Private I Wanna Be A Mandalorian, Baby

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

There wasn’t much to see on Arvala-7, not many places to be on this planet, with only a handful of scattered settlements in comparison with a world like Tatooine. A different desert, maybe, but truly otherwise more of the same. One with mud flats and jagged canyons; dangerous caves to brave for the adventurous; cantinas for the drunk and bored; mudhorns and blurrgs among other creatures toiling with moisture farmers.

Sometime around high noon, somewhere out there surrounded by mountains, was a town called Brightmoon. Amid its dust and dirt were simple structures similar to each other, tanned by sand and crusted in mud. There were some homes, looking as homely as what was barely a police station, several markets like a general store and body shop along with a barber’s for haircuts, a hotel as well.

There was, undoubtedly, a cantina in the distance. A bit distant, that is, as a Mandalorian walks toward it, her ship parked outside the town, the wind barking at her armor. The beskar’gam would only laugh back, yet her red cloak billowed in the gust as dust swarmed her. She moved forward, helmet on head, blaster rifle on back, toward The Rival Bull.

The Mandalorian walked in, looked side to side, saw no other Mandalorian unless she missed but wasn’t really looking. Such patrons of this cantina weren’t on her agenda, but someone was. She approached the bar opposite the entrance. The place wasn’t that busy so there were seats.

The Mandalorian ignored the looks of fools, found a stool and took a seat. She tapped two fingers on the counter to get the bartender’s attention, then tilted those two fingers sideways. “Vodka. Straight.”

She sat down. Out came a small glass and a tall bottle of alcohol. Bartender poured. Mandalorian took her helmet off, freeing a long braid of brown hair that hung down her back. Helmet set aside, she took a sip and licked her lips.

Empty stool on her left, obviously intoxicated guy on her right giving her his eye. He cocked his brow like a shotgun in a crowd, licked his lips, and began to bop his head to the music and lyrics.

-BURP!- "Marry this man, you gorgeous beautiful Mandalorian woman, and let ye have no fear, for I shall adore you in my heart as my husband and be your dutiful and sworn wife!”

“Think you got that last part backwards, my guy.”

He looked left, looked right.

“Whaddya say ya take my hand, ma'am, and may we take a chance and let’s dance until the sunset burns away or till we both collapse from too much liquor in our veins and guts and then some?”

“Nope.”

He cleared his throat, lifted his whiskey. “Here’s to Peter, my long lost loth cat who died from a heart attack after gettin' shot by a blaster in the back by them darn Nagai pirates!” -CHUG!-

“Cheers to Mandalore! May the Force be with you!” -CHUG!- "AND HERE'S TO—" -THUNK!-

“Oof.” The Mandalorian responded as the drunk man’s head landed on the counter and he went quiet. With that, she checked the time. Nice. Will arrive any minute. She took another sip. The vodka bit back and she liked it.

Hilal Vizsla

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Current Outfit


"Can I have a tall glass of Jawa Juice please?" Hilal placed some credits onto the counter placing her hands on her chin sighing. This planet was pretty boring, not much to look at other than this desolate cantina. However, Hilal needed to refuel her starship which was running low for hours. The Bounty Hunter moaned at that thought, it would take even longer to have her ship topped off. Given the model of Hilal's ship, she estimated around 4 hours, she groaned breathing heavily out of her nose. She should've refueled earlier but Hilal had a lot of contracts to take care of, it was a top priority for her but then again Hilal was thankful that she didn't end up marooned in the middle of space. She was currently in the process of making an emergency jump engine that way she can go back to a designated planet in case she ran out of fuel but alas.

It didn't help that there were two people one a woman and another a man were being loud and obnoxious not too far from where Hilal was sitting. She drummed her fingers on her cheeks trying her best to ignore the noise but the infernal yelling made Hilal's head want to explode. "HEY!" Hilal shouted at the bronze skin woman. "CAN YOU KEEP IT DOWN?! I'M CAN'T THINK WITH YOU GUYS YELLING LIKE DRUNKEN ASSCHITS!"

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

The bronze-skinned woman tapped her fingers on the counter, patiently waiting for the guest of the hour to arrive. Any minute now, she had expressed to herself, but any minute could be any second, and any second could turn into an hour if said guest was delayed in any way.

Content to relax at the bar counter, the Mandalorian sipped her drink, knocked it back, gestured toward the bartender for another pour of two fingers’ worth. He reached under the counter as the warrior within her wondered what kind of scatterblaster he was keeping beneath. Good thing this drunken idiot beside me didn’t need it to shut his loud mouth—

“HEY!”

“DANK FERRIK!” She blinked back at the little miss sitting adjacent. Startled, but not enough to reach for her own arsenal of weapons, the Mandalorian just stiffened her lips like what-the-kriff?

“Yelling like drunken asschits?” The cowgal looked like she had only just grown herself a pair of tits. Nice poncho though. Matched her red cloak. “Only one who was yelling and drunk is Sleeping Beauty here beside me.” She grinned toward the guy sitting and slumping to her right, forehead on the bar, counting stars.

The Mandalorian glanced at the girl’s glass. That was probably juice by her hand or a mix of spirits she got away with. Whatever it was, she didn’t appear to be drunk. “You’re free to think now, cowgirl. Drink up.” The Mandalorian looked up. Sports just came on the viewscreen as she sipped her own drink.

Hilal Vizsla

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Current Outfit

Hilal took a deep breath trying to relax herself. Lately Vletti'azan'uosus had been teaching her deep breathing exercises lately so that she can be less uptight. It was working so far at least. Hilal saw the bartender slid her glass of Jawa Juice towards her while the bronze skinned woman sat right next to her. "Good thing he's knocked out," Hilal muttered. "Otherwise, I would've been the one to rip his tongue out."

She slowly craned her head towards the bronze skinned woman her gaze analyzing her every feature. "Sorry," Hilal said taking a sip of her Jawa Juice. "I'm just suffering from boredom right now. It's my first time on this rock and there's not much to do here."

Hilal took another sip smiling at the woman, at least she could make a friend in the process. "What is your name?" Hilal asked. "I'm Hilal of Clan Vizsla and I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

“Anvil.” Casany Praxor answered Hilal of Clan Vizsla without looking at her. Tongue between teeth, she didn’t lick her lips this time around as she swallowed bittersweet buried memories, so hollow in her chest, and turned her head and attention to the bar’s younger guest at the other end, but the two weren’t much different from each other as far as being another patron went.

“If you wanted to be bored to death then Arvala-7 is the best place for it.” Anvil grinned again, a sly smile, like she contrarily already had the secret to adventure on this planet whether her contemporary wanted to discover it.

“Clan Vizsla, huh?” She looked down, looked up, taking in the brown pants, the hat, that brave poncho again that gave the expression of red dead redemption, and revenge was something a Mandalorian was versed in. The old color meant honoring a parent, gold meant vengeance, and Anvil burned and blazoned both on her armor.

“You look more like a cowgirl about to twirl with blurrgs more than a Mandalorian, that’s for certain.” No offense. No frown. No insult. Not annoyed. There was bound to be a story behind this gal’s outfit, whatever she told. “Su’cuy.”

Hilal Vizsla