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last online Aug 18, 2011 11:57:27 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 25, 2011 0:06:13 GMT -5
Post by Laughing Man on Jan 25, 2011 0:06:13 GMT -5
Continued from "Tion'cuy?"
.. The night was mostly unseuccesful. Mostly, because Vhe'tra hadn't exactly gotten in contact with anyone about the army. Though, he did manage to spend a night with the lovely Mando'ad female whom he came find was named Cuya'dal. From her, Vhe'tra actually heard of some sort of training area for Spec Ops forces or something on Concord Dawn. So he got a good night, and some information. That's as victory as any could be seen.
Now, the Kata Alor'ad found himself climbing out of a grey-black shuttle, and into the light of midday on Concord Dawn's surface. According to the corrdinates Cuya'dal gave him along with her contact information, the training center should be just North of his current location So after checking he had his things in order - which was his basic besbe -Kit in Mando'a-, Vhe'tra set off toward the Spec Ops training facility, but would soon stop at a cantina along the way. The trip had made him a bit hungry.
The street was painted with a classic, dusty orange feel as children and armored Mandalorians scooted about their business. The lone Mandalorian trotting along really brought no attention since it was commonplace here. the markings on his armor, and the pins on his left breastplate marked him a form of veterency, but most paid no mind which was fine with Vhe'tra. He never bothered with Ranks too much anyway, they only proved either of two things: 1)That the person was really good at kissing a lot of behinds. Or 2) That the person was a veteran of some kind, and doesn't need to be constantly reminded of all the lives he's taken. Vhe'tra could vouch for the latter reason himself, which was why he never really bothered with them.
The cantina was like a fat, square stone sitting on an old, worn wooden frame. The interior was rather new, and seemed to be kept rather clean which belied it's old look from the outside. The atmosphere seemed to be rather lively, even at this time, but then it WAS probably about time for a nice sit down to discuss some business. Vhe'tra found himself a seat, odered a glass of water, and set his helmet on the table in front of him. He ordered a steak, then watched and listened to the conversations around him in case he could pick up on anything useful.
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last online Sept 25, 2011 1:55:09 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Jan 25, 2011 15:31:27 GMT -5
Post by corden on Jan 25, 2011 15:31:27 GMT -5
Corden Vencu stepped across the threshold and into the dim, crowded confines of the cantina. His helmet light filter automatically kicked in as bright orange and yellow streaks of light shot through the nearest transparisteel window, playing across the dark, somber, and in some areas chipped or scratched, paint of his helmet and right pauldron. Moving away from the entrance, his eyes scanning the faces and armor patterns out of habit, patron by passing patron, he slowly made his way to the large, open bar at the far end of the room. Claiming an open spot between a sickly looking Rodian and a large, heavily armored Human fellow, he pushed a single selector switch on his left bracer, activating the small servos that would retract the armor plating shielding his visor with a low, barely audible hum.
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Ashi
The Site ?sshole
501 posts
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The Herpes Sore on SWU
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last online Sept 23, 2014 18:13:59 GMT -5
Knight
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Jan 25, 2011 17:20:18 GMT -5
Post by Ashi on Jan 25, 2011 17:20:18 GMT -5
Miran was not feeling on top of her game tonight. But then, it had been almost two weeks since she had. Life has a way of crushing you, attacking when you least expect it, and she had recently been reminded of this. For her, every shadow hid an assassin, every rock a grenade. To call her jumpy would be the polite, and understated, way to describe it.
It was somewhat worse, now, after visiting her clan to inform them of her husband's passing. Not only had she born bad news, she had not yet claimed vengeance, justice, for that unwarranted attack, or even brought him home. The clan accepted that, but the Skirata clan has always been a particularly vengeful people. Miran had known the meaning of the name, how it had been forged from the term "skira", or an intensely personal vendetta in basic, and even some of the story behind it. But there is a difference between knowing, and experiencing. She was finding that out the hard way, and had come to this little bar in the middle of nowhere for a drink, and the chance to think away from her clan.
She had been sitting in a dark corner, hiding from the too-bright light and the loud noise of the casual drinkers, when two heavily armored vode walked in. They were a few minutes apart, but they sat close to each other at the bar, and she wondered if something odd was going on. She almost wished she had bothered to bring her armor, but in the hope of leaving the clan's holdings some-what quietly, she had left it in the Cuyir. It was not the kind of thing conducive to a quiet night at a cantina, besides, and there was no sense worrying about it now. She used her retinal implants to designate the two as suspicious, and went back to her drink. Occasionally she looked up and watched the two for a moment, but she was well aware of the sensor abilities of beskar'gam, so she kept is as subtle as she could. All thought of Darren had escaped her mind; two brothers in full battle armor are not something to be ignored.
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last online Aug 18, 2011 11:57:27 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 25, 2011 17:50:48 GMT -5
Post by Laughing Man on Jan 25, 2011 17:50:48 GMT -5
The black stripe down the center of his beskar'gam was flanked by a dark green on either side, with a dark orange filling in the areas the pattern did not fit. A lot of it was chipped, his boots in particular seemed heavily tarnished at the shins almost up to his knees, a remnant of a trip to Felucia he took a while back. Right now, in the dim lighting of the cantina, the colors were hard to make out but the pattern was easily discernible. As he took a sip of the water, one could just make out a deep scar on the right side of his fice, from brow to cheek, though most wouldn't realize that his eye was actually cybernetic, a reminder of his broken past as an aruetii no matter how hard he tried to forget it.
Setting the glass down lightly, he finally removed his gloves to tuck them into his belt. Never once did he seem to lean back, or even relax, despite being on a well-known Mandalorian planet. It was proof to his paranoia and the lessons taught to him over the years - nowhere is safe, everywhere you can become a target. Years of combat, espionage, and assassinations have taught him such useful skills.
Focus.
He was here for a purpose, and so with renewed focus, he leaned forward and shifted in his stool lightly, noticing a rather suited-up Mandalorian enter the cantina and take a seat not too far from him. This man didn't remove his helmet, but seemed to slide his visor away. Clever. And he's probably just as paranoid as I am...
Vhe'tra surmised this could be a good or bad thing, but either way the man was worth keeping an eye on. A quick scan of the room followed, which didn't reveal anything too out of the ordinary, except an unarmored female who seemed to be as interested in the other fellow as Vhe'tra was. Maybe that's why the guy was so paranoid? Was he being hunted?
The Mandalorian tapped the bar lightly to bring the 'tender over,
"Can I get some spices for my steak? It's a bit dry." He requested, tossing his head toward Corden subtly. The bartender turned that way and actually chuckled lightly,
"Don't have that kind of spice, burc'ya" He responded and turned to tend to others, leaving Vhe'tra to his thoughts once more.
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last online Sept 25, 2011 1:55:09 GMT -5
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Jan 25, 2011 19:04:11 GMT -5
Post by corden on Jan 25, 2011 19:04:11 GMT -5
Corden turned his back to the bar as the sickly Rodian slumped off toward a small crowd that had just gathered in the far corner of the cantina. From the looks of it, the crowd was trying to get closer to a small table identical to the many others that were scattered throughout the room.
He paid the Rodian no mind, even when the being bumped into him by accident, his attention split between an unarmored female that was eyeing him off to his right, a man with a unique stripe pattern on his armor eyeing him to his left, and the growing crowd in the corner. Incredible what a compressed three-hundred and sixty degree view of your surroundings allowed you to pick up on.
Laughter, loud and boisterous, erupted from the corner he had been watching, followed by the slightly muffled shouts of several different men. The word mob came to mind.
"Kaysh mirsh solus!" One voice shouted, "His brain cell's lonely!"
Another piped in, his voice oddly distorted as he tried to stop laughing, "Elek, elek... gar serim! He's kriffing worthless... has us taking a few planets here and there, biding his time and taking little to no risks like some aruetiiyc politician. War's a gamble, ner burc'yase..."
Corden almost forgot about the two individuals that had been eyeing him, having briefly lost focus deciphering the muffled shouts from the corner. His eyes flicked to their images briefly before he took a few steps toward the crowded corner, his mood suddenly flaring between sympathy and simmering anger. He was sure he knew who they were so publicly demeaning. They spoke of Mand'alor. As much as he agreed that Bane Haseful had an oddly passive war strategy as of late, he was disciplined enough not to say it in front of his men. Insults behind someone's back were cowardly, dishonorable. A Mandalorian spat his insults into your face and rightly so. If they had a problem, they did something about it. You didn't drink the problem away, you faced it full-on.
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Ashi
The Site ?sshole
501 posts
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The Herpes Sore on SWU
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last online Sept 23, 2014 18:13:59 GMT -5
Knight
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Jan 25, 2011 20:21:22 GMT -5
Post by Ashi on Jan 25, 2011 20:21:22 GMT -5
"Osik" Miran cursed to herself. She was not about to let a bar brawl happen now. Even with her retinal implants, that would inevitably cause her to loose track of most of the patrons who were within her field of view, not the least of which those two by the bar. She slowly got up and walked over to the men in the corner.
"Su'cuy." She greeted the slightly rowdy men coldly, hoping to penetrate their drunken stupor a bit. "Ni paguur pel'vode ibiic takisir manda'yaim. Atinir kaysh ra kyr'amur kaysh. Ibiic cuyi'Manda'ade." in basic she followed that with a simple, direct challenge. "Are you going to put your money where your mouth is and do something about him, or are you going to sit back down and enjoy a drink on me?" The farmers backed down. One replied with: "N'eparavu takisit". She sighed. "Jate" and turned to the bartender.
"Bartender!" She called above the hubbub. "Everybody gets a round on me!" she turned back to the group. "Tion cu'bikad?"
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last online Aug 18, 2011 11:57:27 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 25, 2011 20:54:24 GMT -5
Post by Laughing Man on Jan 25, 2011 20:54:24 GMT -5
Vhe'tra watched the scene unfold, but turned his head as the man he'd been paying attention to got up and moved toward the obnoxious crowd. He didn't hear too much of what they said, but the snippets provided enough information that they were talking about the Mand'alor. It wasn't his place to question their leader, but he had his personal doubts about the man. He kept those personal, though since he wasn't in any position, nor had the desire to do anything. He'd wait to see how the man performed during an actual war before laying final judgement. Besides, it was bad for business to talk bad about the guy you were looking for work from.
As the armored man moved by him, Vhe'tra wrapped his right arm around his buy'ce, and reached out to lay his unarmored hand upon Corden's shoulder,
"Kaysh ori'buyce koh'kovid, vod. Ke nu narti gar mirshe, 'lek?" He intoned quietly, standing up and tucking his helmet under his arm, then letting his left hand drop back to hook into its thumb into his belt. The scar-faced Mandalorian's head inclined, once he hoped he'd had the attention of the man, to the female who was now dispersing the crowd toward which he now moved.
Several of the patrons grumbled quietly, but the affect seemed to have been acheived as the others went back to their free seats and free rounds. As he moved up, Vhe'tra caught the end of the female's offer for a game of cu'bikad and piped up,
"Gaa'ni bah!" He called, as his heavy boots brought him toward her to stop a meter or two from the crowd,
"Ni gai Vhe'tra Kata." He introduced himself, holding out an un-gloved hand,
"I'm impressed, vod. I expected it to be harder to calm them down. I suppose in a way, we are as simple as the aruete make us out to be - Alcohol will solve most of our problems. " Chuckled the Kata Alor'ad while watching the last bit of the crowd meander back to complacency. His attention promptly returned to the female,
"You offered a game of cu'bikad?"
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last online Jun 4, 2011 16:49:47 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 25, 2011 22:28:12 GMT -5
Post by Hammy on Jan 25, 2011 22:28:12 GMT -5
The swell and turn of voices in the cantina held half of Rollick’s attention as he stepped inside. His pointed ears flicked slightly, automatically plugging into the atmosphere to pick up anything interesting. The sensors in his helmet didn’t pick up anything other than the average citizen and no IDs appeared in the upper left corner. Having been raised with a keen eye and ear, it was all instinct at this point. Being Codru-Ji helped; they had excellent hearing. From the looks of it, he might have just missed a free round of drinks from the way several of the beings at the bar held up their glasses.
It did seem like he’d picked the right place, though. Concord Dawn was new to him, just as being around Mandalorians other than his father was new. He liked it. It was rugged and rural, and much more likeable than Tatooine. And his adopted culture was quite prevalent here. He picked up on some Mando’a, and relaxed slightly. He removed his helmet and tucked it under a lower arm while he used an upper one to flick his grey half-cloak over one shoulder. The red of his armor, wine-colored in regular light, was even more subdued in the dimness of the cantina. The stripes and splashes of black looked more like mud splatters instead of an intended marking.
He found a seat at the end of the bar, violet eyes turning briefly upon the other patrons before ordering a glass of water. There were two other men in armor in the cantina. One was addressing a woman, the other sitting nearby. Much more experienced than he was, these two. Rollick knew he was young, but like most young people, found himself more invincible than the average person would. Even so, his presence didn’t seem to attract much attention other than a passing glance. Taking a drink, he kept one ear on conversation and placed his helmet on the counter to wipe some dust off the visor.
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last online Sept 25, 2011 1:55:09 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Jan 26, 2011 12:41:44 GMT -5
Post by corden on Jan 26, 2011 12:41:44 GMT -5
Corden stood still as the young woman from the bar rushed forward, the only warning of her sudden movement the muttering of a common Mandalorian expletive. Silencing the men at the corner table with a string of accented Mando'a, she ordered a round of drinks for everyone present and stepped closer to the table, offering up a game of cu'bikad to those present. Very diplomatic, that one.
His attention quickly shifted to the armored figure moving up behind him. Corden didn't flinch from the man's touch, he merely stood there in silence, still observing even when the man spoke a few words in Mando'a before moving off to join the woman at the corner table. Perhaps they're together.
Corden moved forward, making his way through the quickly dispersing crowd to stop next to the armored man and the young woman. His helmet tilting forward slightly, he spoke up in accented Basic, the rebreather within his helmet muffling his voice only slightly.
"A sharp tongue, vod. Just as useful as a good blade half the time." Corden looked first to the woman, then to the armored man now standing roughly to his left, giving him an appraising glance, "Either of you looking for work? Or do I have a bounty on my head that I don't know about yet?"
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Ashi
The Site ?sshole
501 posts
0 likes
The Herpes Sore on SWU
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last online Sept 23, 2014 18:13:59 GMT -5
Knight
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Jan 26, 2011 18:06:37 GMT -5
Post by Ashi on Jan 26, 2011 18:06:37 GMT -5
OOC: "Gaa'ni bah"? huh? something "I/me to", but I don't catch the reference.
IC: Shab. She thought as she felt an armored gaze on her back. Ni shabla. I drew attention to myself. I can't even so something as simple as this without Darren! She clenched her fist angrily. She almost missed it when the armored man who had brought this burst of anger from her addressed her. She turned around and faced him, relaxing as she did so. If this led to a fight, she couldn't afford to freeze up, and she forced her muscles to loosen.
She gripped the man's hand firmly and looked him in the eye, as Darren taught me. The memory almost felt like someone kicked her in the solar plexus. "Miran Skirata." She said simply.
"We mandalorians tend to get caught up on our own opinions, but most of us still have a sense of duty. If you appeal to that duty, things either settle down or get out-of-hand." she smiled somewhat bitterly . "We don't like to think in shades of grey."
She nodded and walked over to the game board, returning with a couple bundles of daggers a moment later. She bowed her head slightly in greeting as the commander approached. Just because she was out of armor, didn't mean she was dismissive of those ranked higher than she was.
"It can be useful." she smiled and shook her head, "I've not seen the bounty postings in a while, and I just came into enough trouble to keep my shebs busy for a while yet." She shook her head again. Too much had happened in the last two weeks for her to make sense of it all. She passed a bundle of daggers to Vhe'tra. "Your toss."
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last online Aug 18, 2011 11:57:27 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 26, 2011 19:55:40 GMT -5
Post by Laughing Man on Jan 26, 2011 19:55:40 GMT -5
<< f**king nuts boat internets ate my entire post. I'm so pissed right now >_<
Anyway: Gaa'ni Bah is "I want to." But using the "I" and "Want" Backwards, and in the same word as some words are used in the langauge. I feel it's more like conjugating the verb "To want" into "I want" as they do in Spanish. I suppose it works, right? >>
The smile on his face faltered ever so slightly as she took his hand and not his forearm. He kept his gaze level with her eyes, but he couldn't tell from that simple stare whether she meant him insult, or was simply brought up a different way. From where he came from, you gripped the forearm, in a show that if you the person needed to be picked off their backside in battle, you were there to do it. Maybe she was just being distant. They didn't know each other after all, perhaps he was being too open. He stepped back and nodded at the introduction,
"I suppose you've a point. Just thought I'd comment, I can't help but appreciate someone who knows how to use their mirshe rather than a blaster all the time. Not enough of them around anymore." He stated plainly as the half-smile returned and his attention was drawn toward Corden. Vhe'tra took the time to clip his helmet to his belt, the noise not even noticable over the low roar of clinking glasses and newly rejuvenated spirits from the free rounds.
The Kata Alor'ad grinned at the comment this man made, peculiar that the two who seemed to draw his attention seemed to be the two worth paying attention to around here - of course, he didn't notice the young verd who had entered, his attention was already grabbed and drawn. The nod he offered to Corden's statements was a result of his agreeing with what was said. The question Corden asked afterward was somewhat missed as he glanced to the bundle of knives being offered up. He slighted a bit at the bow and sighed,
"I don't think there's any need for that, vod. Peronsally, I don't like that formal osik. We all lead with our verde, down in the trenches, and on the battlefield a bolt or blade treats us all the same no matter the rank. It's only aske that you respect the opinions and advice of the elders when the need arises." He offered a wink, wrinkling the laugh-stained eyes and causing him to seem a bit older than he was. Taking the knives in his left palm, and rolling them around, he moved over toward the board, to get a better angle. He seemed to have gotten the white knives.
As he planned out his moves, he responded to Corden,
"Was going to head to the center nearby, was looking to sign ner aliit up. After hearing about this... 'Reclamation' project going on, we get a little interested. Figured with this kind of thing, people of our skillsets would be needed, or at least put to good work. Besides, we're good Mando'ade. Despite our opinions, we rally to the cause." responded the Alor'ad quietly before seemingly deciding on his move. Shortly before making it, he asked,
"Tion gar gai, ner vod?" then turned back away from the other Mandalorian to enact the strategy he'd come up with. Glancing toward Miran,
"Ready?" He inquired while tucking the rest of his knives into his belt and then holding his left hand behind his back.
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last online Jun 4, 2011 16:49:47 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 26, 2011 22:09:06 GMT -5
Post by Hammy on Jan 26, 2011 22:09:06 GMT -5
OOC: Thanks for letting me join in! I’m woefully out of touch with my Mando’a so do forgive me if I get a little stumped occasionally or screw up a phrase.
BIC: Rollick found his attention drawn again to the other armored Mandalorians, now joined by a woman. He couldn’t pick up on the gist of their talk over the noise, but they did have an assortment of small knives and were situated before a checkered board. Rollick raked his brain to see if it rang any bells; it didn’t. A game perhaps? His father and he had never been around many other Mandalorians, so they never did much game playing. Particularly since he’d still been a wyrwulf for most of the time they were together.
Either way, the idea of a potential knife-throwing game piqued his interest. He was a fair hand at knives, he thought. And provided he wasn’t too obtuse, they might even condescend to let him join. Rollick got to his feet and made his way over, clipping his helmet to his belt. Might lead to a job of some sort as well.
He stopped slightly to the left of the three, eyes going between the board and the older Mandalorian positioning himself. “Su cuy’gar, vode,” he greeted, gesturing to the knives and board simultaneously. “I’m afraid I’ve been a bit, uh…detached. How do you play?”
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last online Sept 25, 2011 1:55:09 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Jan 27, 2011 23:08:59 GMT -5
Post by corden on Jan 27, 2011 23:08:59 GMT -5
Corden took a short step to the side, putting the armored man, young woman, and the newcomer all within his forward line of sight.
"Best to watch and learn, I suppose. It shouldn't be too difficult for you to catch on." Corden replied calmly, looking the armored Codru-Ji over closely, "Or you could do something more useful with your time and get yourself on the next transport headed off to one of the sieges on the front. There will be plenty of time for games and drinking after our people have achieved thier former glory."
Corden turned abruptly, facing the center of the crowded room, his next words augmented by his helmet speakers to be heard over the loud voices and laughter in the cantina.
"Ner ori'vode... Ni gai Corden, alor be aliit Vencu, al'verde be Te Atiniiryc Kisol bal te A'den be Mand'alor. All of you with honor and a will to fight are invited to join me in a new campaign to retake what is rightfully ours and in time, surge forward into open battle with our Republic oppressors. If you will not heed the call of your Mand'alor, then answer the call of your vode still fighting on distant worlds for not just eternal glory, but your very freedom. Transports will be waiting to the northeast, on the town outskirts. They depart at sundown."
Pushing a button on the top left corner of his bracer control pad, Corden shut off his helmet speakers before glancing out at the numerous faces and T-shaped visors still staring in his direction. The cantina was silent. Got thier attention, at least.
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Ashi
The Site ?sshole
501 posts
0 likes
The Herpes Sore on SWU
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last online Sept 23, 2014 18:13:59 GMT -5
Knight
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Jan 28, 2011 16:04:00 GMT -5
Post by Ashi on Jan 28, 2011 16:04:00 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry about the delay. I've been trying to map out the physical properties of my sith armor. And you're most welcome to RP with us, vod. Sorry I didn't say as much earlier, I was somewhat preoccupied.
IC: Now that was unexpected. The surprise was written on her face and, for once, she really didn't care that it was. These people had been abandoned by the last Mand'alor. The man who had abandoned and sold his people like they were banthas being led to the slaughter. Yes, Mand'alor was a concept engrained in these people, but now there were negative connotations to it as well.
Maybe, just maybe, by following a man first and the title second, this would get a few people off their shebs. How many, however, had yet to be seen. She tossed one of the daggers in the bundle at the board, hitting the second-best starting position in the game. Let's see how this plays out. "It seems like our game of cu'bikad has just lost it's importance." She said softly into the silence.
She did little more than comment and watch, however, because without her armor she was very vulnerable. Without Darren, she was more so. This is just the kind of idealistic crusade Darren would have gone for. The thought froze her. She had been trying to forget him, without even realizing it. She had been distancing herself from these people, his people, and hoping for the best.
Damn. If he can do that to me, he just might be able to pull this off.
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last online Aug 18, 2011 11:57:27 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 28, 2011 20:00:43 GMT -5
Post by Laughing Man on Jan 28, 2011 20:00:43 GMT -5
<< Sorry for the short post, a lot on my mind IRL. The delay is not a problem, nobody is rushing anyone. And you're definitely welcome, Frontliner. Nobody who wishes to RP a Mandalorian will be turned away from threads I make, that can be assured. >>
There was an eery silence that followed the speech, during which Vhe'tra had already set his knives down on a nearby table in order to listen more closely to the speech. A sense of pride rose in Vhe'tra's gut as he nodded along with what Corden was saying. There was a sense of duty, and the anticipation of glory to be had on a battlefield.
Most of the cantina stayed quiet, but Vhe'tra threw his fist into the air,
"Oya Manda! Tor bal kote darasuum!" He bellowed loudly, trying to add into the fervor. This was exactly what he had come here for. Seems his intuition and gut had led him to the right person. Now he knew who to follow, and who to talk to.
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Rabbit
Kella's Cohort of Peacekeeping Doom
272 posts
46 likes
Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it - Truth, Honor, Vision
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last online Apr 4, 2019 8:49:44 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jan 28, 2011 23:05:13 GMT -5
Post by Rabbit on Jan 28, 2011 23:05:13 GMT -5
"He made harp pins of her fingers fair a hey ho and me bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone a hey ho and me bonny o..."
Today was a good day - so far, anyway. Sheresh hummed happily within the private confines of her buy'ce; she had slept well for a change and bright, cloudless days like today reminded her of her father. Why she associated sunny days with her father, Sheresh couldn't say - maybe it was because the sun put her in a good mood, as did thoughts of her aruetti buir.
Whatever the reason, she was happy, her step jaunty, and her head full of songs. She had her kithara in a case slung over her back and she was on a two-part "mission" of a personal nature - to track down Sazen and make the thick-headed Iridonian wasn't passed out from a concussion somewhere, and to get new strings for her beloved instrument.
Sheresh stopped humming for a minute and frowned faintly as she thought of Sazen - he had been part of her last four-man team and had sustained a rather spectacular head-injury on their last foray into unfriendly territority. Said injury had resulted in the loss of an eye and Sheresh still wasn't entirely convinced that Sazen hadn't suffered a pretty severe concussion along with it. At the very least, he'd had a traumatic brain injury and Sheresh had been reading up on those as of late - even with a reinforced helmet to absorb impact, a hard-hit Mandalorian could sustain untold mental damage from a blow to the head.
What she was worried about most, was a change in personality, possible black-outs, and erratic behavior. Sazen hadn't exhibited any of that in the last week, but he also hadn't been outside of a tightly controlled military environment, either. This was their first afternoon of liberty and there was absolutely no telling what a male Iridonian in his prime could get into. Sheresh had a few hunches, though, and they all involved the many cantinas, bars, and social spots in the small town just outside the Spec Ops base.
Her approach was systematic. She'd started with what had been perhaps the seediest establishment on the very far northern edge of town and had worked her way from north to south. Once that was done, she'd scope the town from east to west, checking all of the cantinas along that line.
So far, the young medic had run into both Cros'ra and Ruusan. They'd been sitting outside at a small cafe, catching a late afternoon lunch together. It was absolutely no surprise to find that both of them had disregarded Sheresh's admonition to "eat more vegetables." The human male and Togorian female had barely cooked nerf steaks on their plates and Sheresh had rolled her eyes at the oozing pink mess.
There's match made in Manda, she'd thought, before asking them if they'd seen Sazen and then bidding them good day.
Cros'ra and Ruusan together made Sheresh smile to herself. The Zeltron part of her couldn't help a good romance every once in a while - no amount of human disposition or Mandalorian practicality could erase the traits her mother had passed down to her. She'd seen the way Ruusan's knee touched Cros'ra underneath the table; the way Cros'ra had actually seemed to pay attention when the Togorian talked.
She laughed to herself.
A match indeed...
She wondered idly if Togorians were "compatible".
That might be something to look up and get back to Ruusan about, before Cros'ra embarrasses himself...
Sheresh approached the next cantina on her way and sighed heavily. She loathed cantinas - couldn't even tolerate the smell of them. To her, they all smelled of unwashed bodies and old alcohol; they all felt like sin and cruelty. The past always threatened to remind her of what she'd been, once, before her cin vhetin - before she'd taken up her armor.
She avoided cantinas, if she could help it. But, Sazen needed to be found and checked up on. No one was going to look after him like she would.
So far, she'd been able to stand at the entrance of each establishment and either ask a bouncer to go in and ask around, or, the place had been small enough that she'd been able to take a head count on her own. This new place was small and so, she was able to do the later.
The medic leaned her shoulder against the open doorway and leaned her upper body into the dimly-lit cantina, as she looked from one end to another.
No Sazen, by the looks of it. But, a tall, imposing figure caught her eye and there seemed to be a hubbub of some sort. Sheresh was an intensely curious individual and she lingered a moment to take stock of the situation.
From what she could father in a few minutes, there was a group in a darker corner - she couldn't make out all of them - who were muttering something. She couldn't catch all of it, but she caught snippets of derogatory terms and the word "Mand'alore". The medic frowned, her eyes narrowing, and she tightened her grip on the kithara strap that crossed her chest.
The Mando who had first caught her attention had put on his helmet, so she couldn't catch his face. But, she caught his words -
"Ner ori'vode... Ni gai Corden, alor be aliit Vencu, al'verde be Te Atiniiryc Kisol bal te A'den be Mand'alor. All of you with honor and a will to fight are invited to join me in a new campaign to retake what is rightfully ours and in time, surge forward into open battle with our Republic oppressors. If you will not heed the call of your Mand'alor, then answer the call of your vode still fighting on distant worlds for not just eternal glory, but your very freedom. Transports will be waiting to the northeast, on the town outskirts. They depart at sundown."
The medic pursed her lips.
I haven't heard about anything about this... she thought, her brows knitting together underneath her buy'ce. Who is this vod?
One day, Sheresh would learn to keep out of trouble. Today wasn't that day.
"Vode!" she lifted her voice and her challenge carried crisply across the cantina and into the street - she stayed by the door, but that was because she'd never step foot into a bar if she could help it.
She addressed the one who seemed to have taken charge - the one who called himself Corden.
"Why wouldn't we heed the call of our Mand'alore?" Sheresh titled her head to the side, as she want to do when puzzled. "To imply such, of any Mando'ad, is a grave offense. What's going on here?"
----------------- [OOC: Not ignoring everyone else, btw! Just throwing that out there. Since Sheresh is just sort of "listening in", her attention would first be caught by the one making the most noise. LOL Feel free to respond, regardless - that'll pull her attention toward more than just Corden. ]
----------------- buy'ce - helmet aruetti - outsider, foreigner, non-Mandalorian buir - father or mother, dependent on context cin vhetin[/i] - Mandalorian concept that the past doesn't matter, once one has taken up his/her armor. Literally means "white snow". vod[/i] - brother vode[/i] - brothers [/size]
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last online Apr 12, 2012 12:15:47 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Jan 29, 2011 2:47:35 GMT -5
Post by Kirgal Skirata on Jan 29, 2011 2:47:35 GMT -5
Kirgal walked out of his transport shuttle and onto Concord Dawn earth. It seemed to have a certain atmosphere about it; something that Shogun could never achieve. He drew in a long breath through his cigarra, letting the smoke enter his lungs, before discarding its remains with a flick of his fingers. Kirgal waited a few seconds, taking in the momentary ecstasy before exhaling the smoke though his nostrils. He then applied his dominantly gray and blue trimmed helmet, completing his armored guise.
The ZeHethbra traced the engraved markings upon the helm, remembering that they were in the form of a teeth-baring wolf, which brought a grim smile to his masked visage. The fact that his kind had snouts even made it possible for others to think he was one.
Arousing himself from deep thought, he scanned the area in search for a place to resume his leave for the time being. Kirgal's eye caught a run-of-the-mill cantina that seemed conveniently placed. Without giving a thought toward its quality, he began to traverse the area toward it. To him, if they could make a decent drink, they were good enough.
He entered quietly, not wanting to receive any attention, though his appearance may have already caught it as soon as he entered. Kirgal naturally made his way to the bar and settled himself on one of the many stools like he always did.
Yearning for another cigarra, he retrieved one from his utility belt and relieved himself of his helmet. He set it aside on the table and procured a lighter to ignite one end of the cigarra and place the other between his lips. Kirgal then looked to the nearest bartender and hailed him over. "Any kind of whiskey you got, on the rocks," he ordered.
Kirgal observed the man as he went to fetch his drink, but then decided to pay attention to the others. He was never one of the out-spoken types, and never hoped to be due to his short temper, but he didn't mind a little eavesdropping.
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last online Jun 4, 2011 16:49:47 GMT -5
Youngling
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Jan 29, 2011 14:39:58 GMT -5
Post by Hammy on Jan 29, 2011 14:39:58 GMT -5
Well, so much for learning the game. At least he’d assumed correctly that it was a game. Watch and learn, indeed, he thought, watching Corden step up before the crowd and speak. Rollick shifted his weight to one foot, crossing his upper arms over his chest as he listened, half wanting to be convinced and half indifferent.
Since becoming more acquainted with Mandalorians, one thing had risen to trouble his otherwise glad feelings about ‘coming home.’ His father had been very sure to instill the concept of Resol’nare into him early on, but at the same time, avoided any kind of mass joining of arms. Well, being displaced and moving around, they rarely heard word from anybody even related to the Mandalorians, but neither did A’den Maar seek any out. Rollick had heard the term dar’manda before, both from his father and since being among other Mandalorians. But it was only recently that he began to understand how it might have applied to his father. It made him sad, curious, and determined to avoid following the same path.
Since A’den’s passing, there had been little cause or opportunity to proceed on two of the Six Actions – rallying to the Mand’alor and contributing to the clan. Right now was the perfect opportunity to address them. And to maintain who and what he was, he needed to be part of the cause.
The woman whose voice cut from the doorway was right, and controversy be damned. In spite of the mixed, turbulent atmosphere, Rollich stepped forward, throwing a fist into the air along with the older Mando’ad. “I second that. To refuse to rally would make us less than what we are. Are we Mandalorians at our convenience or are we Mandalorians?” He looked around a moment, violet eyes wide but sincere. He pumped his fist again for emphasis and barked, “Oya!”
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last online Sept 25, 2011 1:55:09 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Jan 29, 2011 20:18:23 GMT -5
Post by corden on Jan 29, 2011 20:18:23 GMT -5
Corden nodded, more to himself than for the benefit of those around him. His speech, as short and simple as it had been, had still garnered the desired effect.
Turning in the direction he had heard an unfamiliar female voice shout out just a moment before, he spotted a Mandalorian in brightly colored armor standing at the entrance, the quickly fading light of Concord Dawn's setting sun visible behind her.
"Our people, especially those living away from Manda'yaim, have a strained relationship with the Mand'alor. It wasn't long ago when they trusted him to lead them to victory and to never leave their homes and families unprotected. When our forces were defeated on multiple fronts and pushed back toward Manda'yaim, many of our worlds were abandoned to fend for themselves." Corden responded calmly in accented Basic, "Bane Haseful has inherited that shame and in the eyes of many Mando'ade, has made little effort in the way of paying back that debt to his people."
An elderly Mandalorian nearby muttered under his breath as Corden paused, "Gar serim, tat... Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa."
Corden turned back to the gathered crowd, motioning with a single gloved finger at all those present, "I offer all of you the chance to be the change that you want to see. With or without Mand'alor, we will bring the Republic to its knees and your aliite will have the freedom to grow and prosper. Aruetiise will never again dictate our destiny."
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Rabbit
Kella's Cohort of Peacekeeping Doom
272 posts
46 likes
Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it - Truth, Honor, Vision
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last online Apr 4, 2019 8:49:44 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jan 29, 2011 21:42:26 GMT -5
Post by Rabbit on Jan 29, 2011 21:42:26 GMT -5
Since she still had her buy'ce on, Sheresh allowed herself a moment to huff in the private confines of her "bucket." This wasn't she was expecting to find, during her search for Sazen. Rebellion? Dissention?
When did this happen?
Sheresh wasn't exactly up-to-date on Mandalorian politics, but there was one thing her Togorian buir had drilled into her head, the minute Sheresh's name had changed from T'iil.
"Honor equals loyalty. If you follow the Resol'nare, then you claim loyalty to the Mand'alor. No matter what. Your honor demands it."
Sheresh slowly reached up and pulled her buy'ce off. She shook her head a bit as she tucked it under her arm and ran a hand through her bright-red bangs. Her braid bounced across the back of her armor and she chewed her lip thoughtfully as she lifted her head and eyed the man who had turned to address her.
She sifted through the feelings in the room, opening up her Zeltronian empathy as she considered her next words. This was a delicate situation - anger, distrust, frustration, and resentment settled thick in the bar. It made her skin crawl and for a second, she flashed back to the cantina on Ord Mantell.
The medic cleared her throat and straightened her back proudly. This wasn't the time for flashbacks or memories. She was in uniform and had just come from the base - the base where Bane Haseful represented not only his position as Mand'alor, but her commanding officer.
What she said here, could weigh heavy - not just as a Mandalorian, but as a soldier. She licked her lips and considered putting her helmet on and walking away. This wasn't her fight.
Hel'buir wouldn't do that... And that settled that.
"May I see your face, ner vod?" she addressed Corden again. "My name is Shereshoy Par'jain. My aliit is Togorian. They've suffered under the Republic, but yet, they remain loyal to the Mand'alor. And before you speak too harshly of aruetiise," she stood, proudly. "Not all of us were born Mando'ad."
She paused - by all rights, she should have said her peace. But....well....Sheresh wasn't one to keep her thoughts to herself.
"I know the stories of the old Mand'alor and how he failed us. But, we shouldn't judge the decisions of one man on the failings of another," she paused and took a deep breath - her hands shook a bit as she tightened her grip on her buy'ce. "I'm a medic - I've been with our fighting vode as they're trying to reclaim our worlds. I've had more than enough blood on my hands, for the sake of our people. Don't be so quick to throw away more lives. I'm sure the Mand'alor has a good plan that will keep our sacrifices to a minimum - there has to be things going on that we don't all know about."
-------------------------------- [OOC: I just assume since we're all Mandos talking to each other, that we'd all be talking in Mandalorian. But I can't string together a whole conversation in Mando'a and I know most of the folks on the site can't read it. >.> But, just to throw out there...in my mind, Sheresh would be speaking in Mando'a to everyone. I just throw in the odd word or two for a bit of "flavor", to keep the confusion to a minimum. LOL]
-------------------------------- buy'ce - helmet Resol'nare - the "Six Actions" that guide a Mandalorian's way of life ner vod - my brother aliit - clan aruetiise - foreigners, plural Mando'ad - Mandalorian (literally, son/daughter of Mandalore) vode - brothers
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