing his menu down, Horst resumed twiddling his thumbs, knowing that Ervisa was probably going to want more than a simple kiss. In all honesty, however, that was it; that was as simple and clear-cut as Horst could make it.
Where words failed him, action picked up the slack.
But what did he feel? Love? Simple attraction? He wasn't really sure, but he knew for one thing that he couldn't let her slip through his fingers just because he was an idiot. She could leave because he wasn't good enough, or because he didn't meet her criteria, or even because she just didn't like him that much. He could take those blows to his pride, personality, and heart like a champ, seeing them as challenges to overcome as opposed to wounds.
But ya' can't fix stupid. So the only thing for him to do was to try and act like there was something that thick skull of his besides empty space and a few spare bullets.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 7, 2013 22:49:33 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 7, 2013 22:49:33 GMT -5
Horst kissed her, and Ervisa didn't know how to respond. As far as reasons went, it wasn't a very good one. The Mirialan woman simply stood there with confusion, not quite comprehending his reaction, as it flew in the face of undeniable logic, of something that even she could admit.
The normal reaction to your girlfriend saying that probably wouldn't be affection. More like jealousy, or resentment, or even contempt. Certainly she hadn't anticipated the kiss, and her eyes stayed open as she remained unmoved, not kissing back. That was easy, as it was a quick peck only.
He looked at the menu, and she looked at hers.
Grilled sole with a lemon sauce. Braised nerf in a red wine reduction.
He didn't care.
Smoked pheasant. Artichoke hearts fried in Neimoidian bread crumbs.
Horst genuinely didn't seem to care that she'd been a hooker, or that she'd been on spice. As far as he was concerned, she was some kind of Saint, and nothing she could say would make any difference.
"200 credits," Ervisa blurted out. The thought had been present in her mind and had leaked out like water from a sieve, or like rain falling from the sky. It was random and must have seemed related to a menu price, so she qualified it.
"I would have charged you 200 credits."
The Mirialan woman stared back down at her menu.
Premium nerf steak, all entrees come with a portion of mixed vegetables.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Jan 9, 2013 19:58:32 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 9, 2013 19:58:32 GMT -5
"... 'N I'd still be here with ya', even if it was two thousand."
Horst silently batted the menu against his forehead, mumbling a silent curse at how stupid he sounded. Really? Two-thousand credits? What was he, an amateur high-school poet? He couldn't speak before, he couldn't speak now, and it would be a cold day down-under when he could speak in the future.
But he kept trying. That was his way. Even when faced with a giant obstacle, a colossus of problems, troubles, and general catastrophe standing resolute with the single purpose of making him turn back, Horst would execute his elaborate three-part plan.
First, look at the colossus.
Second, yell at the colossus.
Third, tackle the colossus and keep tackling it until it was an ant he could crush beneath his heel, an insignificant spot on the path he had chosen that just something to look at, shrug, and walk on.
In a way, Ervisa was that colossus. She wasn't a problem, per se, but rather an obstacle; something Horst needed to turn his way if he ever wanted to be anything more than just some guy tackling random imaginary giants. She was his ticket to a plane of existence he hadn't seen in decades; a plane of existence where he didn't get up every morning thinking about new ways to counter Sith troops or how dysfunctional the new rifles were or how troops could get the leg up in a boarding operation.
Horst had spent his entire life in a flurry of action, shouting, and fighting. For just once, he'd like to spend a day of his life working like a normal man, maybe chuckling at nice jokes instead of the crude ones he'd grown so accustomed to, smiling and genuinely happy. He was happy at Spearpoint, of course; soldiering was his skill, and he loved to use it.
But that didn't mean he didn't wonder what he was missing out on.
And besides... perhaps if he could find someone to love...
That thought made him look at the menu a little more intensely, despite the fact that he'd already made up his mind. Let's maybe keep that word outta' tha' picture...
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 10, 2013 0:40:13 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 10, 2013 0:40:13 GMT -5
Ervisa reached for cigarettes that weren't there one more time, cringing at their absence. Horst was amounting to more than she could understand, more than she could cope with. That was saying something, as Ervisa was blessed with ingenuity and persistence when it came to a great many things.
However, affairs of the heart didn't come naturally to the Mirialan woman. It was a field that confused her deeply to say the least, and made her feel a wide variety of emotions, and always at the forefront was...
Guilt. It didn't make sense, as she was a consenting adult and always with other consenting adults, but relationships seemed like a sinister phantom to her, like an ominous shadow that would suck her up and trap her. Ervisa was a free spirit, afraid of settling into responsibility.
Cleaning the house, feeding a family, living domestic bliss... The two kids and a white picket fence dream merely frightened her, and caused a sense of panic. What was more, she felt rightly that it took her a final step away from what she had been.
Apart from her lightsaber, the last remnant of Ervisa Therani, Jedi Guardian, was her refusal to let herself into a relationship. And even now she could feel it slipping through her fingers, like so many grains of sand.
The Mirialan woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath, asking if it was really so bad.
Horst wasn't terrible. A little rough around the edges, though she was too, and coarse like sandpaper. He was a little dense, but he had a good heart. Ervisa could see him as a father, with a daughter sitting on his knee, a son to play catch with. But what she couldn't see was them being her children, she couldn't see Ervisa Therani cooking dinner, or breast-feeding a baby, changing a diaper.
The Mirialan woman just couldn't look in the mirror and see a mother. That was what frightened her, that was what caused her to push Horst away, to try to sabotage this courtship before it got out of hand.
Why couldn't she just say no? Why couldn't she turn him down flat and move on? That would have been the best course for both of them after all, but... That path resulted in guilt; deep and crippling guilt. If Ervisa had never met Asyr she might not have hesitated to turn Horst away, but after her own descent...
She couldn't handle it. It wasn't an option.
There was no way out.
The Mirialan woman was called back to the present by the voice of the waiter asking for their orders, and Ervisa opened her grey eyes, and found that they rested directly on an insert.
"I'll have the catch of the day," She said neutrally, before her eyes caught sight of the bottle of wine now on the table. A second waiter filled her glass, and she promptly picked it up and started to drink, refraining from gulping it all only out of some residual sense of decorum.
This was not her evening.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Jan 10, 2013 21:01:49 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 10, 2013 21:01:49 GMT -5
After years of dealing with people and trying to do so with his lead tongue, Horst had developed at least a basic skill in reading people. If someone was relaxed and smiling, they were at ease. If they were tense and hunched over, they were nervous. If they were glaring intently, it usually meant that you were on their mind.
Generally, if someone chugged a glass of wine after he tried to make them feel better about their scenario, it meant that he'd failed.
Horribly.
Sighing, Horst rubbed his temples as the waiter reappeared, ready to take their orders. Why was he even bothering tonight? He knew exactly how this was going to end. He'd try and lead both himself and Ervisa through this unstable relationship for as long as he could, too stubborn to give up the game when all he was doing was losing. That would go on until he either woke up and smelled the coffee (a rare occurrence, it seemed to him), or Ervisa finally got sick of putting up with a 40 year-old soldier who spat, swore, couldn't pull his act together to save his life, and was being hunted by three dangerous powers.
Then she'd ditch him (finally) in pursuit of someone who didn't suck so hard, and he'd be the same lonely man he'd been before it all, only with a lot of time and energy securely flushed down the drain.
"Yer' finest steak," Horst ordered, still rubbing his forehead as he drank his wine even faster than she did, chugging it as if it was just a juice. To his shot taste buds, it might as well have been. "N' keep it pink." The waiter rolled his eyes, jotting down the second order before collecting the menus and departing with his wine-pouring assistant, leaving them stark quiet.
Well... I ain't got anythin' ta' lose then. Rubbing his eyes a little, Horst finished the crude massage to his face before looking up, pouring them both another glass of wine. If he was going to crash and burn anyway, than he'd might as well pull out all of the stops to see just what he was made of...
"Hey, listen. After dinner... ya' wanna' do somethin' kinda' weird?" What he had in mind was weird for him, at least. Horst was rarely a man of the surreal, artistic, or generally unrealistic, so when he had any inclination of doing something that involved any three of those criteria, it was something to mark in the log.
"It ain't weird like 'Livin' balls a' light n' lake monsters' weird... it's weird like, uh..." He rubbed his chin, trying to formulate a way to communicate his point without his lead tongue making it sound so awful. " ... weird like unusual. Like there ain't many folks that still do it." He shrugged, nodding a little to himself as he judged that his words hadn't come out too mangled.
"One thing though; if ya' say yes, it'sa surprise." He grinned; all of the stops meant being as cheesy and absolutely corn-fed as a city-boy could be. "What do ya' say?"
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 10, 2013 21:39:46 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 10, 2013 21:39:46 GMT -5
As weird as a what?
Ervisa's eyebrow streaked skyward as she tried to decipher what exactly Horst had said. Living balls of light in a lake monster? Was this some kind of Corellian expression she'd never picked up before? Or was Horst just being weird?
Sometimes in life there were no certainties. OK, all the time in life there was no certainty. But occasionally you had to take it a step further and go site-unseen, blind to the details, and simply hope it was good. That was part of the experience of being a person, something that a bantha or a nerf didn't really have the presence of mind to cope with.
In this case, Ervisa had a little to work with at least. She knew Horst well enough to know he wasn't going to try to cut off her hands and sacrifice her to beelzebub for example. It was probably going to be some kind of thing he thought was special, but...
The Mirialan woman felt guilty that she couldn't guess what it was. She didn't know Horst well enough for that. He was her boyfriend? Her date? Consort? Companion? Whatever he was, she didn't know the kinds of things he thought were special, and that made her cringe a little.
Ervisa nodded, swayed by her guilt.
It was funny the way her emotions could manipulate her. It happened a lot with Horst. She could tell he loved her, and that sort of tied her hands, and bondage wasn't exactly her cup of tea. But the result was this sense of guilt and obligation, mixed with the faint and frightened hope that maybe she could learn to love him.
That was her only hope.
"Sure," Ervisa said softly, staring at the wine in her glass.
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