Louise
here for your dad
The Dusky Gamorrean, Carida City
The Silent Sister of Rattatak sat indignantly in the corner booth of the empty cantina, wounded leg up and resting upon a chair. It was safe to say that all vaguely mentioned events of the One Sith's takeover were far from the woman's mind in that moment. Why? Well, a very terse interaction that had only occurred five minutes before.
Evelynn had come, half crawling half dragging herself along the city streets, her poor left knee having been completely wrecked by the fury of some hoity-toity Jedi bint. She avoided looking at the injury, as the massive lump seemed to be breeding and growing.
Coming to the Dusky Gamorrean she had found that the establishment had been closed, and yet the scraping of tables and chairs could have been heard from within. So from on the floor the woman clanged upon the door with her ominous-looking staff.
“We're closed!”
A booming telepathic message was sent to the establishment's owner, both booming and haughty. I don't care if you're closed! I require medical assistance!
There was a peculiar yelp, the automatic reaction most had when hit by a round of frigid telepathy. “LOOK OUTSIDE, LADY! THERE'S AN INVASION!”
I. AM. OUT. SIDE.
She placed her unarmed hand flat against the solid door and began to ramp up the pressure. The metal began to groan and bend, which naturally gave the owner cause for concern. Doors are expensive to replace, after all. “Wait! What are you doing?! STOP! I'LL LET YOU IN!”
The door finally opened, already half-damaged due to the way it juddered slowly as it slid open. Of course, precaution had to be taken and the owner of the bar was found using an overturned table as a cover, pointing his blaster at the doorway until he realised his guest was a malnourished blonde woman laying on the ground. Pity train, incoming.
So fast forward a few moments to Evelynn and here we are, sitting there with her leg up resting. Her new bartender minion rummaging through the store rooms to fetch a bacta patch for that nasty looking bump.
The Silent Sister of Rattatak sat indignantly in the corner booth of the empty cantina, wounded leg up and resting upon a chair. It was safe to say that all vaguely mentioned events of the One Sith's takeover were far from the woman's mind in that moment. Why? Well, a very terse interaction that had only occurred five minutes before.
Evelynn had come, half crawling half dragging herself along the city streets, her poor left knee having been completely wrecked by the fury of some hoity-toity Jedi bint. She avoided looking at the injury, as the massive lump seemed to be breeding and growing.
Coming to the Dusky Gamorrean she had found that the establishment had been closed, and yet the scraping of tables and chairs could have been heard from within. So from on the floor the woman clanged upon the door with her ominous-looking staff.
“We're closed!”
A booming telepathic message was sent to the establishment's owner, both booming and haughty. I don't care if you're closed! I require medical assistance!
There was a peculiar yelp, the automatic reaction most had when hit by a round of frigid telepathy. “LOOK OUTSIDE, LADY! THERE'S AN INVASION!”
I. AM. OUT. SIDE.
She placed her unarmed hand flat against the solid door and began to ramp up the pressure. The metal began to groan and bend, which naturally gave the owner cause for concern. Doors are expensive to replace, after all. “Wait! What are you doing?! STOP! I'LL LET YOU IN!”
The door finally opened, already half-damaged due to the way it juddered slowly as it slid open. Of course, precaution had to be taken and the owner of the bar was found using an overturned table as a cover, pointing his blaster at the doorway until he realised his guest was a malnourished blonde woman laying on the ground. Pity train, incoming.
So fast forward a few moments to Evelynn and here we are, sitting there with her leg up resting. Her new bartender minion rummaging through the store rooms to fetch a bacta patch for that nasty looking bump.