Private Blazing Fire and Cold Metal

[Arris Windrun]

Varin Mortifer
​

Ah, so he saw more than just a haircut, then? Her brow rose a second time, but he was quick to offer an alternative question. Somehow, asking about her guns was more surprising than asking about her new look.

Arris laughed. It was short, but more honest than her dry laughter from earlier. She drew one of her pistols from the left-side holster, the word 'Down' etched into the beautiful songsteel frame. The cylinder popped open, and she held one of the slugs between finger and thumb.

"Standard .48 slug," she answered, then offered him the full-metal projectile and drew a shell from her gunbelt. It was slightly smaller than the slug.

"Variable cylinder - uses a containment field to hold anything smaller in place." She demonstrated by inserting the shell, then popping it back out. There was a quiet, energetic hiss when the field activated, then deactivated.

Arris plucked the slug back, returning it to her weapon - she offered the gun to him, if he would like to hold it.

"As for my look? I'll tell you what I told Mercy. My body is a shell; I can change it whenever I want."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

Varin gently took the slug from her fingers, studying the make of the projectile and its casing as she spoke.

His eyes fell to the pistol as she demonstrated its modifications and adaptability. Quite handy in a pinch. Though he seemed slow to follow he took in every bit of information on the firearm, then she offered it to him.

He took it in his hand, the handle clearly a bit too small for him, but the weight of the entire frame was hefty, he slowly bounced it in his hand, testing the balance.

“Quite heavy for a .48 slug. Besides controlling recoil is there another purpose to the weight?”

He could instantly tell there was more to it, much more. Possible that an average being could not even fire the weapon.

He kept his trigger finger straight following the frame towards the barrel, avoiding the trigger as he pulled the hammer back. The sights on the wall.

When she answered his question on her appearance he scoffed lightly, a scoff that gave off the feeling of ‘of course’.

Varin seemed to hold the firearm with some form of familiarity, maybe not with this exact model, but with firearms in general.

“At least people ask you about your appearance.”

A soft smirk on his face.

As he inspected the frame he noticed a small switch.

“Hmm.”

With a quick flip of his thumb he heard s small hum. Then without thinking-

BANG!!!

The pistol recoiled in his hand, smoke trailing out of the barrel, the push back strong enough for him to have to take a step back to accommodate. And in the wall nearby was a .48 caliber slug hole, still smoking.

“...I see…”

He was lucky that he was still maintaining force body, something he has just been actively doing in all of his waking hours, hoping to achieve having it without thought.

Arris Windrun​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Varin Mortifer
​

"I like the feel," she answered.

It was true. Very true. Though the weight improved the weapon's viability as a blunt melee instrument, which was particularly useful when facing a lightsaber.

His remark about appearances, or the lack of commentary on his, caught her off-guard... Were people supposed to notice something? Arris Windrun was a freak herself and friends with freaks of a kind - like Mercy. So, she might have had a bit of blindness when it came to other people's appearances.

She was about to ask, but then in the corner of her eye she saw his thumb, "No!" But it was too late.

The pulse accelerator whirred, firing a supersonic slug sheathed in energy. The projectile punched through the wall and into another room of the Palace beyond.

She quickly snatched the smoking gun away from him, like he was a child who shouldn't have had it. "Sheesh, man! What the fuck?!" Her Talusian accent peaked there.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

She snatched the gun from his hand with quick efficiency and Varin stood there, his hand still in the same position as if still holding the pistol. Finally his fingers slowly flexed, easing the new sensation from the pull of the trigger and the energy that left the frame.

Her accent took him by surprise when she scolded him and his brow arched.

“Do you always keep a hair trigger on that?”

A small tilt of his head again as if trying to understand why she seemed to react in such a way. Truthfully he was not expecting the trigger to be so sensitive, though he could see the tactical appeal of it. A quicker trigger, a faster response time. And with the talents and augments of someone like Arris, extremely effective.

“Apologies about the wall. I’m sure we can fill that back in.”

His gaze found the hole, and on the other side of that room another hole that continued. He sneered a bit to himself.

“That…certainly packs a punch.”

He slowly rolled his shoulder, the socket popping echoed between them as the muscles eased back into their relaxed state.

It was odd, he had misfired and yet, he did not sound concerned with it at all. No nervous tick, no pitch change in his voice. It didn’t even seem like the loud noise affected his ears.

Arris Windrun​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Varin Mortifer
​

"I'm a cyborg, man!" She groaned. "I don't get twitchy. Dontcha know some trigger discipline, man?! Blaming it on the trigger is.... Amateurish."

She twirled the weapon and slid it back into the holster.

"Don't care about the wall," she didn't even look at it. "And yeah, it does pack one - that's kinda the whole point... You flicked the accelerator with your big, clumsy thumb."

It didn't surprise her in the slightest to hear he had partially dislocated a shoulder.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

Varin's brow arched after she finished groaning.

“Do you usually complain when your gun misfires?”

A small smirk curved his lips, a form of jest as he watched her explain the accelerator and his "accidental" flip of the switch.

After another flex of his shoulder, the socket knocked back into place fully, allowing him to flex his fingers.

“Ever been hunting? Not bounty hunting, but survival.”

The question slipped from him as he relaxed his arm once more.

“There are some beasts that may shake off some of those accelerated bullets on my planet. Maybe give you a fun run for your money.”

Of course there was only one creature on his planet he could think of that could really take the brunt of that type of firepower and slithered away barely phased.

A serpent of molten rock and stone, said to be the children of the core within the planet itself.

“If you would be interested in that at some point, get the…heart pumping for you.”

He paused, thinking if he truly did choose his words carefully enough, the conversation had already taken some wide twists and turns, what's another surprise that could be thrown in besides a hunting invitation to some titanic beast.

Arris Windrun​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Varin Mortifer
​

She found his use of the word 'misfire' irksome. His smug smirk didn't help sell the tone of his question, either.

Hunting? He was quick to specify beast over person, then rambled on about the monsters on his homeworld, and how her guns would have little effect. When he suggested that it might be the sort of thrill she thought, Arris narrowed her eyes skeptically.

"I don't hunt," she said flat outright. "Killing is not a hobby to me." It had to be a job or an act of necessary survival.

Though Varin may've been well-meaning, he read her all wrong if he pegged her as the type to slay beasts for glory.

"If want to know - my idea of a good time usually involves drinks and an airspeeder."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

“Hunting is not a hobby. Not to me at least. It is survival.”

When she mentioned her fancy of drinks and airspeeders a small laugh left him.

“At least we can add drinking to the list of something we have in common. My experience with racing something fast was a Sithspawn race on Korriban.”

He thought back to the drake-like beast he rode, silently wondering to himself how the big guy was doing, or if he was still alive.

“Though I will say, most Sith tend to have killing down as a hobby, yet you do not.”

He quirked a brow.

“I won't ask why, it's not really my business. But it is a bit odd, especially in leadership. Most I have seen tend to enjoy killing, but you…”

He paused for a moment before he continued.

“You tend to do it if you need to.”

His gaze took on a more serious tone as if he were speaking in a way to show he was not mocking her.

“That shows much more restraint than most people I see in leadership.”

He looked back at the throne she sat upon.

“You may not like having a throne, you may enjoy it, I don't necessarily know, but that restraint births great leaders.”

His hand slowly came up to the back of his head, his thumb and forefinger gently massaging the muscle behind his neck, more so in a way to cope from being awkward during the interaction.

Arris Windrun​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Varin Mortifer
​

"Hunting to eat? Sure. Hunting for glory? No, that's not survival."

She snorted at the idea that drinking was something they had in common. She hadn't any clue what to make of "sithspawn racing on Korriban," however.

But that wasn't the topic - her apparent restraint and lack of bloodlust in his eyes was.

She folded her arms. "I've done a lot of killing, Varin. But in those moments, I'm never more than a gun. A good fight is one thing," she snickered dryly, recalling her time on Ruusan... traumatizing but exhilarating at the same time. "But if I'm there to kill? I will make it quick."

When his eyes wandered to her throne, she followed with a glance over her shoulder, then looked back at him.

Arris frowned, just a little. "Yeah... I appreciate your vote of confidence, but I'm not a leader. I..." She hesitated.

'I think I'm nothing.'

She didn't say it.

With a sigh, she walked towards the doors. "I've got work to do after all. Help yourself to the steam room - if you can find it. I'm sure it'll do wonders for your muscles."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

“Many times I have seen you pelt someone with a beanbag instead of a bullet. You could have killed Kirie and made her into an example through a means to an end. But you didn't. That's the restraint I see.”

He looked down at his black blade, the amount of people he had carved and cut up, he did not care to count.

“You and I both see ourselves as mere weapons when on orders.”

When she sighed his brow lifted, a curious look in his eye before she started to walk away, a quick change of subject.

Perhaps he would take up the offer of the steam room, but he could tell a war within someone when he saw it. However he did not pry about it. Now was not the time.

“Very well.”

Two simple words he offered her as she walked to the doors before he spoke quietly to himself.

“Whether you see it or not, acolytes look to you for guidance when times get tough. Unfortunately Arris, that makes you a leader in their eyes.”

Sometimes you can't pick your roles.

Arris Windrun​