Private Beskaryc

[Haastal Haran]

BESKARYC​

Tags: Redd | Damsy Callat ​

Sinner's Well
Ryloth
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After rescuing Damsy Callat from the hellish swamps that had nearly claimed Haastal's life, the Mandalorian decided to keep his niece close to him. Rather, his brother's words rang through his ears. Keep a watchful eye over my girl. There was only one person who Haastal listened to apart from his mate, Redd and that was Isley. So if he said to watch over his girl, he would. He just may not do it the way the man originally envisioned.

"Fuckin' lock..." The Mandalorian grumbled as he knelt, bent down in front of Darth Metus bedroom. Sure, Haastal could have just asked for the code to his brother's room so he could access his forge, but... an audible click erupted from the door which made Haastal laugh out. "Piece of chit locks." The Mandalorian stood up, kicking his armored boot against his brother's door, watching it swing open. He turned back to the two women in his company, Damsy Callat and Redd and gave each of them a knowing smirk. "Told you I could get us in." He said, before smirking and turning into Isley's room. Immediately the man walked to a side door leading down a stairwell. He shouldered the heavy bag of Beskar that was on his bag. All three of them had brought a few of the bars of pure Beskar that Haastal and Redd had acquired late the last year.

As they continued down the steps of the stairwell, Haastal called out to his mate, Redd, continuing a conversation from before he began picking his brother's lock. "Beskaryc is somethin' like bein' armored or defended." It had been close to a year since Haastal and Redd had gotten together and in that time Haastal had been teaching his mate to speak the tongue of the Mandalorians. With Damsy around it made things a bit easier because there was another person for Redd to practice with. Still, some words eluded her just because of the lack of use they received, less popular words like Beskaryc. At the end of the stairwell the heat began to increase and Haastal exhaled into a whistle. "Damn I hate it in here." He muttered, before walking over to a nearby shelf in the corner. The man had been wearing nothing but a black shirt and jeans, however he quickly pulled the black shirt off and tossed it onto the ground below him.

"Ok. I'm not the best at this shit, but Isley showed me enough." There were a number of heavy wooden blocks beneath the forge, which Haastal grabbed, tossing them into the fires without hesitation. "Ok, lets start with Damsy. You need some new armor right?" He asked her. He made a gesture towards her body. "You're gonna have to drop your clothes so Redd can get your measurements. This shit has to be precise or else your armor will be all fucked up. Also, I can form the armor, but it will have to get fitted in the armory, I don't know how." He told her. While Damsy took her clothes off, Haastal drug his bag of Beskar over to the forge. He took out a number of the Iron bricks, tossing them onto the smelting plate with a haphazard disregard. Once a healthy pile of them was stacked up, Haastal walked over to the other side of the furnace, turning on the fans and machines to help cure the metals of any improprieties. Already, just from standing so close to the fire he was drenched in sweat. He walked over to his shirt, pulling it from the ground and wiping his face with it.

"I hate this shit." He muttered, before turning to Redd. "Get her sizes, babe. Height, heel to crown. Bust, waist, and thighs, all of it." He grabbed a tape measure off the shelf behind him and tossed it to his mate.
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[Damsy Callat]

B E S K A R Y C​

Tags: Haastal Haran Redd​

[Not] Wearing: - x -​

Damsy could already feel the dehydration setting in.​

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"Not to, uh, belabor a traumatic memory for us both, unc," she began, but did anyway, "but I can shift, like you." She gestured at Redd, hint of a smile at the corner of her own lips. "I'll need to work hydrophilic material into my suit too. Micro-tubing, flex plates, temp control mesh, stuff like that." As she had found once upon a time on Mustafar, mechanical environment regulator systems did more harm than good when it came to cooling her off: it sucked water out of her skin. Thus, a goldilocks balance of reasonable temperature and moisture retention had come to be a holy grail she had not yet found, or else the Confederates, Dauntless nor Knights Obsidian, had never perfected. Maybe the House Verd Mandalorians could. She hadn't thought to ask before, having long since braced herself for the disappointment that would be an Akaa'kalyr without beskar'gam. "I know, I know - don't tell me - that's an armory thing, but it shouldn't be a problem in any case...right?"​

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She glanced from Haastal over to Redd with pleading eyes and a voice to match. "Please make it quick." She was about to add an explanation as to why haste was necessary, but was didn't for assumption that the lupine knew enough of the siren's plight. If she didn't, enough could be gleaned from one look at the inside of Damsy's biologically-designed clothes. She stripped off her simple blouse and slacks as instructed, and set both gently down on the floor beside her, careful not to fold them needlessly. Upon inspection, even from a standing vantage at some distance, a small but unusual boning pattern could be traced into the fold of fabric until it disappeared from view - the micro-tubing she spoke of. The ribs were wholly disjointed, not like the internal of a noble's corset would be. Freedom of movement was a plain necessity for Damsy, and probably so too for the well-born women with better manner, but more than just the sithspawn's torso was being caged. Joints could not remain as stiff as the chest of a daughter meant to sit still and look pretty could. ​

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Damsy had to slit throats, yes, but there was of course still room to look pretty.​

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[Redd]

BESKARYC
Tags: Haastal Haran | Damsy Callat

Golden eyes quietly watched her mate as he cursed at the door while trying to pick it so then they could access the forge. Personally the red wolf felt as if there was an easier way in and just as she was about to voice as much, the man sprung open the door and turned back to them with a smirk upon his lips. Slowly she shook her head with a soft chuckle, only to adjust her grip upon the bag that held a few heavy ingots of Beskar and followed him down the stairs. All the while, she continued to listen to the man’s words as he continued on with the lesson. ”Beskaryc,” Redd murmured under her breath and her gaze followed her mate’s movements the moment that they arrived down in the bowels of the forge. Although, she first deposited the heavy sack of ingots upon the floor, so then the pregnant wolf didn’t strain herself. The last thing she needed was to be scolded by doctors for not taking better care of herself; not that she actually cared about their opinion.

Her gaze watched the man pull his shirt off and she spied the many scars that littered his torso. Mainly, the two bites marks that she had given him, along with his lieutenant brand. After a moment of pause, the woman licked her lips and turned away for a moment, only to focus upon the bag at her feet. ”Being armoured or defended. Got it.” Redd acknowledged with a nod of her head and listened as he spoke with Damsy. A woman that she didn’t exactly know per se, just that she turned into a mermaid, which was a human form but with a tail? It was interesting and oddly enough, made her somewhat hungry as her mind travelled to the thought of fish. Even a wolf could enjoy the flesh of fish and had done so when she had lived within her old pack. However, what drew her line of thinking away from food, was when Damsy mentioned a traumatic memory and that she could also shift.

Golden eyes focused upon the pointed finger and she smiled while resisting the urge to nip at the finger. ”The first shift is always the best shift of all,” The woman said with a wink and turned slightly so then she could catch the measuring tape that her mate had tossed her. Even though the shift was relatively quick for Lupos, the first one would always hurt, so the wolf had an idea about the shifter problems that the other might encounter. Although, Redd didn’t really say much or ask about it, for everyone had their own experiences. Some liked to share and others preferred to keep their experiences to themselves. So, the Lupo fiddled around with the tape measure for a moment and began to measure Damsy. Occasionally, her pale hands would nudge at the other woman and demonstrate exactly what she needed the other to do in order to get the required measurements. However, her mind was elsewhere.

Damsy had called her mate, Unc and she pondered upon the meaning, if only for a brief moment. Both of her parents had been only childs in their families, especially with the increase of infertility and childless parents in the pack. So, the word had been extremely strange, at least to Redd. ”What does ‘Unc’ mean?” The red haired woman questioned as she demonstrated to the other to stand with her legs apart so then she could take the ‘thigh’ measurement. ”Is it an uncommon Mandalorian word as well?” She asked with a frown upon her brow as she puzzled over the simple word and quickly finished off the measurements. ”Ok, you can get dressed now.” Redd said and conveyed the measurements back to Haastal with perfect memory recall.​

 

[Haastal Haran]

BESKARYC​

Tags: Damsy Callat | Redd ​

Once they were inside, Haastal's eyes caught Redd's gaze. He smirked at her before turning back to the task at hand. The brand on his body had long since healed, even though for almost a year it had been raw and painful to the touch. As the skin finally healed he was allowed some reprieve. With bacta he could have healed much faster, yet it often forced the scarring to fade away, that wasn't what he wanted. The symbol was glaring and proud as it should be. Haastal looked to his mate and gestured to the marks while looking to Damsy and Redd. "Thinkin' of gettin' a brand for you and the kids, when we have 'em." He said.

When Damsy requested the measurements be done fast, Haastal nodded before sitting down on the edge of the furnace. It was extremely hot, but the special material the stone was made of was surprisingly cool. When Redd asked what the word 'Unc' meant, Haastal looked to her without a second thought. "Uncle." He said. "I'm her father's brother, so I'm her Uncle, her Ba'vodu." He completed in Mandalorian.

He continued on. "When our kids are here, they'll be her cousins, her bui'stad."

When Redd had finished getting the measurements, Haas leaned over to a nearby pad, taking it from the shelf and jotting down the numbers as she conveyed them. With the measurements, Haastal walked over to a machine on the other side of the room. It would craft the necessary mold easily enough, with simply in-putting the measurements. As Haastal input the measurements, he spoke out to Redd. "Means you're Damsy's Aunt." He said matter of factly before saying. "Also Ba'vodu or Ba'vodua."

While Damsy got dressed the machine began to rumble and he turned to lean his back against it. "Speaking of Isley. He told me there may be some Mandalorian impersonators runnin' around the Outer Rim, once we refit we're gonna see if we can track them down. From the stories they got Mandalorian armor so maybe they got a source of Beskar we can get our hands on. The clan's growin' and we ain't got nearly enough Beskar." He said.
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[Damsy Callat]

B E S K A R Y C​

Tags: Haastal Haran Redd​

Wearing: - x -​

Another smile for the lupo.​

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"The first shift is always the best shift of all."​

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"Once upon a time," she agreed. Yes, it was, but that as well as any enjoyment she pulled from the ocean tides was now long past, leaving nothing but trauma in its wake. Her body, even its humanoid form, no longer felt like hers because in large part in wasn't. She now shared it with Syreni, an alter ego, and the impression left by Bor Kordol, its master.​

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Then Damsy nodded at Redd at Hasstal's mention of her being her aunt, and once dressed. She simply hadn't said so herself because she hadn't wanted to presume the seriousness of the duo's relationship, though since they were expecting a child Damsy could have pretty safely guessed.​

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She shifted her weight as mention was made of her father. It wasn't a secret among House Verd at the very least and the whole damn Confederacy at most that there was not love lost between the Vicelord's alchemation and himself...but quite the opposite the other way around. From this day forward, however, she would attempt to put her rage to rest. ​

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Syreni clawed at the confines of Damsy's head, sending pangs through her temples at which she winced ever so slightly. Sea mouse! the siren growled in her native Kamionian. You'll never be Sith now! Never carry his legacy to make it her own. Maybe not, but perhaps just as well. She didn't want to forgive Isley per se - swimming with the pilot fish of forgiveness made her hungry, but keeping their company was the only reliable way of subjugating Syreni she had found since her duel outside of the Naboo Archives.​

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She brought her arms up to cross over her chest. "Sounds like a Warmaster duty," she replied, nodding again. "I'm in." Even if she wasn't Akaa'kalyr, she would have been glad for the mission. A mundane distraction from the Force. "Just, uh, no water, huh?" She looked to her uncle, then to her aunt. "Better I don't shift for the foreseeable future."​

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