Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Anotha Cantina




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Another world, another city, another cantina. Corellia, Coronet City and Anotha Cantina, specifically. Aptly named. Gave nothing away except for its identity deep in the sweeping city streets, where the ace pilots, large starships and shipyards were manifested beside its mag-lev subways and trains. There was a saying: No matter where you were in Coronet, inside or outside, you were bound to hear the clouds from low to high. Whatever that meant.

The Mandalorian definitely thought about it as she enjoyed her drink on a couch. Some guy had waxed this poetry sitting adjacent in a lounge area with settees and seats made for sitting. Only he was a drunken idiot to her sobriety. “Sounds like you’re just high on cloud nine, my guy.” Casany smiled wide while he shifted in his chair with a bit of a wicked glare.

“Lizzen cuz I’z only gonna zay thi—-HIC!-—onze…” His hiccup had clearly broken his train of thought. His gaze was off. Then he dropped. Good night, buddy. As the intoxicated patron’s head went back against the headrest his not-really-a-friend diverted her gaze away from that distraction. It wandered. She watched. Lost in thought about the dancers all around her.

The cantina functioned as much as a club that evening. Music pumped, dancers pulsated around the establishment’s floor made for dancing while spilling into the corners. There were bars with stools, tables with chairs, and her lounge in a quieter corner. No VIP access. Just come and get it if it’s open.

Only this was one Mandalorian woman whose armor might make someone think twice about sitting beside her. Not that she was interested in giving anybody a bruising that moment. Helmet in her lap, hands resting on it, cradling a cup of vodka with the bottle on the table, she propped her boots on the tabletop and watched. Listened. Vibrant. Sweat dripped from skin as dancers gave into the music amid violet lighting. No violence. Not yet. But a Mandalorian was always ready for it.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
Another Mandalorian entered the cantina. Small, slim and clad in black armour. The clan symbols were of clan Awaud, the nomad fleet of the Mandalorians.
Some details implied the Mando was not a human.
Armoured flexible Tendrils at the helmet and the shape of the boots suggested strongly the wearer was an alien.

Said alien looked around and of course spotted the other Mandalorian. Like many of the warrior clans, the stranger was straightforward and headed for Casany,the moment he spotted her.
On the way through the dance floor the black armoured guy or was it a gal, hard to tell in case of masked Mandalorians, was caught in the rhythm of the music and danced a bit. The armour was not a hindrance, it seemed. One of the scout armours of old, modified to be more of a body glove than a stiff bulwark.

At the lounge where Casany was drinking, the slim figure removed the helmet out of respect. To the surprise of the human, a cute white furred bunny face with large emotional eyes was beneath it. A Lepi as the lagomorph species of Coachelle was called.
Male Lepi were two metres tall, so this one with only around 1.4 metres had to be a female.

With a high-pitched voice the Mando-Bunny said: "Oya, vod! May I join you? Have not seen another vod for a while."
Straightforward, like a true Mandalorian.
 
Whether Casany observed the dancers or patrons not presently engaged in the revelry, content to eat and drink and speak, there were as many different aliens as there were outfits, as expected. She spotted some mercs, bounty hunters, not many, the odd blast vest here and there, but she was the only one clad neck to toe in Mandalorian iron. And her beskar’gam was red and gold. Oh. Spoke too soon.

Through the throngs, a smaller figure emerged, this one similarly tailored in armor. Another Mandalorian? And a bit of a dancer given the rhythm in their jig. They came closer, and now Casany wondered over clan and other colors. Red orange symbols, none that she recognized as she sipped her vodka, but at least she wasn’t the only Mandalorian in the cantina.

Helmet off. Now they could both see each other’s face. Human. Lepi. The latter would see separate symbols on those red gold pauldrons. On her left shoulder, Casany sported a black anvil signet. On her right shoulder was a golden sun sigil. The Lepi spoke. The Human listened. Two women. Just then someone stepped into their view.

Some di’kut who looked like a donut gazed at Cas, lips spread wide, but before he could sit down and bore her with some cheesy pickup line she wagged her finger at him with rigid lips. He promptly stepped away at that moment. A tilt of her head next indicated to her Mandalorian friend the seat beside her on the settee was open.

Oya.” She didn’t take her eyes off the other, looking between furry face and armor. “Casany of Clan Praxor.” Straightforward, like a True Mandalorian. “Drink?” If her vod didn’t already have a glass, well, the man had left his behind and that bottle of vodka would last a little longer into the night.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
The small alien nodded and indeed grabbed the glass while pushing the drunkard aside. It was kind of cute as the tiny pink nose was sniffing at the clear substance Casany was pouring into it. The large ears stood up straight. "Vod -Ka', the 'blade of the brothers'. I did not expect to see old Mandalorian booze on Corellia. Matter of fact, I rarely tasted it. My clan's access to special alcohol is limited. Besides, my dad frowned on addictive substances as he adopted me. But now I am not a tiny whelp, but a woman. I can handle it."

She drank the shot and slammed the glass on the table. "Glory to Clan Praxor, glory to Clan Awaud!" The fur of the lagomorph stands on end, and she shook the aftermath of the drink off.

"Adi'ka Awaud of Clan Awaud, foster child of alor Jurr Awaud." She nodded again as she introduced herself.

"Clan Praxor, eh? The famous smiths. Great beskar!" She tapped on her own armour and the pure ringing of Mandalorian iron could be heard.

Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
Casany was glad to see that her companion was already happy to be drinking. That meant she must have been of the age, and truly it was a mistake she didn't make when it came to the face of any given race. The Lepi's personality seemed giddy, cutesy, bubbly, but so did many young women. Especially in this place.

Vod
downed the shot of vod-ka, for indeed this drink was not merely vodka. Semantics being what they were, it took one to understand the Mandalorian language to detect the difference. Evidently the Lepi had a thing for it. Then again, there was yet the label on the bottle that read ‘Tracyn Vod-Ka’ AKA ‘fiery blade of brothers’. More or less.

“OYA!”

The bunny’s shot was followed by Cas knocking back her own. When in Mando, as the saying goes. On that note, Clan Praxor was known to Adi’ka; unfortunately Casany couldn’t claim the same about her fellow Mandalorian’s clan. That was nothing too unusual. Not every clan knew every clan. That’ll change soon.

“Forged In Fire.” The Praxor proudly quoted her clan’s words with a -ping!- on her pauldron of Mandalorian iron and its golden sun. “And what of your clan, Adi’ka Awaud? What’s your story?” Seemed a good opportunity for a little bit of history, and definitely a better alternative than talking to dipshits and chitdicks like the drunken idiot still passed out on the seat adjacent from their couch.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
The smaller Mandalorian shrugged. "Mercenaries, bounty hunters, nomads. Like in the very old days. I like that lifestyle very much. Very old clan, dating back to the Taung. An Awaud or two were even Mandalore. I am not good at old history. As you could guess I was not born into the clan.
Was a rustrat on the streets, addicted to stims, fast swoops and the pheromones of a Black Sun vigo. Very bad crowd. My dad took the bounty on my gang and me as a daughter. Liked my spirit, he said.
Was wing commander in the war against the sith and at the liberation of Mandalore ..."


She hesitated for a moment. The cheerful face was full of sorrow and the ears dropped. "There was this hunt that has not gone well. The acquisition let his ship fire on a city block full of civilians to escape. I barely survived. I needed ... some distance. Scout stuff, street level bounties, patrols in the void of the rim.
My dad was loyal to the clans and helped as the call for the liberation came. But my clan is fractured and spread thin in the rim and the wildspace. Our losses are not easily compensated. We are more the navy for hire in sectors who could not defend themselves and are ranked low priority for the big players. Better the only gobafish in a lake as one of many in the ocean, eh?"


Adi'ka was back to her cheerful, outgoing self. "So, what's up? How is Mandalore? What about the Sithspawn and the Jedispawn, what does the mindticks plan at the moment?"
A soft tapping by the foot of the Lepi was to be heard. The lagomorph seemed to be extremely skittish. Always in motion and alert. Hare-triggered so to speak.


Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
The music changed to slower beats as history gave way in speech. From mercenaries to black suns, commander and liberator, the look on the Lepi’s face and the tone in her tongue indicated that she ever remained a warrior. Then suddenly she wasn’t so bubbly. Casany didn’t even sip her drink as she listened, her companion having her complete attention.
Clan Awaud wasn’t the only clan that was spread thin, whether from war or for other reasons. The Praxors were no different. Both clans had evidently been in the thick of it on more than one occasion.

How was Mandalore? Cas hesitated at the question, unsure of how to answer, turning her cup atop her helmet in thought. She gazed upon it, through the transparent liquid, and the red gold iron of her second skull seemed distorted that moment; like the iron was wavering. No. A Mandalorian is forever unwavering. In flesh and blood, in bone and iron. In spirit.

“Afraid I can’t answer any of those questions. Not to any satisfaction.” She spoke just so, no sorrow in her tone. “Where your clan is spread thin, mine is simply…thinned.” She was barely a remnant of them. Whatever their former glory, Clan Praxor was more or less a story. “This is one Mandalorian woman who mostly keeps to herself, vod. My weapons and my armor is what I’ve got. If with both fists full. I’m still a warrior.”

She looked up from alcohol and helmet and met Adi’ka’s gaze again. “My moniker is Anvil. Armorer to my name, but these days I’m just a bounty hunter.” Another sip of vodka. Deeper.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
Adi'ka looked grim and sad, but determined nonetheless. With trembling hands she took her helmet and put it on.
The trembling imminently ceased, and she stood up, as tall and strong as 1.4 m could be.

"Anvil, you are not alone. Wherever there are Awaud, they will be your cousins. They will be foster your younglings, when you are not able, they will sing the songs of your clan, and they will defend your secrets of the forge. This I swear by my moniker Black Bunny of Death! This is the way!"


It should be comical, but it was not. It had more gravity to it than the galactic Maw.
Really strained, the small alien slumped back into the seat. Adi'ka took off the helmet again.
Softer she added:
"And what small help I myself could offer you should get it too."

Then she downed another drink. "And now let's party!"
 
Grim and sad. Maybe that was her companion. Casany wouldn’t hold those emotions against her. She looked determined. Cas? Indifferent. If a bit grim in her determination. But the Praxor couldn’t afford sadness anymore. Whatever happened to her, her hands never trembled. Her iron was her temple.

And she wasn’t alone.

She had the Black Bunny of Death beside her. At that moniker amid her armor and helm, Anvil could not help but chuckle, but not at her. The way Adi put her words made Cas wonder if they had already met in spirit. ‘Course we have. For we were forged by the fire of Mandalore.

“This is the way…” One way or the other anyway. “Party, eh?” Cas looked around the cantina as the music shifted. Downed her vodka. Wiped her lips. Eyes wide. Didn’t delay another moment. Got up, clipped her helmet to her ‘gam and extended her hand. “Come with me if you want to dance.” Her grin held some merit to it.

Toward the dance floor. Past the bar. Ignore the observers. Two Mandalorian women, a Lepi and a Human, clad in beskar’gam. The music was in a steady rhythm. A one-two, three-four, five-six. Thumping. Pumping. Amid a fast tap of drums. And, her partner right before her, Casany Praxor began to dance. It was a leisurely sway to begin with, a jig that looked a bit like this.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
Adi'ka followed up and started to dance too. A pattern of little hops that leads up to higher jumps. The little alien had strong jumping power, for sure. And she enjoyed it. Liked to lose herself at the moment.
She was doing the "Lepi Hop", but as an original Lepi. Obviously, she was a real party bunny who knew how to enjoy yourself.

The spotlight was on the dancing warrior women, of course. And Corellians would not be Corellians if they would not be attracted by dangerous women - even or perhaps because they are such an exotic pair.
A crowd was gathering and dancing too. The small lagomorph enjoyed this attention too.

Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
Up. Down. Jump. Bounce. Drum. Sound. Round butts in the town club with loud drugs. It wasn’t what one warrior came to the floor for but it was expected as she glimpsed it in the visages of some other dancers. Whatever. It isn’t even strictly dirty dancing. But the beats were dirty business.

Come. Now. Some. How. Rum? Wow! Drinks in hand. Onlookers swing about. Watch and dance at once. Hands and fists. Everybody turning, twisting, with limbs and hips. Corellians all around. The Mandalorian of Clan Praxor was just another woman in their midst at that moment, and she welcomed it. Same with the partner as she gazed her way.

Left. Right. Step. Slide. Neck. Thigh. Adi hopped like the top bunny she is as Casany swayed away. Picked up the pace a little bit. Felt like a little kid back in her mother’s ship when she first discovered what dancing is. But now this environment is like her mothership with aliens surrounding the Mandalorian. It is what it is.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Some do swing more like this. The music catered to it but Cas was content to move smoothly as she developed her jig. Move. Shift the hips. Fingers into loose fists. Dip the head. No need to sweat or get too crazy with it yet even with alcohol in her soul. Yet when the music changes and shifts then…maybe.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
The Lepi loved the crowd, it seems. Perhaps an instinct of her lagomorph ancestry. Safety in numbers.

Adi'ka danced closer toward Casany and shouted over the music: "When you are with a cyar'ika do you prefer to be alone or with vod? Or alone with a vod?"

Straightforward indeed. Few Mandalorians would make a complicated ritual about courtship. A couple of clear questions and warriors would know how a vod feels about romances. Seldom were hard feelings involved, regardless of the answers. The culture and the comradeship in the Clans did not allow such fancy. A spurned lover would be a dangerous squad mate in the fields.

"I mean, if I get romantic in such environments, I personally prefer someone I trust to be beside me. The more, the merrier."
Adi'ka was dancing again with great vigor. The questions may have been a precaution if her instincts would get a better of her. The emotional Lepi seems to be vulnerable in seductive situations, and her backstory hinted on bad decisions and bad experiences. She needed backup in the war of the cantinas.
Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
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The music switched yet again. Yet this wasn’t unusual even in the middle of the previous segment. It kept the dancers on their feet and toes, each beat slower or faster than the last. Naturally, Casany was not spared the need to change her speed and play to the new groove. After all, she had dared to leap. So she stood tall as lyrics mixed in with the music.

But it was her dancing partner’s speech that took her.
Her fellow Mandalorian or vod. More than companion.
These two women were sisters in arms. If free as birds.
Sisters of battle. Dancing hands free as Casany listened.

And, undoubtedly, laughed back. Little Lepi is definitely funny. Oh, certainly, Casany had a few ‘darlings’ in her days, but they tended to never stay. If a man tried to then he’d be given the boot by his truly. Sometimes in a rather rude way too. Don’t mess with Mandalorians, as they say. This is the way.

“Trust is indeed important!” Cas shouted back with her new dance to match the loud music. “Only the worthy can get to bed me! Mandalorian or whatever really! I’ve met a few!” She shrugged. Shoulders lifting to the beat that very moment. The irony.

“But I don’t really do romantic! As long as a man doesn’t kriff with me then it’s all about kriffing me! Ruusaanyc!” She laughed. "Now show me some more of your moves, Adi!" Her vod seemed honest enough for a lady at least. And that vodka was beginning to hit the sweet spot. The one that a bedlover could never hit no matter his vigor. This dance was a different beast entirely.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
"Oya, moves!" And Adi'ka jumped for real. For real real! High above the heads of the crowd. Only a lagomorph could jump so high and land without breaking her ankle joints.
Her face looked so happy, as she went all in. And the crowd goes wild.

However, not all liked what they saw. There were people in the crowd. Bad people. People who hold a grudge against one or both of the women. Or perhaps against all Mandalorians or their profession as bounty hunters.

Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
And, just like that, as Cas had asked, Adi showed her moves. Damn she’s fast! She had the joints. This establishment had the noise. “OYAAAA!!” Cas just had to clap as she gave her voice. Others did too. Soon a few became a group as the revelers around the two began to clap and stamp to the Lepi’s moves. And the cantina boomed.

Someone whistled. “WOOHOO!!” Adi was little in comparison but she wasn’t a little kid. “WOOTWOOT!!” Another roared as the Lepi Mandalorian shot up like a missile from the floor. Casany kept dancing, keeping to her groove. Bent elbows. Spread them arms. Tell those who bristle with hard hearts to just go to hell if they can’t enjoy the show and, if so, well here’s a pair of middle fingers. Beware the Mandalorians.

Casany winked their way. It was a pair of armored mercs as far as she could observe. Kark off. They didn’t. Just watched from one side. On that note, on her right were yet more guys. Civilian enough of patrons. Probably just held a grudge for women or Mandalorians. Or Mandalorian women.

Kriff them too. Cas closed her eyes and stopped her thoughts on them. They weren't worth it. This was her time. Her night. And her vod’s too. So come on, di’kuts, but they better bring their guns to this floor, because Casany had more than two.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
Casanys knack for armours let her appreciate the one of Adi'ka, even when both were distracted. The flash of tiny lights and the correspondent flashes on the helmet left on their table showed how packed with gadgets and independent surveillance equipment the armour of the Lepi was. A will on its own, watchful, even when the owner was not. Verpine and Lepi miniature technology, even two tiny droids as part of the loadout.
Like the legendary Coachelle Automata corporation, Adi'ka too seemed to be a gearhead. She lived the tenet of the Mandalorian way. Her armour was an extended part of her.

Even as she danced - and in the name of the Holy Hutch, she had more fun with it as most people had with intimacies - the small bounty hunter was ready to defend and retaliate in a split second if the scum would decide to move in.
But the di'kuts were no idiots. Too many bystanders who liked the performance. Furthermore, a shoot-out would have alerted CorSec, the famous Corellian police force. Not worth the trouble. Later perhaps ...

The glazed large eyes of the bunny Mandalorian showed how happy she was at the moment. How she had found a replacement for her spice abuse as a child. Dancing was not a bad addiction.


Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
Eyes closed. Give into the moment. Suddenly the music, with another sudden switch, was louder. More vibrant. Behind her eyelids her environment was brighter. Pump pump pump it up. Thump them drums. Those di’kuts? Must not be so tough ‘cause her eyes are still closed. Away they go? Maybe. Come back and play later, baby. Wasn’t drunk. Well, not enough. A bit tipsy. Vodka. Vod-Ka. C’mon vod. Yeah watch that Lepi GO.

She isn’t alone. Neither of them were. The dancers around them were like bouncing mountains. Everyone on this floor was a hardcore warrior when it came to the world of dancing without swinging fists or weapons. Limbs might kick a bit, but not in violence. Unless those guys decide it but that would be their worst mistake of the night. Their first was being di’kuts to begin with.

Bring it. Not the fight. The music. Give in. Harder. Louder. Stronger. Faster. This evening isn’t ready to end anytime soon so the Mandalorian keeps on the move. As synth strings strike like the bite of a Krayt dragon, flying without wings, a bead of sweat finally slides across Casany’s forehead. She picks up the pace amid the bass and the wave that pulsates like an earthquake beneath her feet and the flying Lepi.

Truthfully Casany didn’t know much about music except how to move to it when it suited. Her dancing, encouraged by the enticing beats, became faster, more daring. Steps step into a rhythm, it isn't so erratic, even as she spins. Steady if not slowly. No silly twirl as fingers snap and click amid a sound effect like the -snap-hiss!- of a lightsaber. Faster. Harder. When she opened her eyes she saw a million reasons why even a warrior like her could be driven to the addiction in this world of music.

Adi'ka Awaud Adi'ka Awaud
 
The joyful communion of the dance let the two warriors be one in the spiritual union of the Mando'a. A state of enlightenment Jedi would meditate to reach or Sith would hatefully rant about the latest tax rises to be one with their force.

True warriors since ancient times danced around their tribal fires and to the sound of the war drums. They were all one, from the ancestors whose stone tipped spears were now dust to the modern high-tech warriors with their starships and blasters. The dance united their spirits. The joy of life felt most deeply when every day could be a fighter's last.

Without stims even the energetic Lepi needed eventually a rest. Fatigued but deeply satisfied, she finally sunk into the seat at the lounge. She enjoyed the attention of the crowd, but needed now a little privacy and rest.
When Casany would join her, she would ask: "Do you have plans for the near future, vod? I was refuelling and resupplying my ship for an expedition. An associate of mine got a promising lead to an old battlefield thousands of years old. Bes'uliik are rumoured to be buried there. Perhaps some of them could be scavenged and repaired. At least there would be stainless Beskar to be looted. Interested, armorer?"
While she was talking, her eyes checked up the physic of two human males who clearly showed interest for the exotic lagomorph girl and smiled. Like Corellians Lepi were often very open-minded in such things.

Casany Praxor Casany Praxor
 
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