Lavigny's Ghost

[Lavigny Fynch]

"Well, this is where we part ways." The captain extended his hand.

The scene in the starport played out just a few minutes after landing. A light freighter behind them hummed with eagerness to return to the stars above. The Red Moons had gotten her far enough outside of Sith territory, on a world called Centares. Here however they would take her no further.

Behind the captain stood another woman. "You still owe me that drink," she teased. She couldn't have been more than a few years younger than Lavigny.

The two of them had become something close to friends along the way, but Lavigny knew she probably wouldn't see any of them again.

Lavigny waved her metal hand dismissively. "Yeah, well you couldn't handle it ya' lightweight." She then extended her hand to shake the captain's. "You know if you wanted to really to help me out you could leave the ship." Without much to her name except a few credits, her pistols... a hangover; Lavigny wasn't going faraway anytime soon.

The captain gave her the one-finger salute and returned to the ship with the rest of his crew.

"Good luck!" The woman shouted from the ramp.

Sometime later Lavigny found herself deep in the city after wandering aimlessly for a few hours. A distinctive twi'lek-shaped holosign caught the spacer's attention, and now beckoned her patronage. In a place like this it didn't matter the time of day--the cantina was packed. Aliens, humanoids, and droids alike filled the rooms and what little space remained became a maze for Lavigny to trial.

Her reward awaited her at the end of yet another bottle. With less credits now than when she started, Lavigny stared gloomily into the empty glass.

"I need to stop doing this to myself..." She murmured.

[member="Rory Naasade"]

 

[Rory Naasade]

At the booth next to Lavigny, a male duros sat. He was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. Both arms were spread out along the back of the bench, and he sighed, long and low, clearly relaxing.

"Yeah that feels good."

There was something muffled from under the table. The duros winced and opened one eye.

"That.... is not a good angle no, go back to how it was. Yeah that's the ticket."

Something muffled. The duros frowned, looking uncomfortable.

"No, it's always been like that, what do you mean it looks weird?"

A reply.

"Look I'm not paying you to critique, just to take care of it, okay?"

Things got quiet again then for a little bit. Then the duros twitched, eyes flying open, a hiss.

A head full of dark curls popped out from under the table.

"Sorry, but I did warn you. Rotator's bad. Need to replace the whole thing. I did a patch job so it'll work for awhile till you can get the part you need- next time at my SHIP Tre'lan. No more cantina calls. Don't wait till you are half drunk and your knee seizes up to call me, got it?"

The duros nodded, a little sheepish.

"Thanks Rory, I owe you one."

Shimmying out from underneath the table, the young woman laughed, shaking her head.

"Well yeah but pay me and you won't." She smiled brightly.

Credits exchanged hands, Rory hitched her tool bag over her shoulder, and went whistling over to the bar.

[member="Lavigny Fynch"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Lavigny Fynch"] | [member="Rory Naasade"]

A few minutes after Rory settled down at the bar a shadow graced the entrance's presence.

In came Varlo.

Heads immediately careened.

This was not something that was unheard of for Varlo. He was large. Not just his bulk, not just the mug of his face that was build like a boulder. It was the way he carried himself. Slow. Meticulous. Every step like a micro-shift of a glacier. Full of purpose and careful. Even if you were a 5 foot nothing, weighing barely a thing? You could almost feel the weight he was carrying around.

He plopped himself unceremoniously next to Rory.

The seat almost sank half an inch. Varlo grunted, but ignored it after that. "Ale." Like several boulders grinding together and just as talkative. "Figured out the guy's leg?" He asked while waiting for his drink.

His eyes were on the bartender.

Back and forth, back and forth, watching every movement he made. I trust people, fine. As long as I can see what they are doing. Varlo had once explained in far more elaborate wording than Rory was used to him. The bar had cleared out a bit once he settled in. Just him, Rory, two Rodians at the corner. Then a blonde lady with a metric feth ton of cyber-ware.

Varlo would have whistled, if Rory hadn't extinguished the quota already.

"Haven't tried to tinker on her cybernetics yet?" Dryly said.

 

[Lavigny Fynch]

Of all strings in this symphony of vice and pleasure, a whistle, non-suggestive at that, stood out.

Lavigny panned over to see Rory, and a tool bag she imagined to contain valuables. Were she not affixed on the bag, she might've noticed Varlo's comment, but alas of all the upgrades she had done, better perception was not among them.

The number of empty bottles that fortified Lavigny's position at the bar should've suggested great impairment. However, when she swiveled on the stool she didn't even bobble in the slightest.

Her gaze was far from oblivious, but she did little to hide her directive. Lavigny was something, but 'thief' did not often hang in her closet of many hats. Perhaps ignorant to the situation she had a different game to play.

"Nice bag." The spacer remarked with a drunken gag.

"Care to wager it in a drinking game?" Her fingers clacked along the counter in repetition.

[member="Rory Naasade"] | [member="Varlo Shysa"]

 

[Rory Naasade]

The casual whistle over to the bar hadn't been for the blonde woman, but right at the end there was an up-lilt that absolutely might have been as Rory slid onto a stool. She ordered a drink- "Surprise me," she offered, sliding a credit chit to the bartender- but the corner of her eye was on [member="Lavigny Fynch"].

Well.

On her cybernetics anyway.

When the walking earth quake that was [member="Varlo Shysa"] came stomping in, she glanced up at him, accepting the drink- "Wait, add an umbrella, yup, perfect." - from the bartender.

"Hey now, I was in admirin' mode," she said with a grin, "Gotta ease into these things before asking a stranger if you can take a look under their hood. You wouldn't know though, huh Varlo?" Her elbow in his rib was like elbowing a granite cliff face.

Apparently their attention was noticed. Or her tool bag. Either way.

"Thanks!" Came the cheerful reply. It was a nice bag. One of the first thing she's bought for herself once money had started coming in through Charon.

When she offered to gamble for it, Rory laughed. Pleasant and easy, head tilted back.

"Yeah nah, that's my livelihood. Some things you just don't bet with." Wide smile. "'Sides, I'm a light-weight. Bad option for me. Despite what Varlo here thinks I'm not actually stupid. Well, not usually."

Rory was, apparently, a talker.

"I'm Rory. This pile of rocks is Varlo." She said, tapping the back of her hand against his chest, like she was knocking on a door. "You got a name, or should I just go back to drooling over your gear? I'm easy."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Rory Naasade"] | [member="Lavigny Fynch"]

He took the ale.

Eyed the umbrella put in there at the same time as Rory's.

Ignored it and tried his best to slurp around it. This wasn't an easy accomplishment, because it kept poking in his nose. Eventually Varlo sighed and gave up. Took it out and as Rory's focus shifted towards the cybernetics, dropped it in her drink. Two for the price of one. For once he had been fast about it.

"I do not do a lot of admiring, no. Unless you have a new explosive for me?" The tone hopeful, but the eyes mostly muted. Taking another sip from his drink as she struck up a conversation with the cyborg.

The poke.

Then the slap on his chest.

Varlo suppressed an internal sigh. The small woman next to him had always been rather... touchy. It had been something to get used to, if he was being honest. Most of the time people were too intimidated to talk to him, much less prod him in the side every two seconds to pull in his attention.

"You are smarter than I am, Rory." Shysa rebuked her dryly. "You just don't take the time to think things through."

On the flipside Varlo was known for taking an eternity to make decisions.

Like a mountain.... ages passing as the decisions were formed by sedimentation and the winds. "She will dismantle you where you stand, if you don't take care." A grumble over Rory's head, before his nose ducked back into the ale. Sluuuuurp. Smack of the lips.

"Dis da good stuff."

Rishi drawl slipping in just a bit out of pleasure.

 

[Lavigny Fynch]

Lavigny took in this new information like Varlo took in that drink. Too fast, if you couldn't guess.

"Well... I see you two aren't short of talkative." She commented on their back-and-forth banter. It left little time for interjection, or retort for that matter. Not that she had any business getting involved in what sounded like a reflection of their history together.

A process went through her head. She tried to understand who they were, why they were so friendly, and what their intentions are. Rory might've been easy to miss weren't it for her outright enthusiasm. But Varlo on the other hand stood. His demeanor was that of a soldier, but not the kind who fought for any purpose other than his own. An aura of danger surrounded him, yet the way he struggled with his umbrella foiled that entire persona in but a second.

She took the brief lapse in conversation to finally answer. "Lavigny," she said as she pushed the empty glass towards Rory. "If you get me another drink I'll let you do more than drool." A subtle smirk made itself at home upon her face.

[member="Rory Naasade"] | [member="Varlo Shysa"]

 

[Rory Naasade]

"Nothing ON me Var. I don't carry that sort of stuff around and you know it," she said, chuckling at his disappointed face. Then- "Won't 'less she says I can," Rory responded with a bit of an offended pout.

A smile at the blonde woman, wide and easy and friendly. "Well, I am, he comes and goes. Mostly goes. But I can get him talking and he hates me for it." The grin widened.

For someone looking for ulterior motives, they'd end up stumped on Rory. She really was just that friendly and outgoing. Or at least close enough for it to be the truth. Years on the streets made people grow their own versions of defense mechanisms. Rory had gone the route of 'friend to all' and now it was simply second nature for the dark haired woman.

"Whatcha drinkin' then? Won't hold you to that- can't make promises like that while drinking but I'll keep it in mind," Rory said with a wink. It wasn't clear for a moment if she was flirting or still literally talking about her cybernetics. Six of one, half dozen of the other.

She'd just gotten paid and Rory wasn't really the sort to not enjoy it when she had it. No matter what you did it was gone too soon, right?

She motioned the bartender over to refill the other woman's glass. Her own was still only a few sips in so she was perfectly content to buy the round for Varlo and-

"Lavigny you said? Whoooo that's fancy. Lav okay or you want the whole thing? Why you wanna be making wagers with strangers for the contents of their bags? Seems like there are better ways to meet people. Varlo and me, we work together, you got business out here?"

Easy, casual, conversational. Genuinely curious.

A hundred questions.
[member="Lavigny Fynch"] [member="Varlo Shysa"]