Clarylla

[Clarylla]

Character Name: Sforza Ndo
Character Source: SWU; pending.
Character Faction/Alignment: Theoretically Republic, but mostly whatever will keep her skin whole the longest.
Type of Roleplay: Basically anything except dueling/pitched battling.
Roleplay Requirements: Either a foil or an enabler for her drunken habits is my only request.
Reason for Request: I haven't really roleplayed in about a year or so, so I'm definitely a bit rusty. I also want to get a good feel for how Sforza behaves outside my head. ^^
Notes: ...I don't think I really have any, except that I'm not easily bruised, so be honest if you see something you think I could improve.
Roleplay:

“Fine!”
The word exploded from the small Omwati woman, spattering the pub owner with Arcarggm-scented spittle. He calmly wiped himself off with a long-furred arm as Sforza went on, shaking a glinting mechanical hand in his face,
“You fink you can keep this plashe goin’ for a week wivvout a deshent ‘boardisht? Huh?” She glared unsteadily up at the stolid Wookiee, who grunted something guttural in reply.
“Oh, sure you could bring in a frakkin’ shliced-up prot’col droid. I bet it’d play Lapti frizzin’ Nek until itsh bloody audsh gave out!”
With that, Sforza Ndo abruptly stuck her tongue out at the Wookiee and stormed out of the pub, pausing only to empty her tip jar down the front of her dress for safekeeping. The heavy, humid air of Kashyyyk hit her like a wall of bricks, and the effect was such that she had to abruptly sit down, else risk tumbling over the edge of the platform.
Hmm…the edge. Flopping onto her stomach, Sforza wriggled forward until she could see down through the layers of the Wookiee town. The lights from dozens of windows danced merrily on the platforms and walkways, and she sighed, suddenly homesick for the crowded streets of Coruscant. Maybe, just maybe, if she let herself roll forward and fell fast enough, she could pretend that the enormous hairy Wookiees were the hundreds of different species that made their homes in the glittering city…
Something howled in the jungle below, jolting Sforza back to herself. Homesick? What? She shook her head and fumbled her way to her feet, automatically feeling for her hip flask. The instant her prosthetic fingers clicked against the battered silver container, she felt a little steadier, a little more at ease. A single mouthful of Arcarggm was enough to send her staggering towards the stairs leading to where she was pretty sure she’d rented a room. Or was it just a hammock? She couldn’t remember. At any rate, her bag was somewhere around here, and she’d just realized that she’d been wearing the same blue-green dress for almost three days now. Yecch. Absently, she wiped a dribble of Arcarggm from the corner of her mouth with the corner of a sleeve.
Besides, she’d made good on the tips this past night – she had to stop walking in order to make a quick count of the credits that had settled inside the bodice of her dress; trying to do both at once could have disastrous consequences – but it wasn’t even enough to buy an in-flight drink. Not unless she was going to cram herself in with the droids and cargo, and there was no way in the Core that was going to happen. No sir. The kind of cash needed to get an off-world ticket resided in a hidden place in…something in her bag. She didn’t quite remember what.
That could be problematic, come to think of it. There were enough things in her bag to make finding the neat bundles of credits difficult. They could be in her jizz case, under a stack of underwear, tucked into the lining of the bag itself…
First things first, though: finding the bag. Sforza was sure it was somewhere around here. She made a habit of never renting accommodations too far from her place of employment. That made it faster whenever she had to skip town, which happened with depressing frequency.
She squinted against the dim walkway lights, first one way then the other, trying to figure out where exactly she’d left the burning bag. Hadn’t the nice youngling outside the shuttleport said to…now, what had he said?
Something came flying out of the pub door behind her and landed with a whumpf on the walkway, accompanied by a derisive shout from the pub’s owner. The drunken Omwati picked up the worn blue bag, panickedly dug through to inspect the multiple instruments within to ensure they weren’t damaged, hugged it gleefully, and began wending her unsteady way towards the shuttleport. There was supposed to be a shuttle leaving sometime tomorrow – today? – for somewhere Corewards. N’zoth, maybe it’d been? That was supposed to be a nice enough place. Unless she was mixing it up with Alderaan. Alderaanians made good brandy, much better than the Arcarggm that currently sloshed on her hip.
Come to think of it, there wasn’t much Arcarggm left to slosh, or with which to get sloshed. That could be a problem, if her current state of sloshed-ness started to wear off during what would undoubtedly be an interminable flight. But, if she bought the absolutely cheapest ticket possible, she ought to have enough credits
Sforza shrugged to herself, spilling clothes half-out of the unfastened bag in the process. She’d go wherever the shuttles ran, carrying her tunes with her.
Just not Lapti Nek.

[Jazen]

{Again, my apologies for taking so long. I hope this is what you were hoping for; as a suggestion for the future, if you could place a space between your intended paragraphs, it will look much neater and be easier to read for your roleplay partners.

IE: “Fine!”

The word exploded from the small Omwati woman, spattering the pub owner with Arcarggm-scented spittle. He calmly wiped himself off with a long-furred arm as Sforza went on, shaking a glinting mechanical hand in his face,

“You fink you can keep this plashe goin’ for a week wivvout a deshent ‘boardisht? Huh?” She glared unsteadily up at the stolid Wookiee, who grunted something guttural in reply.}

Kashyyyk. How in the Corellian rocket blood did he find himself on Kashyyyk?

The answer to that question was a long and winding path of twists, turns and circumstances that even Shine had to think about hard to make sense of it all. First that botched run to the Core Worlds, the one where a Republic ship had decided to get the jump on him when he was on his way in. It had been a tough choice but ultimately, Shine had dumped the shipment a little off course of where it needed to go. Of course, he refunded the client his money and promised to do a future job for him...with better results.

Then he'd run into pirates on his way back and forced to play a game of life and death with them, just barely managing to keep his, Whiskey's and Vis's hide from being scorched and frozen in the depths of space. Only through their collective teamwork had they managed to get outta that fire, a fact that made Shine feel a little pride in his recruiting skills. Well, Vis had been given to him and Whiskey hadn't really put up much argument so long as she had a place to go. Still...go team.

The only teammate that hadn't fared so well, much to Shine's inner pain and chagrin, had been the Black Cat herself. Her hull was scarred with blaster scorching, several places had been opened to space after the shields had gone down....and a few key systems had taken a serious hit by that lucky concussion missile, followed by ion bursts that scrambled what was left. It had been a miracle that they'd survived, let alone gotten away. But they had. The only problem was that Shine had had to make a choice of where the Cat could make it so he could effect repairs. And fast.

And thus, he found himself on the homeworld of the massive Wookies. Not his first choice, but the Wookies were peaceful enough. And after a long winded conversation with one of them, the bulk of that talk being him convincing the Wookie that he was here only for aid and repairs, not to smuggle or take slaves. Thank the Force of what not that Vis had a built in translator on top of all the other little tricks he had at his disposal; otherwise that talk would have taken a lot longer then it did.

Now, as he stood staring up into the sky, or what little of it he could see past those massive treetops, Shine gave a long sigh that had been days in the making. Finally, after days of danger and impending death, there was nothing but peace. Turning his head from the sky, Shine let his eyes fall on the Cat. It hurt to see her all banged up and gutted like she was, almost as much as it would hurt to see Vis or Whiskey or anyone he knew in a bad way like this. But at least the repairs were well under way; the only thing he was waiting on now was for the rest of the parts to arrive from another city.

In the meantime....well frell. Whiskey had gone to collect said parts herself, at his request. She'd be faster then the Wookies at picking up the parts in a timely manner. And Vis had gone with her, to act as a translator to avoid any potential communication errors. Which left him with a large choice....should he seal up the ship and risk heading into town for a drink or two, see the sights? Or stick around here and keep picking at the areas of the ship that he could repair at this time? Decisions, decisions.....

He was about to shrug it off, say to heck with it and head off into town for a little R&R....when he noticed someone bumbling into the spaceport. Even from this distance, Shine could tell that it was a woman...figures didn't lie. What was interesting though, was the blue tinged skin that covered the exposed parts of her skin, a trait that became a lot more noticeable as she came closer. An...frell, what was the race called...Omwati right? She was also spilling clothes all over the place....an action that warranted the rising of an eyebrow from Shine. And a chuckle. Well, here I was getting bored outta my skull, about to go looking for some company...and I think it just walked into my lap. Things always get better after they get worse.

Moving towards her, Shine scooped up a few of the clothes that leaked from her bag into his hands(a shirt, some pants, a couple of pairs of...well, he wasn't gonna go there) and whistled to get her attention as he came up behind her. "I've heard of being in a rush before....but never enough to leave everything but the shirt on your back in the process. So pardon me, but I do believed you've dropped something...somethings.

Oh, and forgive my manners; I'm Shine by the way. And hi. I'm doing this all out of order, aren't I?" His voice and tone were light and humorous and a half smile lined his face. It was, after all, polite to be nice in first meetings with new people...and with any luck, he didn't come off as creepy.

[Clarylla]

Finally, after a number of wrong turns, near-falls, and curious looks from the locals, Sforza lurched her unsteady way into the spaceport. The transition from dimly-lit walkways to the brilliant lights of the spaceport made her glassy indigo eyes burn and blur, even filtered through dark glasses. "Turn dow' th' burnin' li'hts already, dun you know 's late?" she mumbled to herself.

Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she stumbled over the edge of the duracrete landing surface. Landing surface. Where ships landed. If any of them happened to come in for a landing right now, she'd be - she'd have to -

A sharp whistle interrupted Sforza's train of thought, and she instinctively whirled defensively...or at least, she tried to. Her thrice-blasted dress, however, had other ideas, and tangled its skirt around her skinny legs such that her attempted spin became a slow thud onto her behind. Blast it! That was the last time she was going to wear such a voluminous dress to travel.

The whistler approached, tall and threatening outside the ring of light, cast by a nearby glowstrip, in which Sforza sat. Its hands held an unidentifyable, yet ominous, mass. She clutched her bag protectively against her chest, feeling the credits in her bodice digging into her ribs, mind spinning wildly.

Her instruments. That had to be what the humanoid looming in front of her wanted. (She didn't even consider her credits or body as a motive. Why would anybody want a skinny, middle-aged, poorly-dressed Omwati with hands as monstrous as hers?) The jizz alone had taken her years to construct, using the best materials she could scrounge, beg, or buy - at least a decade of wages and love was invested in the long, thin reed. And the ivory panpipes Master Mezzof had given her, those were a work of art even without the delicate ink decorations or elaborate carvings.

Sweet Force, the thing had gold eyes, like a cat's. Wasn't that supposed to be a sign of ether-something use? She scooted backwards, away from the menacing thing, but her panic attack stalled when it stepped into her puddle of light and spoke in normal Basic tones.

"I've heard of being in a rush before...but never enough to leave everything but the shirt off your back in the process." It - he - appeared human enough to make Sforza relax marginally, though she retained a firm hold on her bag. Those eyes were blasted unnerving. "So pardon me, but I do believe you've dropped something...somethings."

Her eyes dropped to his hands, which proffered an untidy pile of various garments which she recognized as hers, and she frowned slightly. She should've made sure the bloody bag was closed; now she was going to have to find a laundry facility before she could wear those clothes again. Spaceport laundromats always charged the most exorbitant prices, too. This would cut into her slosh fund significantly.

Belatedly, she remembered that it probably wasn't the most proper for the stranger to be handing her those particular pieces of clothing. Quickly, she snatched at them (and missed) as he went on, "Oh, and forgive my manners; I'm Shine by the way. And hi. I'm doing this all out of order, aren't I?"

Sforza stared at him blankly, attempting to think back. What had he said first?...something about the shirt on her back. "Ish a dresh." she managed to slur. "Norra shirt, a dresh. There'sh a diff'r'nce." Peering past him, she made out the outline of a single ship, and he looked vaguely like a pilot, she supposed. She squinted up at him consideringly from the ground. A pilot with his own ship, that had possibilities. Most independent pilots cost more than a seat on a commercial flight, but there was always that off chance of a cheaper ticket...

"'m Sforza. Ndo." Even drunken silly on the potent Wookiee liquor, she could still roll the R and sound the silent N of her name with all the facility of a born musician. "Wookieesh have no tashte in mushic, you know. I tried t' play Briich's Nocturne No. 4," she sighed sadly at the memory of the melodic piece, fingers fluttering slightly against the worn synthetic of her bag, "but the owner in'er'rupt'd me and told me to play Lapti Nek! Of all the frizzin' shongs to requesht...Lapti Nek, rat a ran wim joct, co jappi quoff," she sang mockingly, and made another grab for her clothes, but missed again. "Would you pleashe give me back my clothesh? I need to fin' a flight off of thish hothoushe." Wobbily, she began attempting to push herself to her feet while retaining her two-handed grip on her bag.

ooc// Just for the record, I had to go hunt down Shine's application in order to figure out exactly what the heck he looked like (species, etc.), as there wasn't really anything in the post. Not that I mind, it's just something that might stymie someone else. ;D

[Jazen]

Shine had to avoid wincing and laughing at the same time when the woman turned to face him....and landed squarely on her behind. The move was one that would have had her whirled on him in an instant....had her dress not decided to play the spoil sport and turn what would have been a highly effective defensive move into a flop. Literally. Instinct kicked in as she did flop though and Shine lifted his eyes to stare at her face instead of them getting a look up the skirt that had doomed her move.

Her next actions though...well, they weren't unexpected but they were a bit surprising to him, considering how his approach had been calm, slow and in no way threatening. At least, he didn't think so. She must have thought differently though, because as he came closer, he could see her pull her bag, what was left of it anyway, against her body tight. Protecting it from harm. That, at least from his experience, meant that there was something she valued inside it. Or she was trying to use it as a shield to protect her body from harm or being oggled.

Both points were valid, although in this case, neither of them would find any ground. He wasn't about to go robbing this lady, completely not in his character to do such a thing. As for the latter reason....well, what kind of man would he be if that was his intent? He considered himself to be better then that and it was, quite honestly, the furthest thing from his mind when he'd approached her. Now all he had to do was convince this woman that his intent was to help, not harm or act sorely so he could gain later.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He would hopefully gain someone he could consider a friend or acquaintance. That was always worth attempting to grasp.

Something must have clicked in her mind after he mentioned her dropping some of her belongings, because her eyes dropped down to the collection of clothes in his hands and not a moment later, lashed out with a speed that even surprised Shine to snag them...or at least tried too. That earned a small chuckle and smile from him as he very carefully took a step closer and moved that bundle closer to her so she could take them easier.

She finally managed to find her voice apparently, though some of the words came out slurred at first, then more came out in what Shine guessed was an accent that came from them trying to speak basic. Not hard to get around; she wouldn't be the first person he'd come across that had a heavy accent that made some of the things they said...hard to understand. At least he could figure out mostly what she was saying without a translator.

"My apologies, the dress off their back. Though its merely a phrase you know, to say that your running off with only the stuff you have on your person. Which it does seem to be what you're doing. I could be wrong though, pardon me if I am."

He caught her gaze shift to something behind him and, out of a bit of caution, tilted his head to glance over his shoulder. But the only thing there was.....Ah he thought to himself. Turning his gaze back to her, he laughed lightly and gave a wide smile. "If you're wondering, yea, that's mine. Captain Shine Albartos, at your service."

He listened in calm silence as she started speaking, first her name and then what Shine could only guess was a rant about an event she had been part of in the city. The musical piece she spoke of wasn't one Shine was familiar with, but then again, it wasn't like he often went out of his way to enjoy what sounded like a classical piece. Or was it something from her homeworld....again, musical illiterate that he was, there wasn't any way for him to be sure without asking. She made another grab for her clothes and missed again, despite the fact that he'd all but handed them to her. Trying not to laugh anymore then he should at the attempt, Shine dared that extra step so that her clothes were practically in her lap while offering his free hand to assist her up.

"Would you pleashe give me back my clothesh? I need to fin' a flight off of thish hothoushe."

"I've been trying too. Just take a breath and take them from me; I don't bite, promise. I saw you leaving in a rush and all your stuff spilling out, so I came over to see if I could lend a hand. Honest, I'll swear on my pride as a pilot that was my only reason for coming over here. That and getting a chance to say hi to what looked to be a very stunning lady, Ms Ndo.

So your looking for a way off of Kashyyyk huh? I hate to be something of a spoiler but I just saw the last shuttle for the day take off...oh, about ten minutes or so ago. So if that was how you were getting off world, then you'll likely have to wait till tomorrow. Unless....." By now she should have been standing, with his help or not, so he took a step back to allow her some space. "Unless you don't mind taking an independent ship out. I think you may have already noticed, but as I've said, that ship back there is mine and I'm its commander. Provided where you wanted to go isn't completely out of the way, there's plenty of room for a passenger. And if you're thinking "there's got to be some kind of catch or monstrous fee", you have my word that there is neither. Sure, maybe a little credit but I can guarantee its cheaper then anything you'll find around here.

I figure it must be out of the blue and suspicious of me to even ask that, but like I swore before, I'm only trying to be helpful. Your welcome to take the offer or leave it and try elsewhere, I'm only stating what I already know. I'll be around a while longer if you'd like to take a look around though. And if its a problem because you're not familiar with me, Ms Ndo, I've certainty got the time to have a chat to hopefully fix that problem." He hoped she would notice he'd kept his hands away from his hips, where his blaster was holstered and where she could see them. It nothing else, it would hopefully alienate some of her doubts about him.

[Ah, I'll keep that in mind for the future. Thanks ^_^ And you listened to my advice, which makes me smile even more. Was a much neater looking read and a good reply, very nice.]

[Clarylla]

Practically as soon as Sforza asked, the pilot was holding her dropped clothes so close as to be almost in her lap. Ignoring the hand he offered, she paused in getting up and took her clothes with the exaggerated caution of the severely drunk. A moment later, they were tucked away in her bag, she zipped it shut, and resumed her unsteady clamber to her feet, accompanied by the pilot's droning on.

Belatedly, she remembered that he had offered a hand to help her up, and almost reached for it, but the sight of her mechanical monstrosity of an appendage next to his more-or-less normal digits made her pull her hand back in disgust at herself. Most people didn't appreciate the feel of cold metal on their skin, let alone cold metal that could flex and feel like a biological hand. Heck, she dreaded having to get dressed and washed in the morning, the prosthetics' touch was that unnatural.

Something about his pride as a pilot and a very stunning lady caught Sforza's ear as she adjusted her bag's strap over her narrow shoulder. She glanced around to make sure she wasn't in the way of whomever the stunning lady was, mildly confused. "'M sorry, I don' mean to hold you up," she mumbled abashedly, automatically reaching for her hip flask and taking a gulp of burning liquid as the pilot talked on and on. Where was that ticket office, again?

"I hate to be something of a spoiler but I just saw the last shuttle for the day take off...oh, about ten minutes or so ago."

"Well, frack that, then." she said - or, at least, she opened her mouth to say it. The stupid human kept talking so much that it was impossible to get a word in edgewise, so Sforza just stood there, swaying slightly, hands tucked away out of sight in her pockets, occasionally taking another mouthful of Arcarggm, until he ran out of steam.

"...and if it's a problem because you're not familiar with me, Ms Ndo, I've certainly got the time to have a chat to hopefully fix that problem."

Sforza stared at - Shine, yeah, that was his name, wasn't it? Captain of something or other? - with glassy indigo eyes, feeling the alcohol smoldering in the pit of her suddenly very empty stomach. He wanted to chat? What did he think he was, her friend? "I don' hold wiv chats. Nor do I hold wiv - wiv -" she verbally flailed a moment, then caught onto the word she wanted "- floobies. Shtupid females that frow 'emshelves at anyfing remotely male for credits, they don' have th' brains wiv' which they were born..."

Vaguely, Sforza sensed a distinct lack of interest in the subject from Shine as she rambled on, and attempted to remember what he'd said. Something about there not being exhorbitant prices and hidden catches in his offer, yes? Only trying to be helpful? Where had she heard that before?...oh yes, never. People didn't offer help to wandering drunks or random musicians, and when they did, it was a trap.

Trap. Her instruments. She wasn't falling for "helpful" again, not after that Twi'lek on Wroonia. Her eyes narrowed behind the dark glasses, and she clipped the flask back to her belt. "Helpful, that'sh a laugh. I'm headin' Corewards, but cut th' phobium, flyboy. What'd you really want from a poor mushician?" Automatically, she modulated her voice into an ominous minor key and added a hint of ritardando to the last words for effect. The end result was that she actually sounded rather threatening...if one didn't know that the speaker was a very drunk Omwati who probably couldn't hurt a Dekk fly if it sat still.

And then her traitor stomach growled, and ruined it the whole speech. Momentarily forgetting where she was, Sforza glared down at it and whispered, "Sharrup!"

ooc// Sforza's determined to be paranoid. Sorry. xD

[Jazen]

[Do remember that when Shine speaks at times, he's speaking in response to something she says. If she wishes to reply to what he says, you can assume he pauses to allow her to do that. Course, that wall of talk probably left no room for talk, didn't it, lolz]

Her third attempt to grab the clothes from him finally accomplished the task the previous tries had not, that bundle of assorted clothes was slowly taken from his offering hand and put into the bag of hers just as quickly. Considering that he was almost pushing that bundle at the time into her chest, failing to grab them would have been most amusing....and embarrassing for her. Of course, she did appear to be slightly on the tipsy side when he'd approached her before. Her accent made it difficult to tell if she was indeed slurring the words though, or if that was just how she spoke.

No matter the reason, the clothes were back in the rightful hands of their owner, a thought which made Shine smile politely as she finished sealing her bag and reached out her other hand to take his own. Her fingers were almost in reach of his own before something made her freeze in place. Shine noticed rather quickly that her eyes were no longer on him, but rather the arm she had stretched out to take his with. Part of him winced inside at the sight of the metallic fingers, wondering what painful event had led to the need of such a prosthetic...but the other side was torn between intrigue and sorrow. He'd seen replacement limbs before, but never up close. And if they were half as amazing as this one appeared to be...

But her reaction to seeing her own limb, and the following action she took in retracting it, made Shine believe she herself wasn't happy about it. Not at all. So he did the one thing he knew might just help; he smiled and kept his hand slightly out in case she changed her mind.

"If your worried about what I think of your arm, don't be. I actually think its rather interesting actually; I've never seen a prosthetic that could move so well."

She still didn't take his hand as she got back to her feet, but Shine couldn't hold that against her. What he did find most amusing though was that when he commented about her being a stunning lady, she seemed to look around her, as if searching for something. Or someone. Could she seriously thing that he had meant anyone but her? A moment later, when she mumbled something about being in the way and holding someone up, Shine blinked at first in confusion...and then his face resettled into its normal smile.

"Ms Sforza, I was referring to you when I made that compliment. I apologize if my way of saying it made it unclear; I hope I didn't offend, I really do."

She didn't say much else after that, or at least, Shine didn't really give her a chance, did he? He hadn't meant for his words to go on and sound so long winded, but that was something most smugglers did. Talk. In his case though, everything he said was at least helpful in some way. Or trying to be helpful, only she could really be the judge of that. Still, after finally making it to the request to have a talk to get to know each other better, so that she could say she knew him a bit and that his offer for a ride was now valid, Shine took a breath to replace what he could of the spent air and waited for her response.

Her answer....was quite the surprise. In a nutshell, she basically said no. In the bigger nutshell, she said no because she assumed that he mistook her for a lady that would jump onto any male that tossed enough money her way. He felt his pride weep at that a bit, the words not meant to insult but still found enough base to sound like one. Pulling his hand back to his chest, he lightly placed it there, giving her a look of both surprise and hurt, and then moving his hands to his sides..where she could see them both clearly.

"My apologies Ms Sforza; you wound me. I never asked you to throw yourself at me for anything. I merely offered a ride for someone who looked to need one and when you said that riding with a stranger was bad, I offered only to have a talk, a sit down if you would, to overcome that slight obstacle. If it makes you feel better, we can talk right here, like we've been doing and when its done I can offer again."

Again, he let her speak her mind, let her speak her worries to him about this whole event. And as she spoke, his mind took in those details and worked to correct the worries she had. He had to admit, he could understand where she was coming from; a man she did not know coming up and offering her a ride to the Core with no real strings attached. It was an offer that was too good to be true; and in most cases out here in the less civilized words, it was more often too good to be true indeed.

Come to think of it, it didn't really matter what planet it was on, save for some of the most upstanding places like Alderaan. Too good to be true found a home on just about any planet.

Finally, she asked the question he had expected to be coming. At attempt at digging for a darker motive behind his request, the threat in her voice coming across clearer then she probably knew. A part of his mind told him that his hand should rest near his blaster, just in case....but Shine wasn't surrendering to that part of his brain. For two reasons; one, she had been stumbling a bit earlier, indicating that she was tipsy. A tipsy foe was not a big problem. And the other...well how do you show your trying to be sincere by having a hand on your gun, really? Instead, he smiled and opened his mouth to reply...when her stomach growled. And that smile returned, along with a small laugh.

"Hey, speak for others, I know that I like to be helpful whenever I can. Now, you ask what I "really" want from you, a musician that sounds like she doesn't have a lot to her name?

Well, the answer is simple and comes in three parts. Firstly, I'd love to help you get wherever you need to go. Secondly, the price for such a trip will simply be....to hear you play something you honestly believe you can play well. I'm not much of a music guy, but I do know its nice to try something new here and there. Honestly, a simple tune or a song if you know one or even just a few notes; I wouldn't go taking from someone who needs it far more then me.

And lastly...and I do think your stomach agrees....I would quite enjoy your company for a meal. On me of course, though I ask one thing though. A small request actually; may I hold your hand for a moment? I've never actually felt what a prosthetic hand feels like and my mind is pestering me with its curiosity. I promise, only for a moment and that you will hear no terrible remarks from me."

[Clarylla]

Sforza scowled. Her altered vocal dynamics had disappointingly little affect on the ridiculously cheerful fellow...and the embarrassingly loud growl of her stomach set him off again.

"Hey, speak for others, I know that I like to be helpful whenever I can..."

Only this time, he wasn't extolling his own virtues and lack of malice...well, yeah, he was. To hear Shine tell it, he was a bloody paladin, riding in to save damsels in distress. She snorted, making no particular effort to hide her skepticism - the Core he was looking to give her a free lift! Best-case scenario, he took her instruments and credits and left it at that. Worst-case scenario...well, that didn't bear thinking about, but she'd heard stories. Everyone had heard about what happened to a friend of a friend's cousin when she decided to walk home, after dark, by herself, by the spaceport. No way Sforza was going to become another one of those stories. She slung her bag across her body and let him talk.

As the pilot made one ridiculous offer after another - a song for a ride! Dinner on him! No strings attached! - Sforza's countenance grew darker and darker. Apparently this male was more desperate for romance than a H'nemthe; he was talking to her (her! Booze-breathed, skinny-boned, middle-aged, in-need-of-a-shower Sforza Ndo!) like she was some kind of a, a Twi'lek or Zeltron or something. Nobody talked to drifting drunks like they were actually people, like they were prizes to be pursued or, or, or something.

Absently, Szfora chewed on the side of her lip, worrying at a scab left from falling out of her hammock the day before, wondering what kind of spice this pilot was snorting. Maybe she had been transplanted into some holoactress's body by mistake, taken for dead while passed out drunk.

One hand slipped carefully into a pocket, long mechanical fingers closing stealthily on the grip of her blaster and easing it loose of the entangling fabric. If the gorram pilot made one more pseudo-platonic overture, she would not be responsible for the consequences.

"...may I hold your hand for a moment?"

At the audacious request, Sforza's jaw dropped. Really? He had the bloody nerve to think that after she'd clearly expressed her lack of interest and discomfort with physical contact, however young and hot he might think himself, she would hold his hand? Stupid young hotshots. Did she look like a rotted cougar to him?

"I promise, only for a moment and that you will hear no terrible remarks from me."

It took both hands, but Sforza still had the ELG-3A leveled at Captain Shine Albartos's torso in almost less than a heartbeat. The muzzle wavered slightly from side to side as her arms shook under the unaccustomed strain, but her voice (E-flat-harmonic minor, 5/4 time, was metronome-steady.

"Damn shtraight I'll 'ear no tur'bble remar's from you, bushter, 'cause I'm 'a go schit in th' lobby now an' if I hafta wait 'till tomorrow f'r a shu'le, well, I c'n wait. I've shlept on lobby coushes b'fore." The little Omwati ever-so-slowly began to feel her way backwards. A stray inconsistency in the landing pad's surface could be disasterous with this much alcohol in her system. "An' if you fink you're a' follow me an' cause trouble..." She waved the blaster threateningly. "You c'n go crink y'self afore I call 'port secur'y."

Of course, the blaster didn't work. Had it carried a proper power pack, its weight would've been beyond even both her arms' lifting ability. With a dummy duraplast cover over the socket, however, it certainly looked real enough to give pause to most sentients, and Sforza'd gotten fairly good at bluffing with it over the years. Frell, she'd gone and bought a stupid little sight for the top, just because that little laser dot was a heck of a lot better deterrent than just the blaster alone.

Right now, she could only keep on backing up, and hope that the over-confident little chuff-sucker wouldn't call her bluff...



ooc// I know, I know, it's been a long time. =3333 However, I do have one small request to make: would it be possible for you to cut down on the amount of conversational ret-conning that occurs? It makes it really difficult to write a coherent reply if we're continually updating the beginning of the conversation into a reasonable dialogue while trying to finish the end of the conversation at the same time. >.>

[Jazen]

Shine had to give the woman credit; she had pulled that blaster out fairly quickly. if she hadn't has stepped back a few steps, the blaster she held would have been pressed against his chest, a terrible idea when holding a weapon to somebody. Made it easier to snap the thing to the side to avoid getting a hole put in you. Whether or not she had done so knowing that or out of simple fact that she had been trying to back away, he didn't know. What he did know was that there was a blaster leveled at his chest. Oddly enough, he wasn't scared. At least, he didn't show it.

He admired the weapon for a moment; an ELG-3A from the look of it. Not a bad weapon. Then he turned his attention towards Sforza.

At her words, troublesome at times to understand, Shine quirked an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. Somewhere in this conversation, he realized, she must have gotten the wrong idea about his intentions. Or rather, had been in this situation before and had run into the wrong intentions, thus staining her against any other forms of honest kindness. The thought amused Shine and he would have laughed about it; except that might make her shoot. It was time for diplomacy.

"Now hold on a minute; I think you've got the wrong idea here. Or rather, got the wrong idea about me. I don't know if you've had a bad experience before in this kind of situation or you just don't trust people, but my only intent here was to help someone who looked to need a hand.

By the way...you might want to be careful with that thing. Especially considering the fact I can smell the night of partying or the like on your breath. Now, let's just put the blaster down and let's talk about this like civilized people. Hey, I'll even put down my own blaster. So...a truce okay?"

To indicate he was being serious, he put his arms out to either side, raising them slightly to indicate surrender. What she didn't need to know, however, was that he had a holdout blaster hidden in his sleeve. Should she try anything funny herself, well...he was ready for it.

[Better I hope. And no worries about taking so long; I'm surprised you even opted to continue xD]

[Clarylla]

"Now hold on a minute; I think you've got the wrong idea here..."

Wrong idea? Whatever had put that thought in his head? She'd only been cold and prickly and get-the-frick-away-from-me the entire time he'd been talking at her.

He was eyeing her blaster, but those gold eyes - frell, but they were unnerving! - were more warily appreciative than properly intimidated. Bugger.

"...but my only intent here was to help someone who looked to need a hand."

Aaaaaand more of his spiffy white horse and assuming she couldn't take care of herself. Really, what did he think she'd done for the past twenty-odd years? Sforza had cut those apron strings herself. She didn't need anybody to lend a hand or look out for her, thank you very much. Besides, few n'er-do-wells had any interest in a scruffy, drunken, middle-aged musician. Those who did, found themselves in the exact same position as, as, wossisname, Shine.

"By the way...you might want to be careful with that thing." He motioned to her blaster, and she suppressed a drunken giggle and waved the ELG-3A around a little more for dramatic effect.

"Especially considering the fact I can smell the night of partying or the like on your breath. Now, let's just put the blaster down and let's talk about this like civilized people. Hey, I'll even put down my own blaster. So...a truce okay?"

Sforza paused in her careful retreat to snort indelicately at Shine's words. Her voice crescendo'd, gaining volume and anger. "Firsht, I c'n count on one hand th' number 'f partiesh to whish I've been, and t'night wasn' one 'f 'em. You fink I drink like thish for the heck 'f it?" She spat off to the side. "Frell no...but that'sh none of your bushinesh. Anyways, 'civilished people' don' chashe down-on-their-luck women wif 'no shtrings attached' offersh even when she shpecifically tells them to bugger off; that'sh what you get from a--"

The inevitable - a flaw in the duracrete, less than a centimeter, caught the heel of her worn shoe - happened, interrupting her spiel. Her blaster clattered to the ground as her arms windmilled for a moment, but the flailing did her no good. For the second time in less than an hour, the Omwati tripped over her own feet. This time, however, she was not so lucky in her landing: instead of her thinly-padded rear end, she landed squarely on the side of her left ankle. It let out a sickening crack! and gave way, sending her sprawling on the landing strip with an involuntary shriek of pain...



ooc// Rawr, cheesy. xD And yes, much better on the conversational retconning. Thankee. =3 And meh, I unfortunately lack threads in which to post. v.v So when I can post, I do.

[Jazen]

(OOC: Hey, no worries. You asked for a test thread for her and this is going along well. And your welcome; *has learned something new himself*)

Shine's calm tone and non-threatening approach didn't seem to be having the desired effect. Sforza still had her blaster level with his chest, was still backing away step by step, still watching him with wary eyes filled with a mix of distrust and amusement. Shine wasn't sure what he had done specifically to deserve this kind of reaction, but it was slowly grating on his patience.

Well, at least she hadn't shot him yet. That was something.

When Sforza spoke again, Shine couldn't help but admire the way her voice seemed to change in pitch and tone whenever she spoke. Before it had been soft and delicate, easy on the ears. Now, as her adrenaline was likely kicking in, that tone had increased in both volume and pitch, giving her voice an edge it did not have before. It sent a shudder down his spine...and put the first real hint of danger into his mind. Not because he believed she would shoot him unless he did something drastic, no. But there was the chance she might shoot him by accident.

"Now just wait a minute, all I did was offer a ride. How does that translate to chasing a down-on-her-luck woman? It's called being a good Samaritan you...hey watch where you're..."

Shine didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Sforza found the rest of it with action rather then words. With her attention focused almost entirely on him, she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. As a result, a rut in the ground had managed to catch the heel of her shoe, which sent her fumbling and flailing as her balance became non-existent. For a brief moment, Shine feared in her panic that she would fire off a shot. Lady luck must have smiled down upon him in that area at least, as the blaster instead clattered to the ground as she tossed it amongst her panicked flailing.

Shine was quick to move; not quick enough to save her ankle from suffering that sickening sound that made it clear she'd snapped something within, but quick enough to save her from suffering what would have been an equally painful landing on the hard ground. Moving close quickly, Shine wrapped an arm around behind her to stop her descent, then carefully lowered her to sit on the ground instead. "Careful now...pretty sure you damaged your ankle on the way down. How bad is it? Does anything else hurt?"

Shine respectfully was keeping his hands to doing a minimal; one on her shoulder to support her and the other on his knee, tilting his head between looking at her and examining her ankle. It was already swelling, but at least it didn't look too serious. If he could get her some kolto quick.