Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Crash Into Me

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It took no less than five days for Perla’s skin to turn a golden brown color under the warm sun of Dathomir, which after two years on Bastion, felt much like an enveloping blanket made from the hide of jungle cats who hunted near the Misty Falls.

Since her return, the Dathomirian native had lived quite nomadically, still afraid to confront Mother Zivka about her exile from the Great Canyon Clan. Just how much of a taste for forgiveness the now elderly clan leader would remain to be seen. She knew of fellow witches who’d been banished their entire lives and others who were welcome back into the arms of the sisters after one day. She supposed it depended upon the transgression and yes, Perla’s had been unforgivable, but yet a tragic accident at the time. But like the fellow witch she’d slain, she was just a girl on that fateful night. If she was allowed to return she’d have to make amends to Manju...

Stop thinking about it and concentrate, Perla. You need to bring home something to eat tonight.

Xana, her bull rancor stomped ungracefully across the field, scaring a flock of baz nitches. Her eye caught something else sneaking through the tall, reedy grass. As it raised up on two legs, she realized it was a juvenile rhoa kwi, and while their meat was a little tough, it would have to do.

Suddenly Perla heard the roar of a vessel as it broke through the atmosphere, leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind it. Xana bellowed and her first instinct was to turn around and go the other way, but curiosity got the better of her and she kicked her heels into the rancor’s flanks as the ship crashed just over a small ridge to the south.

[member="Daran Carn"]
 
Daran was in a lot of pain as he wakes up, wincing he reaches down to his waist where felt the sharp pain. He'd fallen down against the gate... which seemed to have come off it's hinges and he was now resting on the gate... which was resting on the wall opposite to the cell he was on. The ship itself felt like it was about to wobble over. Having a good sense of direction... he realized the ship had landed on the ground... wherever this was nose first. So taking care not to slip he does gingerly make his way towards where the door was.

He sighs, as he manages to get to a ladder that was leading above deck as he climbs up... he freezes. Foot steps. He tenses up. He knew he wasn't the only one on board this ship.... he could tell that it wasn't one of the men. Perhaps.... some other captive? He wasn't sure, yet he didn't want to test his theory out just yet. Waiting till the foot steps fade as he remains on the ladder he then starts to ascend, opening up the hatch that the girl most likely overlooked he then steps out. Closing it behind him as he makes his way down the somewhat familiar corridor. Though he only had been on this ship.. this once he'd made a mental note of the layout of the ship so managing to find a way out wasn't going to be hard.

As he finally reaches the opening that the girl had most likely made... he realized that she most likely was simply a local in... wherever this was that he had landed in. He breathed a sigh of relief as he descends the ladder only a few feet from the ground before freezing... feeling what felt like hot breath washing over his back. Glancing back slowly he did his best not to look back at the source of this breathing as he glances up. Perhaps he could... scale it back up in time? Or would he get killed? No he couldn't... he then slowly but hesitantly starts to descent, the source of the breathing didn't seem to attack.. but all the same the moisture from the warm breath on the steel ladder got the better of him as he ended up slipping, not that his grip was firm anyway as he was afraid for his life to begin with. Ending up falling off the ladder onto the ground.

Starved and almost delirious from exhaustion, one sight at the monster and Daran found himself passing out once more.
 
“Ha! Sometimes Xana has that effect on people,” Perla said aloud as she watched the human male drop to the ground with either fear or exhaustion. She grabbed the horn of her leather saddle and swung down off of the bull rancor, crouching on bent knees as she touched the ground for balance. From a distance the Dathomir witch assumed there would be no survivors from the crash, but here was one and perhaps there were more.

A quick search of the wreckage and the rag-doll bodies found told Perla that unfortunately the man who’d fallen was the only one alive now. First she needed to find out if the human was armed, and then there’d be time for looting if he planned to remain unconscious.

When she returned to where he lay, she realized Xana was hovering over his torso, sniffing with her large nostrils. “Shoo!” she shouted. “He’s not a meal. Not just yet.” Just to be on the safe side, she ended up tying Xana to the wreckage, lightly enough to let the intelligent beast know it was not for punishment but as a small warning.

Perla then crouched over the human, placing her palm upon his chest to feel for a heartbeat. She then rifled through the pocket of his jumpsuit for weapons, but realized he might have been a prisoner based on the utilitarian way in which he was dressed.

[member="Daran Carn"]
 
Daran was playing dead at this point. Having been lying there for a good half hour with the beast staring him down.... he was a nervous wreck. Unsure just what to do. He'd have made a run for it... if there was a chance to get out of it's sight... but from a peek he had made up his mind that no escape was possible so he simply lay there in hopes that the beast might end up leaving.

However, today did not seem to be Daran's lucky day... as the best stood there beside him. Why wasn't he dead? He wasn't too sure about that but he did have a feeling his luck might not last too long as the beast seemed rather impatient. He senses another presence as he hears a soft thud. Perhaps... the person from inside had come off? From the way the beast's attention shifted to her... he could only assume that she was it's master.

Hearing her voice he becomes deathly still, a meal... him? He feels her hands running over him. Not an unpleasant feeling, not at all.. in fact he might have liked it if the circumstances were different. Feeling her hand resting on his chest he then moves his hand to grip hers. Thinking she was going to kill him as he stumbles back before getting up. "I... I don't want any trouble" he says finally as he looks at her, then the beast. Feeling a bit light headed. Rather weary from the journey, mixed in with the lack of food and water he was in no state to try and fight

Eyeing the girl she didn't seem dangerous by any means... but he didn't want to test that theory. "Do you understand me?" he asks her with a weary look. For all he knew... she wouldn't understand a word he was saying. She did look a little like him though. Not an inch of fur on her body. Except the hair on her head. He pauses before sighing. "I.... I was brought here" he explains. "I need to get back home" he mutters with a pause, looking around. "Where am i?".
 
Perla’s kohl-rimmed eyes widened in surprise when the human grabbed her wrists - a little roughly for her liking. But he then released her and scrambled backwards, hands up in near-surrender.

And near-surrender was enough for the battle-scarred witch.

“I understand,” she said speaking in the Basic that they both knew. “You are on Dathomir.”

It’s likely he was hurt from the crash or even in shock. “Does it hurt to move?” Perla rose up, her long tan legs gleaming in the sun. While Perla normally wore the type of loose fitting garments of, dun-colored gowns or light-leather tunics that the man would be familiar with as ubiquitous in the peasant class, on this day she wore clothing that would both protect her from the elements but allow for her skin to breath. Her black hair was unwashed, boots dusty, signaling that the witch’s shelter, if she had any, was likely a crude camp.

Xana snorted and pulled against her tethers which gave Perla an idea. It was possible to drag the ship, perhaps even bring it to the Great Mountain Clan as a peace offering. As she inspected the exterior of the vessel again, not letting the man out of her sight, she said, “I have medicine if you are wounded.”

[member="Daran Carn"]
 
"Darthomir?" he repeats, the word feeling odd as it rolled off his tongue. He nods. "I... am from Cathar" he says finally. "I was brought here on the ship" he motions back at it with a sigh as he runs his hand through his hair, in truth... he didn't feel hurt at all... in fact, perhaps rather energetic? Especially with the adrenaline coursing through his being as he sighs. "No" He replies with a shake of his head.

​His eyes flick up at the beast she'd so easily just... put aside with a few stern words. He pauses at the offer of medicine. Then hesitates as he inspects himself. Other than a few bruises here and there... he had not been harmed in any way... that might last or leave any scarring. "No, it's fine. Who are you?" he questions. "You... look like me yet.... there is a certain aura to you" he notes. "The say you... control this beast." he motions hesitantly at Xana who was pulling at what kept her bound to the ship.

​Daran looks around, "If it's money you want.... I looted the corpses on the way out. I assume most didn't leave their valuables when they fled. I can give it to you" he offers. "Is there any way perhaps... you could help me get onto a ship? I really must be going home soon, I have people waiting back home.... assuming well, they've not given up hope and put me aside for the dead. Even then I must be going as soon as I can."
 
Perla had never been to Cathar, though the planet’s species would occasionally settle upon nearby Dathomir, and as long as the cat-like males adjusted to the matriarchal society, they did just fine. She’d lived upon nearby Axxila and engaged in battle for the Primeval on a couple of contested worlds, but other than that, the witch had not seen much of the galaxy.

Relief washed over her when she found that he was not hurt, less because of any empathy and more because he would not be an impediment as Perla fully planned to keep him around for a little while. She would stop short of subjugation, but perhaps he’d be of some use to her at camp, or when she planned to return to Mother Zivka, provided he had no ways and means off of the planet.

“My name is Perla. I returned to Dathomir only recently. Right now I’m living on my own.”

“Were you a slave?” Perla asked. “If you were, then is it really up to me to free you? What if your master comes seeking retribution?” A mirthful glint in her dark eyes let him know that her sentiment was more playful than serious. The Dathomirian native ignored his comment about her beast mastery. He would come to see that in time.

“The nearest spaceport is miles from here. You will not survive on your own.” Or perhaps he was a sturdier and more capable warrior then she realized and he would; all the better because she could use a hunting partner in the short term.

“Come with me. I’ll provide you with shelter and food.” Finally Perla scanned his Force signature and realized he had some kind of sensitivity.

“Are you a Jedi?”

[member="Daran. C"]
 
"Perla" he repeats with a nod. Commiting the name to memory as he nods at her. "I am called Daran" he replies with a sigh as he awkwardly scratches his head before then raising an eyebrow at her question.

"No... I am a warrior among my people" he explains with a sigh. "We were attacked and unfortunately... most of what we had were no match, we were outclassed in terms of weapons used and the numbers we possessed" he says with a sigh. "I was, taken with them when they left with whatever spoils they've gathered" he explains as he scratches his head. "But I do not know if the people would return here, I assure you I am of no importance to any of them" he says with a sigh.

Nodding greatfully at her offer, he pauses at the final question. "Jedi? Me? Hardly. From what I've heard, jedi are legendary warrior. Blessed with blades able to pierce anything and are blessed with the ability to use the force" he says. "I am neither a warrior of that calibre nor do I possess these abilities they are said to have" he says. "Except" he trails off.

​He glances at her... what choice did he have? She saved him... in a way, he had to trust someone. "The reason I was brought was, well... this wasn't the first time it's happened but in rare instances where I lose my temper and control.... I am able to do things to people. Things well.... regular people shouldn't, I believe it was because the pirate saw this that I was brought along with them"
 
Perla listened, but with an impatient tap of her foot. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy conversation; the fact of the matter was the longer they remained out there at the crash site the likelihood of another clan coming upon them and taking the ship which she still had designs on. At least to sell or use the parts. Like a fresh kill, nothing would be left to vultures or to decomposition.

But what he said about losing his temper and control… that was quite interesting. “We need to keep moving before the Ssurians come through here. I have spotted them in this area before, and Xana can take down one or two but not twelve. I’ll come back for the vessel after I get you to camp.

Hands on her hips, Perla turned her head towards the bull rancor, which snorted and cast her yellow reptilian eyes upon him as though to dare him to climb upon her.

“You’re going up there,” she said, reinforcing the expectation that Darran was to ride with her on the imposing, carnivorous beast. And with that Perla moved to Xana’s side, indicating that she would help him climb upon the rancor.

[member="Daran. C"]
 
Daran nods, "The Ssurians?" he questions. Though he was able to put two and two together for the most part in making the assumption that she wasn't on good terms with whoever they were. He sighs before nodding at this, a bit more anxious when told that... it would only take a dozen to take down a beast like hers. Not wanting to test that theory he pauses.

Running his hand through his beard as he seemed to consider this he then lets out a nervous chuckle he sighs, with shaky feet walking towards the rancor. With her assistance he does manage to get onto the beasts back, she did say she'd help him... or he assumed that was what she was going to do... hopefully. He reaches down before offering his hand to her. "Come now, at the very least... let me repay you for well your assistance" he mutters as he helps her up.

​He didn't mind sitting there behind her, his eyes running over Perla. "How did you know.... that I was able to you know.. use the force?" he asks her curiously. Having come to terms with... well he was more than he himself realised in that sense. "I mean, you simply looked at me" he notes. "Don't tell me you're just some regular scavenger now"
 
“Thanks,” Perla said, taking the man’s hand and swinging herself up onto the beast’s back as though it was second nature. With a fluid motion, she unlooped the rancor from the vessel and took the reins in both of her hands. She didn’t need to warn him to hold on tight as they were high enough, and Xana powerful enough to throw either of them off if she wanted. But Perla’s muscular legs clamped into place astride the saddle. And truth be told, it felt damn good to have the human’s hands around her waist. She’d been very isolated out in the Dathomirian wilderness, biding her time to figure out the best way and approach to gain favor with Mother Zivka and return to her clan.

As she spoke, she sunk back into him a little, despite the warmth of the sun upon their shoulders and backs. The ride was smoother than Daran would have thought for such a lumbering beast.

“It’s not a look. It’s a feeling. I know you have the Force because of my own Force connection.”

She did not want to startle him and have him break a leg by falling off her mount so she’d give him a demonstration once at camp.

Daran would see that her make-shift home was an abandoned settlement, once thriving, but now in state of disrepair. Thump, thump, thump… thump… thump... they were once again stationary. Before Perla jumped off the beast, she whispered to it, stroking its reptilian cranium, and then she slid off, this time not tying it up on a lead.

“Make yourself at home.” The witch went over to a small fire, now just embers really and stirred some kind of gruel in a cauldron, which actually smelled quite savory.

[member="Daran. C"]
 
Daran instinctively found himself wrapping his arms around her waist as he shuffles closer to her. Not keen on falling off of the rancor... from this height, he did value his own life after-all. As he inhales, he does breathe in her scent... which wasn't unpleasant by any means. In fact... it had a rather soothing effect. Along with the fact that she seemingly melted back against him. From the looks of it... it wasn't just him that needed some sort of contact, but most likely for two very different reasons.

"Ah... I see" He replies with a sigh. "So are you a jedi? I do not see your sabre" he notes with a frown as he glances around to see if he'd just missed it because he wasn't observant enough but finds nothing. Getting off the beast as she comes to a halt. Tentatively glancing back at her as he then turns back to Perla as he follows her. Looking around... this camp of hers. "Ah.. hmm do you live alone?" he asks her curiously as he then glances at the pot.

​Then down at his own stomach which growls, longing for whatever lay underneath the lid which she put back on. He rubs his stomach, willing it to be silent. "Sorry" he says finally. "You've helped me more than enough... I wouldn't want to intrude" he says with a sigh. "It looks rather cozy" he notes. Glancing around, he was unsure if she expected him to spend the night with her... or elsewhere. Just in case, he'd have to figure out just where he'd call home for the night.

His mind drifts back to his question from earlier. "So if you aren't a jedi... and you are capable of manipulating the force...." he trails off with a thoughtful look over his features as his eyes scan her, "What exactly are you?"
 
It was endearingly cute how little the Cathar native knew about the galaxy, but then again, Perla was no jet-setter. In fact, she often found it rare to encounter someone who had traveled less than she had. But she answered his question with an easy smile, more grateful for the company than she’d realized she would be.

“I do live here alone. For now. Until I’m allowed back in my clan.”

As Daran eyed the stew, Perla dished out two bowls of it with crude utensils - one of them found and the other made. Xana’s nostrils flared and she grumbled as the food was served, until the witch said, “Quiet! You’ve already eaten way too much today.”

Handing him the soup, she sat down on a couple of crates near the fire.

“I’m Dathomirian. A Daughter of Allya, or some call us Nightsisters. Witches. I’m no Jedi. But since you have the Force inside of you, I can teach you things… spells, chants, powers.” While there was something slightly feral and untamed about Perla, she did not appear to want to harm him at least.

"So you haven't had a Master or anything? What about your parents? At least one of them must have been Force sensitive."

[member="Daran. C"]
 
Daran raises an eyebrow. "You were... banished?" he asks her curiously. Unsure why she would have to... be allowed back into her clan. His mind wandering to thoughts of... just what she'd done to get banished and how she was planning on trying to get whoever banished her to let her back in. Hopefully nothing to do with him because the idea of..... being offered as a peace treaty was not something that was high on his list of priorities.

Daran glances back at the Rancor with a sigh. Contemplating offering her some food... but decides against it. Feeling rather certain that she'd be more than likely to just take his arm along with whatever it was he would offer her. Then glancing over at Perla, he listens to her introduction.

"A witch?" he asks. Brows furrowed... "Haven't heard a lot of good things about your kind... from tales I've heard" he notes with a sigh as he eyes her warily... all the same he trusted her. Something he had a feeling he might end up regretting but... she'd saved him. He was indebted to the woman. He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. "I suppose that might come in handy in the long run... hmm for time being I'd gladly have you as my teacher" he says with a sigh. Hoping that her own priority would be to find him a way off this planet.

​"No. Well... I do have parents but not my birth parents" He explains finally. "I never actually.... met them" He says with a sigh, "From what I know well all I really know are they were human. They mostly kept to themselves" he explains with a shrug. "But they weren't from Kathar." he says with a shrug, "So I really have no idea who my parents were" he says with a light sigh as he runs his hand through his hair.

​He looks around, "And yourself? You don't look that much older than myself.... hmm maybe even a few years younger, it's difficult to tell. Your parents in the clan?" he asks her curiously. "Why would the go through with your banishment if they are?" he asks. Tasting the soup finally as he looks at her with a surprised look. "This is delicious!"
 
Laughter pealed out like a bell from Perla’s lips as Daran spoke about tales of witches being used to scare the children. “We were told similar tales of Cathar and even of the Sith. But you are Catharian in a way? You might not have fur, but that is your home world. And here you are before me, completely benign.” Her dark brows lofted curiously. “At least I hope you won’t hurt me.”

Her soft tone had an undercurrent of bravado as though she dared him to try.

The Dathomirian took a couple of bites of the soup and then set the bowl down in front of her. How much to tell the newcomer of her past? It didn’t make her look very good… not at all, but there were two approaches she could take. One would be to completely lie to him, to manipulate him and then discard him, guarding this secret at all costs. That was what the Primeval would have wanted.

But the other was to tell the truth.

“When I was a teenager I killed… another Daughter from the clan. It was an accident. I had been experimenting with dark magic and conjured a flood which killed the girl. My parents accepted my punishment which was exile. That’s why I lived on Axxila away from my friends and family and eventually went to Bastion to fight…”

She stopped, her brown eyes gazing at Daran’s blue orbs. Clearly it was difficult for her to talk about as Perla still felt so much shame and regret over the act.

“Sometimes I don’t know that I even deserve to go back. Maybe I’m destined to be an orphan like you. Or an outsider."

But was her fate to be a Nightsister as everyone had expected her to be? Turning to the Darkside of the Force to soothe the scathing regret and envy that coursed through her at not being able to ever join her clan again?

[member="Daran. C"]
 
He chuckles, even if I wished to hurt you I doubt I would have dared with..." he motions back at her pet Rancor behind them. "But no... you helped me. I am indebted to you Perla" he replies with a nod of his head. Offering her a greatful smile. At his question, he could see that she seemed to be deciding weither or not to tell him or not.

"Ah... I see" he trails off when she tells her story about killing the girl. He runs his hand through his hair, "Was it murder or an accident?" he asks her curiously. He wasn't quite aware of what this Bastion she spoke of was... but all the same felt a pang of sympathy for her. "I see..." he trails off. "They had no choice" he replies wit ha sigh as he stares back at her with a light smile. "So you're trying to earn your place with them by?" he presses on. His initial worry bubbling up again.

​"If there is anything I can do to well help. I will be more than happy to provided it doesn't take too long" he replies with a pause. He sighs. "Well.. orphan or not I did have people to call my family. Living isolated... well that's not something I've gone through and I doubt you do either. Though I suppose for the time being I will keep you company" he notes thoughtfully. "Assuming you wouldn't mind having me" he says with a sigh. Rummimg his hand through his hair.

"And her?" he asks her curiously motioning at the beast, glancing back at it warily. "Did you tame her in your time out here? I suppose in a way she is family too" He says thoughtfully. Finishing up the soup, he sets the bowl down. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Is there... anywhere. a stream perhaps? Or a well that I could wash up?" he questions.
 
“I am indebted to you, Perla.”

That sentiment… it felt so good, so achingly welcome to the witch who’d been in solitude on Dathomir for quite awhile with no one to talk to but Xana that tears actually sprang to her eyes until the kohl rimming her lids began to smear, and Perla wiped away the moisture with the back of her hand.

“I don’t mind at all,” she said in a softer voice, much more of a gentle and resigned countenance than she’d shown him when she first stomped up to the crash site on her rancor. “And yes, I did tame her, and now she’s bonded to me through the Force. She will listen only to me. Formidable, eh? I brought her on the battlefield once, but she nearly died from a torpedo wound. I’ll show you the scar if she’ll let you get close.”

Perla rose, quite content to not discuss the past anymore as it clearly upset her. She nearly skipped over to him, and taking Daran by the hand, led him down a small path to a stream which widened as it ran south. She pointed to the deeper end. “You should be relatively safe in there. I can keep a look out for crocodiles and such.” She smiled as though encountering giant lizards while you tried to bathe were an everyday occurrence. Perla sat on the stream bank, her brown eyes alight with interest, perhaps in more than just the aquatic predators.

[member="Daran. C"]
 
Daran notices the tears threatening to escape her eyes and raises a concerned eyebrow at her, silently asking her if something was the matter... but he decides not to press that matter verbally as she did seem like a woman with her share of mysteries.

​Daran nods, "Alright then... hmm and well I suppose time will tell." he mutters as he glances over... his eyes scanning the rancors body as is searching for a scar. He shrugs it off. "Hmm well I suppose the two of you'd been through quite a lot then hm?" he asks her with a grin. She seemed a lot more cheerful now that the topic had strayed away from her banishment and what her parents had done.

​Darren's eyes widen when Perla then moves in, taking his hand. He follows her, keeping up with her brisk pace. Once she gets them to the stream. He pauses before warily eyeing the stream. "Crocodiles?" he asks hesitantly. "Hmm perhaps get the water into a bucket and bathe outside.." He mutters. There were no buckets around but he sighs, shrugging it off. Glancing back at her... so she'd be there seeing him as well. Daran had never been with a woma, while on Kathar... no one in particular interested him. Human women were very, very rare so now in the presence of one... he had no idea what to do.

​He sighs as he then gingerly peels his shirt off. The fact that her eyes would be on him the entire time did not really bother him a whole lot as he undresses completely. Stepping towards the water as he glances back at her. Then with a sigh, wading over towards the water. "Will you be joining me?" he asks her. Glancing out and over at her. "The water... is... really nice" he notes, rather thoughtfully with a smile on his face. Now having moved towards slightly deeper water. His feet still able to touch the ground.
 
“You’ll be fine,” Perla said with a smile that hinted at mischief as though the warning about the crocodiles was invented and said to keep him on his toes. And the water did seem tranquil - clear, blue with lush foliage on either side - it was hard to imagine a giant lizard swimming through and interrupting the bucolic scene. Even the rocks had a thick layer of moss growing a top them, their jagged edges dulled to a velvety softness.

Out of modesty, the Dathomirian turned her head as Daran undressed and slipped into the water. Despite being in the shade, she was still overheated from the day, her skin radiating warmth and an ever-present sheen on her forehead from sweating.

“Sure, why not,” Perla said, rising up from where she sat and boldly undressing, hanging the parts of her garments made from animal skin on a nearby branch, while the fabric elements remained in the mud upon the river bank where she would wash them later.

After a long swim, the witch could see it getting dark, goosebumps appearing on her arm, skin pruned and teeth almost chattering. “It gets cold at night. We better go back to camp.”

A long, low, rumbling growl from Xana greeted them back at Perla’s makeshift home as a cadence of insects and frogs ceased their chorus at the arrival of the humans. “I know she can be frightening, but the Dathomirian leopards who hunt at night would sweep into camp without her here.”

[member="Daran. C"]
 

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