First Reply Chihiro

[Ezra Dune]

Chihiro
Location: Some hole in the wall || Carlac

X X X
​

Neon lights flashed false messages. ||The best place to eat in all land!!|| A bold statement for an establishment that looked as though it had been punched into a wall by an unsteady hand. There wasn’t much to look at to state its praises, clearly full of themselves, yearning for the wandering gut to step forward and play a game of Russian roulette with their stomachs.

“Perfect.”

He didn’t make any other consideration, scoffing at the message and its perfect undertones as he stepped in. Ezra flashed a smile at the server who appeared to be etched out petrified wood, stone-like and unmoving. This was the type of place that sung stories in the moonlight, took notes in their names, and never once wrote them into permanence.

This was the type of place he adored most of all.

“The house special s’fine...thank you.” His voice rolled smoothly within the vacant space, freeing tiny particles of dust from an old statue that was placed near the register. He didn’t bother making much eye contact through the hazy lenses on his face. Simply put, he was tired, a point in which he could almost taste the bitterness of exhaustion. Even in the lavish expanse of the city above, he enjoyed the tiny hidy holes people wouldn’t even bother to raise a brow at. Invisibility was his strong suit, he wore it like armor.

A drink was poured, ushered across the dingy counter to rest beside a tattooed arm. On the other side, a cybernetic limb tapped metallic fingers to the beat of its own drummer. He turned over, he wasn’t expecting anyone let alone would have even bothered to think that anyone would find a place as repulsive as this a place of refuge. Intrigue forced his head to cock to the side, his glasses dipped down exposing a glint in his eyes, “So what’s your story?” curiosity was his mistress.

 

[Shora the Shameless]

Shora the Shamless stewed over his empty glass in deep contemplation. The drink had been consumed a while ago, but the bartender wouldn’t pester him to buy another or move on if he pretended to mull the glass over in his hands. All he wanted was a place to sit alone and think, though recently it seemed that was all that he was ever doing. Another job left him on another planet in another bar on another night far away from home. But where was home anymore? On Zenoma Sekot? On Pzob? He was wanted in neither of those places. Even the gods did not want him. Is this their plan for the warrior without shame? What even is this plan? What is his purpose?

These are the thoughts which kept him company. Often enough to call them friends. Yet the bare-chested berserker was not alone. Not entirely. Nagini was always inanimate and coiled around his bicep, a constant reminder of who he is. He is Shora the Shameless. He just didn’t really know what that meant.

Shora snapped back to reality at the request of the man sitting next to him. He didn’t realize that Ezra Dune was talking to him initially. Usually, the locals would give a creature of his stature and exotic appearance a wide birth, so this conversation was a bit unexpected. Perhaps he was looking for some muscle. Perhaps he was just a bit drunk. Regardless, he would entertain the conversation. It was a pleasant break from his not so pleasant thoughts, and it would be a good chance to practice his Galactic Basic.

“I am Shora. I work mercenary jobs. You?”

 

[Ezra Dune]

Chihiro
Location: Some hole in the wall || Carlac
A friendly conversation with Shora the Shameless
X X X
​

He would be neither of those things.

Instead, he was the type to true up a conversation when the opportunity had presented itself. This seemed like one of those times, even if in the back of his mind he chased after solitude.

A hand lifted, two-fingers darted forward and without much time in between, two mild-colored drinks were delivered. Ezra didn’t turn at first, he just scoot the drink over, eyes fishing for lights that shimmered on the inside of his glass.

“Mhmm - Shora, Ezra Dune, weapons specialist.” Finally, the epicanthix turned, not even a grimace or a change in demeanor was delivered toward Shora. Ezra studied him for a moment, his shielded body language suggested that either being left alone or gawked at may have been familiar. Ezra didn’t even flinch. Instead, the engineer pulled a metal case from his pocket, nestled within was a row of specially formulated cigars. And just like the drink, he’d offer one up before taking and lighting one of his own.

“You look a bit underdressed to be doing mercenary work on this dreadfully cold planet, you know.” He pointed at his own chest, dipping his head down to acknowledge the large coat beside him. “So what mercenary jobs bring you to this frozen wasteland? Perhaps your time here has been a bit more fruitful than mine.”

 

[Shora the Shameless]

When the bartender brought around drinks at the behest of the large stranger, Shora grew a bit suspicious. Surely this man wanted something from him. Random acts of kindness in his experience were usually not random or acts of kindness. That is not to say he was a stranger of receiving charity, but hopefully those days were behind him. At least he waited for his new friend to drink before he did. The lightly colored drink was sweet and fruity upon touching his lips. Shora downed the glass in one fell swoop. He needed the drink, but not the cigar.

“I cannot hide my scars, Ezra Dune ,” Shora responded simply. The elements could not bother one with skin so thick and tough. “A local village hired me to scare off a mining company. I am happy for work but fear I am wasting my time and their credits.”

Shora turned to face the large man at his side, eager to change the topic. “Weapon Specialist? How you fare here?"

 

[Ezra Dune]

Chihiro
Location: Some hole in the wall || Carlac
A friendly conversation with Shora the Shameless
X X X
​

“Weapon Specialist? How you fare here?"

"Right now we're in the beginning stages of things, a lot of planning, a lot of negotiations...all of the boring crap no one ever tells you about." He took a small drag of his cigar, finding an empty glass to ash it into even as the tender served him a fiery glare. Ezra just shrugged it off, taking notes of other points in their conversation. "Don't we all have our share of stories etched in our skin? I appreciate the conversation, by the way, I'm sure you're probably wondering why speak if there's no request?"

He turned his head away, blowing a circular cloud to twirl with the dust particles in front of him., "There is more to us than just the work we do or the company we keep. I'm working on taking a step back to stop myself from drowning in those details...even though it's of my own design."
The epicanthix tailed his words with a swig of his drink, emptying out the glass and ordering up another, just for himself this time. "I won't bore you any further with cryptic banter, tell me your weapon of choice...I'm always curious to hear what people trust the most."

 

[Shora the Shameless]

The musings of the giant stranger sitting next to him had given Shora a bit to contemplate. Personal sacrifice is everything to the gods and bodily scars are the greatest example of such sacrifice. Yet no matter how much slaughter he commits in the name of the Yun’o, Shora has nothing on his body to show for it. The scars he received prior to his exile are the only ones he may ever earn. They are precious to him. His body stopped telling his story long ago.

And yet it sounds like Ezra Dune was in a similar position to Shora, treading carefully as to not drown in one’s work. Perhaps they had much more in common than he had realized. But Ezra has the luxury to separate himself from his work in a way that Shora could not. He needed redemption. He needed to go home.

However, the talk of weapons quickly brought Shora out of his somber contemplation. His face visibly brightened at the request of Ezra, and with this newly established connection, Shora was eager to show him. The amphistaff coiled around his bicep sprang to life and began to writhe around.

“This is Nagini,” he cooed lovingly as the large serpent slithered through his hands to Ezra. Her oily black scales reflected the soft glow of the bar lights and two intelligent eyes of ruby studied the Epicanthix. “There is nothing stronger than the bond between a Yuuzhan Vong and his amphistaff. She is a part of me and I, her.” Nagini suddenly elongated into a massive staff, her scales aligning to create a razor thin edge at the behest of Shora. He held out the staff in both hands to Ezra so that he may study her.