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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 19, 2013 16:20:36 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 19, 2013 16:20:36 GMT -5
Horst nodded as his suspicions were finally confirmed vocally. The sole reason that Ervisa had ever even given him the time of day was the fact that she had nothing better going on. What bothered him about that wasn't the fact that she could ditch him at any given moment for something better; he'd figured that out a while ago.
What bothered him was that she wasn't going out and finding something better. Something wild and adventurous and amazing and full of spectacles of every kind.
Instead she was still on some backwards jungle-planet with him, the worst communicator in sentient history.
Horst bit back a sigh, somewhat relieved. The truth had ways of relaxing him, even if it wasn't necessarily what he wanted to hear. Overall he valued truth over his own happiness; he wasn't a smart man, and he therefore made sure that all of the cards on the table were in nice, big print, easily readable.
"Yer' lucky then." Horst rested his chin on the railing, sitting down and continuing to look out at the moonlit canopies of the jungle. "I ain't never had some kinda' plan."
The solid truth was that Horst had been living virtually by the moment since he'd run away from the orphanage all those years ago. He'd met Rorry on a whim and come to live with him. He'd met Geog on a whim and joined the army. The only constant he'd ever had was making trouble and shooting people, and what sort of pathetic standards were those?
"Ervi, if ya've got some kinda' vision of what yer' life should be, don't just dream about it. Go out n' get it, n' don't let nothin' keep ya' from it."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 19, 2013 16:35:22 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 19, 2013 16:35:22 GMT -5
Ervisa snorted indignantly as she tossed her cigarette butt into the ocean and retrieved a new one from the box. She rolled it between her slender green fingers and bitterly thought back on her plan.
"You know what my plan was?" The Mirialan woman asked rhetorically.
Like any good rhetorical question she answered it herself.
"I was supposed to raise my Padawan into a Jedi Knight, and then become a Jedi Master. I would be wise and powerful, with experiences of all kinds that would prepare me for the day when they made me a High Councilor. I'd always longed for that since I was a little girl."
An amber glow lit up her features as she lit the cigarette, revealing a deep frown. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain that she was deeply unhappy looking back on this. It was for good reason too.
"Instead he died, and I died too. I gave up on my dreams and my plans, and for what? So I could be a drunk skank sleeping across the galaxy for years. And what's my big prize for terrible choices?"
Ervisa puffed on the cigarette, flopping onto her back and staring up at the sky again. She let out a deep and long sigh.
"Sitting here on a boat and realizing the only thing I've got left for me is this. Eating a cheeseburger on a boat. No Jedi Council, no great adventure, no amazing destiny. Just the agonizing reminder every day of what a miserable failure I've been."
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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 19, 2013 16:48:47 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 19, 2013 16:48:47 GMT -5
Horst considered her story grimly, his blue eyes hardening a bit as the motion of the ocean transformed from a sweet caressing to a nauseating swelling. Horst had heard stories like hers... but that didn't make them any less awful.
And the worst part was that there was nothing that either of them could do about it. There was no fight that could be won, or prize that could be reached, or even oasis that could be used to rest. There was just cold, hard results of a multitude of mistakes.
But there was, at least, one other option.
"Then ya've gotta' start over." Horst still rested his chin, so instead of his jaw moving up and down, it was rather his head. His hands grasped and twisted around the bar lightly, the cold metal slowly warming at the Corellian's touch.
"When one plan crashes, ya've gotta' roll with it n' take up a new one." That, at least, Horst knew how to do. Perhaps he'd never had an all-encompassing life plan, but to his credit nothing had ever really stopped his momentum. Nothing except for Geog's death; that dark period of doing nothing but running past Republic check-points, living under a false name in a factory, and even being enslaved.
And even then, he'd hopped on the chance of getting a new plan. Spearpoint.
"Otherwise... life gets cold." Horst sighed again, trying not to think about those bitter 4 years. 4 years of sulking and unnamed rebelliousness toward anything and everything. 4 years of longing and sadness.
Never again. Horst silently hoped that Ervisa wouldn't stay there either.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 19, 2013 17:07:37 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 19, 2013 17:07:37 GMT -5
"It's not that simple," Ervisa snapped, pulling a locke of hair off of her face, blown there by the ocean breeze. Promptly she regained her control though. Unlike most, the Mirialan's anger rarely lasted beyond a few minutes.
Mostly she turned it inward in self-destructive behaviors or anxiety that bubbled up later. That was just the curse of her personality.
"I don't even know why I'm alive. I have no purpose here. I'm just lost, like... Like a seed dropped by a bird, in a distant wood. I don't know what my life is about, or what I'm supposed to do. I don't have a plan. What's the point anyway when they all fail?"
The Mirialan woman felt the hot tears building up in her eyes and she at up and turned her back to Horst, leaning heavily over the railing and staring down at the water.
Th cigarette fell from her hand into the water as tears slid down her cheeks. Tears of embarrassment and shame, and guilt at being so weak. Ervisa Therani was supposed to be a strong Jedi, not a frightened little girl. But with everything ripped away from her, what was left?
Nothing. Nothing was left. And how could she live with nothing?
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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 19, 2013 17:18:38 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 19, 2013 17:18:38 GMT -5
Horst watched with concern as Ervisa began to cry softly, her cigarette even falling from her lips into the deep sea below. Her words were sour and sad, like a broken music player playing a sad, sad song.
It made Horst's heart pang. He hated that feeling. Why had it come back after all this time, huh? Just to make life harder still?
Horst bit his fist, his mind simply trying to keep him from puncturing his own skin. It succeeded, but in the place of a cut was instead a bite mark, deep and red, on the Engineer's meaty, crude hands. Hands that had always just thrown punches or fixed wires or pulled triggers.
Weak hands. Hands that never had the balls to do something real with their time.
But what could he say? He was just as lost as she was. He didn't know why he fought; he just fought. He didn't understand why he thought he was supposed to do certain things; he just did them.
What good was that gut of his? Why did he follow it?
"Hey..." He still looked off toward the sea, not trusting himself to see her crying. The last thing to do was to fly off the handle (as per usual) and punch something. Again.
"... even lost seeds can grow."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 19, 2013 17:34:27 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 19, 2013 17:34:27 GMT -5
It seemed there was no good reply to make. Everything she thought of to say sounded utterly ridiculous, or whiny, or self-serving. The Mirialan woman didn't like that. Much the same way that she hated her crying actually.
The ex-Jedi worked very hard to control the gentle sobs, and then regulated her breathing. In, out, in out.
Slowly she calmed, and was left with one thought in her mind.
"What kind of seed am I Horst?" Ervisa asked wearily as she rubbed her eyes. "What am I going to grow into?"
That was the central question of her life. What came next?
The problem was that Ervisa didn't know. She was clueless as to what her life held, as to what came next. Everything? Nothing? Marriage? Prison? Death? The future wasn't a blank slate; it was an enigma.
The green-skinned woman turned to look at Horst, though he was little more than a silhouette in the dark. Bulky, massive. So strong, and yet she could feel that he was like her inside; a prisoner. He was captive to love, and she was owned by her own passions.
Was there room to build a future together?
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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 19, 2013 17:46:59 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 19, 2013 17:46:59 GMT -5
Horst was forced to simply focus on the intake of air to his lungs as Ervisa finally managed to stop crying. This entire thing aggravated him, seeing her so sad. It made him angry; angry at the world for being such a cruel sonuvaBantha, angry at himself for not being able to help her even remotely, and even a little angry at her for having just let life throw her around.
Nobody deserved that. Especially not her.
When she asked her question, Horst had closed his eyes, focusing on his lungs and, as they pressed against his sense of touch and movement, the swells of the sea slowly starting to become more vigorous as the sea began to shift, the tide coming in. The chain that attached the sailboat to its anchor gradually went taught, and soon they were bobbing in place.
"I ain't a farmer..." He grinned. That was just awful. "... but I can tell ya' that yer' a good seed." He nodded; he didn't know much, but that, at least, was for certain.
Because Horst could see past that lush green skin and even that sad, horrible sobbing. When he looked at Ervisa, he saw a good person, simple as that. Sure, she had baggage, history, and troubles by the number. Who didn't?
What counted was that, at her base, Horst saw someone who could be better. All it would take was a little bit of hope.
"Ervi, I can't tell ya' what yer' gonna' be... I don't even know what I'm gonna' be... but I can tell yer' gonna' be somethin' nice." He finally looked over at her, smiling a small smile.
"All ya' gotta' do is find out what nice somethin' that is." He felt another one of those pangs in his heart, but this one didn't hurt as much. He still detested the feeling, but this was... better. Less of a sting and more of a...
... more of a flash. A flash of hope.
Hells, I'm corny.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 19, 2013 17:56:41 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 19, 2013 17:56:41 GMT -5
Ervisa sighed and hung her head. This right here was not her goal, her hope, or her dream. Horst was doing all he could, but she was too stubborn in her ways to change just because of a kind word. Even lost confused, and alone she still couldn't force herself to admit that.
And she couldn't consider herself a good person. Good people didn't use drugs, or get drunk, or sleep around. She had done all of those things, and wasn't about to consider herself good or nice now.
The Mirialan woman lay back on the bow again, her long legs still stretched out before her. She let out a sigh and folded her arms across her chest, staring up at that damn sky and wondering how one night could have so many ups and downs.
"This is why I drink Horst," She said abruptly after a long moment of silence. "Because I don't see any hope of turning into something nice. I could have been the finest orchid, and now at my best I could be... I don't know. A daisy. Growing by the side of the road, or in a crack in the sidewalk."
Ervisa rose to her feet and stretched.
"Do you have any alcohol here?"
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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 19, 2013 18:24:10 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 19, 2013 18:24:10 GMT -5
Horst bit his tongue in a bid not to start talking again. She didn't believe there was any hope? That she was forced to do whatever life told her?
In the vast galaxy there were numerous people like Ervisa in that regard. They all thought that hope was just some fairy-tale ending people could tell them in order to make them feel better. Whether it was an afterlife, or the classic "Things will get better" encouragement, it was all just crap.
Horst was simply too stubborn to believe that though. He hadn't become at all what he wanted. He didn't have kids or a house or even someone close. All he had were war-stories, guns, and the know-how to use them. Whatever capacity he might have had for a nice life, one that didn't involve a barracks or an armory or training or...
... or anything violent. Just once, Horst wouldn't mind being a nice guy.
Fat chance Stellar. Standing up, Horst scratched his stubble. He was inclined to agree; some booze was in order. "Lemmie check." Glancing at those no-good stars again, Horst walked across the deck and opened up one of the hatches, descending into the belly of the ship. He browsed around, not really sure of what to look for, before finally happening upon a small crate packed with beer.
That made frown. Of course he took one of the packs back up with him, but he had sort of been hoping for something legitimate.
Popping back up out of the hatch, Horst held up the six pack with an unenthusiastic look. "Tha' bastard that owns this thing's only a brew-chugger." Unfortunately, Horst's foresight had only gone so far.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 19, 2013 18:47:01 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 19, 2013 18:47:01 GMT -5
Ervisa eyed the beer with distaste, as it wasn't her favorite beverage. It was just a simple light beer with lime. Mercifully it wasn't regular or artisan, something so filling you'd never be able to drink enough of it to get drunk.
However, she snatched a can and popped it open, raising it to her lips and taking a long swig of the amber liquid before she leaned heavily against the back of her seat and propped her bare feet up on a crate.
It was going to take a while to get drunk.
The Mirialan woman sighed, for the thousandth and not for the last time.
"I just don't know what to do or think anymore. What do you want out of this Horst? Out of us?"
One of the crappier inquiries Ervisa had ever made, but she didn't really see much choice in it. She needed facts, needed information. There had to be something, anything, concrete. She needed something to work for.
"Don't hold back. Just- Be honest. Tell me what you want out of this."
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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 20, 2013 0:36:31 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 20, 2013 0:36:31 GMT -5
Horst popped open a can of the frilly beer himself, making an odd face just by the smell. This qualified as alcohol? He took a sip; his mouthwash was stronger than this orange water. What were these, cans of beer or cans of soda?
Sighing, he leaned against the wall, drinking what he felt should have a little umbrella popping out of it. Of all the drinks he could have used right now, he got a light beer with lime? That was it?
It was almost like that old fast-food campaign. Where's the booze?
Ervisa's question made the can of water- er, beer suddenly seem a whole lot more appealing. Horst chugged it quickly, trying to feel any kind of buzz, tingle, or warm feeling in his body as he quickly popped open a second can, taking another nice long sip.
... Nothin'. And there was a second, longer sigh. A buzz would have helped his nerves at least, since apparently they liked to start becoming shaky for Ervisa despite the fact that they were stone-cold for everyone else.
Just another lovely effect.
Taking another sip of his ember-water (he refused to call it a fire-water of any kind), Horst's voice was deep. "Ya' want tha' short version 'r tha' long version?" An intelligent man might have left it there.
Then again, Horst wasn't going to be winning any awards for his smarts any time soon.
"Long version is that I wanna' be able ta' wake up in tha' mornin' n' not just feel lika' set a' dogtags. Two decades've taught me that soldiers? We're expendable. Just another guy in tha' line. If ya' stay in tha' line fer' a minute? There's some shmuck just waitin' ta' take yer' spot. If ya' live long enough? Ya' get ta' see yer'self get old, yer' friends die instead 'uv ya', n' tha' army eventually get tired 'uv yer' sorry *ss." Finishing the second can, Horst burped as he tossed it to the side, reaching for a third. How many beers equaled a nice whiskey? He was determined to find out.
"Short version's just that I don't really have anybody any more... n' that kinda' livin' gets lonely."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 20, 2013 16:57:58 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 20, 2013 16:57:58 GMT -5
Ervisa downed her beer and popped open a second one as Horst talked, feeling the need for alcohol magnified at his words. He didn't just want sex or a good time; he wanted constant companionship on an emotional level, and the Mirialan woman wasn't sure if she could deliver on that. Or if she wanted to.
The sad thing was that she could relate to being lonely. Ervisa had been without true companionship for a long time, but hers was chiefly by choice. The emerald-skinned woman didn't let anyone get close, because it caused troubles, and it caused grief. You'd just disappoint people, or worse, lose them.
And it was better to just live without anything to lose.
Ervisa drained the second can of beer and grabbed a third. She could feel the faint beginnings of a buzz now, and she knew the third can would tip her into the firm category of 'buzzed,' which would make her a whole lot better company.
After draining the third, she finally spoke.
"Horst," She began slowly. "I'm lonely too. But I get by with a one-night stand, or a nice date. Why do you need anything more? Don't you realize it's just going to hurt you?"
Ervisa closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the side of the boat, stretching her stiff arms.
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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 20, 2013 18:08:01 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 20, 2013 18:08:01 GMT -5
Finishing a third can of his own, Horst reached for a fourth, only to discover that they'd burned through that six-pack pretty quickly. He hadn't noticed prior, but it seemed that Ervisa was trying just as desperately to get buzzed. That, at least, he could understand. Reaching into the crate, he pulled out another six-pack, plucked off a beer, and popped it open. There was something resembling a warm-feeling in his gut, but he suspected it was more along the lines of gas than intoxication.
Still, it was better than nothing.
Ervisa made her claim, and Horst grinned, swirling the liquid in his can, watching the orange liquid swirl and bounce the little light that was around across its surface. As he took another sip, he sat on the crate, drumming his fingers on the can.
"Yeah, I know..." That brought on a soft chuckle; the kind that was amused with a notion, and not so much with a situation. Why did he want to go through all that? Why did he want to put himself at risk of losing another person? That had been his logic those years, hadn't it? Don't let anyone get close? Don't get caught?
Don't let anyone else get hurt?
And yet, he'd been dead miserable those four years. Every day he'd felt himself getting more and more sour and statuesque. It wasn't living; it was slowly feeling himself die, his heart turning to stone, and even his hope slowly sputtering out. Horst had hated that feeling, and he knew that as long as he drew breath he'd do whatever he could to avoid it again.
"... but I guess in a way I kinda' wanna' be hurt." That prompted another brief chuckle, the statement sounding a lot crazier out loud. "'Cause fer' every time I got hurt... well, there were two times I was happy." That got him chugging his beer again, crushing the can once more.
He usually didn't use the word "happy".
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 20, 2013 18:25:44 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 20, 2013 18:25:44 GMT -5
Another two beers came in rapid succession, and then he wanted to get hurt.
Out of all the damned idiotic things he'd ever said, that ranked as undisputed number one on the stupid charts, the very worst he could muster. There was no way of excusing that or rationalizing it. While you could justify almost anything, you couldn't justify getting hurt.
Unless you were a masochist.
"What the hell Horst?" Ervisa said, narrowing one eye.
"Do I have to pull out a whip and some leather thigh-highs?"
That was her best contribution, as the amount of beer she'd downed without throwing up was starting to do its job and improve her mood. Admittedly not as much as spice would have, but this wasn't bad.
"Want to be hurt my green ass," The Mirialan woman said as she fished out another cigarette and lit it. "No one wants to be hurt unless they're a masochist."
Her eye narrowed again as she searched Horst for some visual cue he was into being beaten or tied up. Because if it floated his boat, maybe she would put on a little officer hat and stick a clamp on tender parts. People did funny things when they were in...
Love.
Oh frak.
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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 20, 2013 23:53:42 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 20, 2013 23:53:42 GMT -5
Horst blinked at the reaction, not expecting it. Sure, there were some weirdo sexually-repressed individuals into that sort of odd, kinky... whateverthehellyouwouldcallit, but he thought that considering they'd started this relationship with sex, it was sort of obvious that he wasn't one of them. He knew it sounded crazy, but he hadn't meant it sexually at all. Putting down his beer, he rolled his eyes. "Not like that Ervi!"
Still, he couldn't help but chuckle a little more. Of all his screw-ups tonight, that had to be one of the funnier ones.
"All I'm sayin's that pain ain't always a bad thing." He blinked, realizing that his words were still pretty unclear. "Pain bein' emotional pain n' all that." He grinned, talking on. "Most a' tha' people that ever made me wanna' punch somethin' made me wanna' laugh twice as much. It's just tha' way those kinda' things are, ya' know?" He looked up at her, displaying his grin as he finished off his fourth beer.
It was true; the reason he was willing to do all of it all over again, the pain, the loss, the rough nights when he couldn't help but think about all of their smiling faces as he lie awake at night, was because for every time he'd felt awful, there had been another one that had made him chuckle, or smile, or both.
And happiness was worth more than sorrow any day of the week.
Besides, Horst was never a man to surrender. If a few bad experiences were all it took to get him to quit something, he never would have become a mechanic, never would have gotten into the army, never would have made Spec Ops, and never would have joined Spearpoint.
"'Sides, it ain't like ya' just go through life 'thought anybody. Not unless ya' wanna' go crazy." The Engineer took his beer back up, finished the can.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 21, 2013 3:11:13 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 21, 2013 3:11:13 GMT -5
"Crazy," Ervisa scoffed. "You say that like it's a bad thing, but think about it for a minute."
The Mirialan added another can of beer to her system as her buzzed thoughts continued to stream out of her mouth without a filter. Admittedly the normal filter didn't catch much, but now it was operating at an even lower rate.
"When you're crazy, you get a free pass. If someone gives you grief, just act like you've got a screw loose and they leave you alone. 'Sides that..."
Ervisa laughed for a few good seconds as the chief reason popped into her head.
"It feels good. Just really... Liberating. When you don't have to worry about what makes sense or what is sane, you just feel a whole lot better. And if you're like me, you just do whatever feels right at the moment and don't worry about anything else."
That was her musing on sanity. And as silly as it sounded, she'd probably have stood by it when completely sober as well. Ervisa didn't tend to worry about the labels others had for her, and focused more on her own labels.
If she could just get those to STFU everything would be perfect.
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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 21, 2013 22:35:13 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 21, 2013 22:35:13 GMT -5
Horst considered her response lightly, polishing off the beer he'd set down. They were almost done with their six-pack again; a nice indicator of how they both wanted to be hammered as soon as possible. The odd thing though was that as they did indeed start to develop that buzz, they only seemed to be immersing themselves in each other's company more and more.
Like trying to soak up a bucket of water with another bucket of water.
When she was done, Horst grinned. "Ervi, hang on a sec'. Didja' really just ask me ta' think? Me?" That earned a boisterous laugh; either they were both extremely, extremely relaxed all of a sudden, or extremely, extremely forgetful.
"See, I ain't worried 'bout what people call me neither. Ya' have any idea how many names I got over tha' years?" He started counting on his fingers, still smiling. "Oaf, Giant, Hairy Buffoon... le's see, what else... Ape, Hairy Bastard, Hairy *ss..." He threw up his hand, giving up on counting. They'd be there all night. "N' that's just tha' first couple."
For a lot of people had given Horst names, misnomers and titles over time. Very few of them, in retrospect, were nice. Most of them had been and were cracks at his size, his roughness around the edges, his accent, his hairiness, and his demeanor in general. After all, to his enemies he'd been easy pickings; a giant Corellian with a habit of blowing stuff up with that sort of accent and personality?
If Horst had been a weaker man, he would have been down-right bullied.
But Horst wasn't a weaker man. He'd caught on quick; if bullies got an inch, they'd take a mile. Fortunately, the inches that usually sent them home had, in his experience, been the the 4 or so composing the width of his fists.
"N' lookit me; do I look like tha' kinda' guy that's bothered ta' ya'? Ya' don't need ta' be dead-alone just ta' be free r' whatever; all ya' gotta' do is what feels right anyway, no matter what some jack*ss's tellin' ya' ta' do instead." He nodded at her, popping open yet another can.
"N' like ya' said; ya've a'ready got that down."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 22, 2013 0:20:04 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 22, 2013 0:20:04 GMT -5
Ervisa rolled her eyes as Horst dismissed himself so easily.
Why couldn't he see that he was the one causing himself trouble? He did plenty of thinking and plenty of difficult tasks, and even drunk she knew that. How could he have found her on Taris if he was an idiot?
He severely underestimated himself, and overestimated her.
While Ervisa was street-smart and knew the inside and outside of a ship like the back of her hand, she wasn't as bright as her skin. On a scale, she was about a four. Definitely not the brightest crayon in the box in other words. However she could swagger like a starfighter pilot, talk shop with an aerospace mechanic, and blend in on the tarmac. For her, that was enough.
Maybe Horst was under the mistaken impression that just because she could talk prettier than him that she was smarter.
Of course that was bullcrap, but Horst believed some funny things. Especially when it came to certain Mirialan pilots. It was like beer goggles for the soul. The drunk lens that came out just kind of glossed over her bad parts, or flat out ignored them.
In that respect...
Horst was like no man she'd ever met before. He didn't care about her past, or all the bad things she'd done. He didn't mind that she'd been a Jedi, that she'd been in prison, or even that she'd been a junkie hooker. It was either proof he wasn't all there in the head or proof he was the kindest and most understanding man she'd ever met.
The problem was that she wasn't sure which of those was true.
Ervisa did something she hadn't expected by the time she finished yet another beer: She crawled up next to Horst and leaned on his bulky frame, resting her head on his chest and one arm around his gut. She patted it a few times before smiling and kicking her legs out before her.
"You can think Horsty-Worsty. Never doubt it. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Better than mine I bet. Because, I think if mine was screwed on right I wouldn't have made all these bad decisions."
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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
Moderator
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Jan 23, 2013 16:38:37 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jan 23, 2013 16:38:37 GMT -5
Horst blinked as Ervisa wrapped an arm around his lower torso, getting comfortable against his body. It was an unexpected move, to be sure; they might have been going out (or whatever this was called) for a while now, but during most of that time most of non-sexual affection involved had originated from him.
Feeling it from the other side of the equation was... unusual for him. Horst wasn't the sort of guy a person would look at and think "I want to snuggle up against his ribs". If past experience was anything to go by, Horst was usually the recipient of direct hostility, snide comments, friendly laughter, or a slap on the back.
But never hugs. Not like this one at least. It made him smile, bringing the arm closest to Ervisa to wrap underneath her, holding her shoulder, and his other to rest right above her hand on his gut.
It might have been rare, but it felt nice. Nicer than he ever could have imagined.
Sighing contently for a change, Horst closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Ervi, everybody makes a coupla' bad calls. We just gotta' learn ta' fix what we can, deal with what we can't, n' at tha' end a' tha' day keep goin'." He opened his eyes, looking down at her. A part of him just wanted to make sure that he wasn't dreaming so odd dream and that there was indeed a spectacular woman stretched out at his side.
The other part came to wonder what he'd done to prompt this. He hadn't said anything intelligent, had he? If anything it had been stupid, as usual; his slight buzz plus his classic lead-tongue made sure of that. And yet here she laid against his side as if he was something to shake a stick at.
She, meanwhile, was something to shake a million sticks at. Ervisa was amazing to Horst; beautiful, nose-to-the-dirt, grounded, warm, a good person, and to top it all off one hell of a soldier. Beyond that, she wasn't like other girls; she wasn't there because she thought his accent was "funny and cute", or because he was big and burly, or because he was just odd in general. Ervisa brought out the best in him, and he loved that about her.
Still, a nagging part of him wouldn't die (despite his stubborn efforts to the contrary). There was still that little voice, quiet and weak though it was, that she wasn't there because she wanted to be.
Did she like him? Or did she simply feel too much pity to leave?
But no, he wouldn't concern himself with that worry, or any worry for that matter. The feeling of her head against his chest was too good to let anything possibly bother him, and so therefore, he would simply be happy.
That was the way he did things.
"... I know ya' probably got this alot from shmucks like me... but ya've got real pretty eyes."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
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Jan 23, 2013 19:21:40 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 23, 2013 19:21:40 GMT -5
Ervisa blinked.
A compliment, and a nice one at that. From Horst Stellar of all people; the man who she doubted knew even the brand of her dress, or what kind of heels she wore. Yet he was actually going out of the way to compliment her eyes.
That was nice, genuinely nice. Granted she was a bit drunk now, but still. He didn't have to say anything so nice. It was just one of those gestures she found that she liked.
"Thanks," The Mirialan woman said as she snuggled a little deeper. "You have nice ones too. Very blue, like my eyes should be. Or else orange. We just don't have grey eyes."
Her own eye color was an abnormality, a little footnote in a journal somewhere that said it was rare. Maybe she should have felt special for it, but Ervisa didn't. She just sort of passively accepted it as part of who she was and left it at that.
She felt a little too talkative actually, and the Mirialan woman couldn't really sit still. Instead she slithered out from Horst's side and took another beer in hand, popping it open and taking a sip as she fished out another smoke from the dwindling pack.
The night was getting old now, and dawn was only a few hours away. Despite that, she didn't feel tired. She felt very awake, and had the desire to do something.
"Hey Horst, do you swim?" Ervisa asked casually.
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