Faction (ME) The Choices We Regret

[Aren D'Shade]

After her return to Naboo, her plans there did not go at all like she had envisioned. Instead of a budding romance, it was now in the dirt. Leaving what she had thought was going to a future behind, she returned to Mandalore. A place that was slowly becoming a home to her.

It wasn't as busy as Denon was or as sedate as Naboo. Somewhere in between, and Aren thought she might end up liking the planet. Right now, she needed a drink or ten. Something to distract her from Cassian and focus on other issues. Like, where the next drink was coming from.

Hearing some thumping base coming from one of the wild stages of The Raucous Bounty, she walked in. Luckily, she wasn't the only person without a helmet on, and she was able to squeeze herself onto a spot at the bar.

"Give me Starseeker's Brew."

Setting a credit chit down, anything else would be covered by the single item. Money was never an issue for Aren, and her drink was put in front of her relatively quickly. As she was alone, she lifted it in a silent toast and tossed it back.

"Keep them coming."

She knew better than to try that with Te'har, but there was more to drink than that at this cantina.

 

[Glitch Kinthal]

Having been sitting in the bar he watched the woman come in she set the chit down and ordered her drink. Glitch was already sitting drinking and ran his fingers through his hair with his droid arm. he lowered it down and grabbed his drink and waved the tender over and tapped his glass. "Keep it full and put her drinks on my tab somethings not right and she shouldn't blow it on booze." Watching his drink get filled he walked over her way and sat down near her.

"I've seen that look and made that statement before." His voice was soft but it carried to her ears under the thrum of the music. He didn't know her but he knew the feeling she was having it was one he was all to familiar with. He took his drink and sipped at it and just stared at the bar not directly talking to her he was drowning pain himself as there was a void he was feeling and he usually numbed it with booze He hadn't made a single sale since his last business venture. He had also turned down several high credit sales just to sit and drink and forget.

"If you want to talk i'm here and drink free its on me shouldn't waste your credits on drowning pain" He was one to talk as he continued to star at the bar and then took a huge gulp and tapped his glass again.

 

[Evangel]

Evangel sat at the bar nursing a drink. Her helmet was set in front of her on top of the bar leaving her blonde hair and blue eyes visible. Mandalore was... fine, but she could feel the constant discomfort that seeped into her marrow. Between jobs. Inactivity. She yearned for something to destroy. The alcohol wasn't helping at all.

Worse, some guy had claimed a seat nearby and started in on a woman that'd placed a heavy order. Why did a place to drink need to turn into a therapist office? Was the music not enough of a clue? "Talk with your fists. Tends to get the message across clearly enough." Not that Evangel had any idea whatsoever what Aren D'Shade 's issue was, or who Glitch Kinthal was. Didn't matter either. She'd spoken the truth far as she saw it.

At a glance neither person at the bar was the sort she truly wanted to scrap with, so making an excuse wasn't on the cards. Though, on a double take, the man had the look of Echani about him. So if things got really untolerable maybe she could find herself in a great brawl after all.

 

[Aether Verd]

The thrum of music followed him in, pulsing through the cantina as though the very walls kept time with the wild stage outside. Aether stepped past the threshold with his helm resting beneath his arm, dark plates of beskar catching the low light as he made his way toward the bar. Conversation ebbed and flowed around him, laughter carrying through the haze of drink and smoke, yet he seemed entirely unhurried as he crossed the floor.

He found a place at the bar and set his helm upon the counter before rapping twice with his knuckles. “Ti’haar.” he said simply, the barkeep already moving to fill the order.

While he waited, his ears caught the words shared between the others at the bar, one voice weighed down with experience and another dismissive, sharp as a blade’s edge. Aether gave a small nod in their direction when his drink was set before him, then lifted it in silence and took a slow sip. It was not his place to pry, not yet at least, and so he settled into the cantina’s rhythm with helm and drink close at hand.

 

[Cordelia Malkavian]

The smoky haze that flit it's way through the air of the The Raucous Bounty was almost perfect. Light enough to keep from hindering someone's vision, but just thick enough in it's stench to dull most other senses. Add that to the copious amounts of alcohol being consumed in every direction and what Cordelia considered to be a dive bar became the perfect hunting ground. Especially when one considered that most of it's occupants were clad in Beskar. It added a challenge to Delia's coercion, and oh did she delight in rising to it.

The redheaded monster had long since been perched at the bar, her back leaned against it with one ankle crossed over the other, one arm crossed with the other rested against it at the elbow while her exposed hand clutched a glass of some brew she no longer cared to remember the name of. It was only a rouse anyhow, and while Delia could both drink and enjoy the dark colored liquid she was idly swirling in the glass, there was something much more savory that she was waiting to get a taste of.

While she waited for the perfect prey to present itself, voices closest to her at the bar carried over, and an amused hum vibrated her throat. "Not entirely sure that you can beat the broken heart out of someone, but it would certainly make for an excellent outlet and distraction." Her lips curled into a smirk at the thought. A bloodied victor of some ridiculous scuffle could prove to be an interesting challenge, and the taste of prideful arrogance had it's own dash of spice that Delia had not tasted in quite some time.

 

[Aren D'Shade]

"It's not a statement I'm prone to make often. The last time I had a drink like this, I was celebrating. Now I'm mourning something that might never have even been."

Picking up the second drink, she didn't gulp it down like she had the first one, but took a gentle sip. Turning to look at her new drinking companion, she could tell right away that he wasn't entirely organic. However, he had been born that way. Putting the glass down on the bar, he had her attention until another person spoke.

"Teach me how to throw a good punch, and your drinks are on me."

Glancing at the Mandalore as he passed, she tipped her head up to acknowledge his nod. Her focus returned to the cyborg who had offered to talk.

"I don't need you to pay for my mistake. Mine to take care of, Mister."

Lifting her drink, she downed the second in a mouthful. Setting the empty glass down, another was put in front of her. Her current state was still sober, and she wanted to change that. She wanted to forget the future she could have had and make a new one.

"Name's Aren."

Feeling the thud of another drink next to her hand, she wrapped her fingers around it and brought it up for a silent toast, taking a quiet sip. Her eyes found another woman speaker, and she let out an amused huff.

"I'm not much of a challenge and certainly don't provide any sort of distraction."

Which was exactly what she learned on Naboo and why she was here drinking.

Glitch Kinthal Evangel Aether Verd Cordelia Malkavian

 

[Glitch Kinthal]

Glitch was already well buzzed and had been sitting to drink and numb the pain the Mandalor walked by and he simply lifted his glass he was an arms dealer but hadn't even been doing that. as someone was on his mind hearing about needing to learn to throw a good punch he chuckled and looked her over sizing the woman up and nodded she could throw one but he would need to fight her to figure that one out to see what she needed to learn. His droid hand gripped the glass and he downed it quickly setting the glass back down and tapped it again he glanced to her and made a mistake he hadn't done in a long time one that he hadn't even told someone that meant the world to him.

"Names Glitch you want to learn to throw a punch I can teach you that." He chuckled at her statement about not needing to pay for her drinks and turned to face her and looked into her eyes. "You realize I'm paying because I dont care about money I dont care about much right now but if you want to learn to throw a punch that is something I was raised to do as well as wield a sword. You could distract many if you tried but I will say if you wish to distract me you know where I am." He then turned back to his drink that was full again and trailed the robotic digit along the rim of the glass. He gripped the glass and slammed it back again and set the glass back down tapping it.

Whispering to the glass. "being alone is my place in the world." he watched the liquid fill the glass and wondered how many more tell he couldn't teach someone to throw a punch but for now he would work on this drink.

Evangel Aether Verd Cordelia Malkavian Aren D'Shade

 

[Evangel]

What Cordelia Malkavian had to say didn't register with Evangel as much as what Cordelia was. The black-armored Mandalorian leaned forward slightly to look over at the other woman. She was strong in the Force. Just the sort of person she needed at that moment. The itch to drag her outside clawed at her thoughts, but for Aether casually taking a seat nearby. Damn social obligations. Damn honor. Why couldn't she just beg to be attacked and make this easy for them both?

The other woman down on her luck or whatever spoke up. It was a distraction. Not welcome, but enough to delay the itch from driving her mad from inaction. "It's all in the hips." At last, Evangel spared a look at Aren D'Shade . Sure, she didn't have the physique of the galaxy's most muscular warrior, but she'd seen worse. "Torque." Her eyes strayed a back toward Cordelia. "If you need a demonstration, just ask." Calm down, she tried to tell herself, but the allure and temptation was strong from an upbringing and life of struggle.

Of course, Glitch, the Echani, offered to teach her as well. Evangel didn't technically care who did it, but without a suitable distraction Cordelia was looking increasingly tempting. Aether wasn't bad either, but he wasn't shrouded in darkness. In a pinch, he'd do, but there was something special about those that embraced that side of the Force. It wasn't just a tool like most Force-wielding Mandalorians viewed it.

Aether Verd | Aren D'Shade | Cordelia Malkavian | Glitch Kinthal | Mandos​

 

[Andrew Lonek]

The private shuttle cut through Mandalore's low cloud like a blade and settled at the landing pad with the soft, practiced hum of money at work. Andrew Lonek stepped down wearing a suit that looked like it had been tailored in a room that traded in reputations. The coat's lapels caught light and flattered angles people learned to favor; boots were polished to a mirror shine even when the planet's dust threatened to dull them. He left his armor—his heavier iron—secured in the shuttle's private compartment where it waited like a patient sin: ready, lethal, and not part of the evening's first impression.


"C.E.R.A.," he said into the collar of his coat as the transporter began to taxi away, "status."


A calm voice answered in his ear, warm and precise—the machine that kept his margins straight and his mistakes smaller.


:: C.E.R.A.: Flight secure. Route complete. Local security scanning at medium. I have secured a perimeter feed for the Raucous Bounty and patched with municipal channels. Would you like a synth-map of exits and potential choke points? ::


He glanced toward the city's neon horizon, shades on though the night had enough light that most people didn't bother. "Yes. And ping me if anything with a Mod-Sig greater than baseline steps inside a kilometer. Quietly. No alarms unless it's actually necessary."


:: C.E.R.A.: Understood. Passive watch active. Armor retrieval is prepped should you request it. Primary systems nominal. ::


He allowed himself a small, private smile. The ship's cargo hold had a way of making him feel less exposed—an insurance policy he habitually bought. Tonight he wanted the luxury of keeping danger as an optional accessory.


He walked into the Raucous Bounty as if he owned a wing of it. The noise folded around his shoulders; patrons glanced and returned to their drinks. He moved with those tiny practiced cadences of a man who always wanted to be noticed but never obvious about being so. He took the stool three spaces down from Aren without pausing to consider whether it was wise to sit near a woman who had the air of someone trying not to be found. He ordered a Starseeker's Brew in the same clipped tone Aren used—coincidence or intentional echo, the bartender didn't query.


Andrew's eyes—behind those shades—did more work than the casual face he kept on. He scanned the room in the way he always scanned: slow, methodical. Exit points, hanging rigging, security posts, the stage's power cores, every table that could hide a holoprojector or a blade. It was habit, a reflex wired by too many threats and frayed alliances. The feed from C.E.R.A. flowed silently into his lenses, a faint overlay only he could see: heat signatures blurred into the crowd, movement vectors, a watchlist of known faces. He never flaunted the tools; the less people knew about what he could see, the more untroubled they remained.


He kept his coat unbuttoned by design. The silhouette of danger—his armor—stowed away in the shuttle made his evening strategy cleaner: survey in silk, retreat in steel.


His attention snagged on a figure at the bar. Not because she stood out in the montage of bodies—she did not—but because he sensed the shape of a story crouched under her ribs. She drank like someone who'd practiced taking back ownership of herself one gulp at a time, and she carried small calculations in the set of her jaw. He didn't know her name. He didn't know she was Aren D'Shade . He simply catalogued: veteran posture, deliberate movements, nervousness masked with competence. Risk-assessment ticked another box in his head.


For the sake of appearances he toyed with his drink, letting it steam in the dim light. He let the music knock at his shoulders and the crowd press up like a living reef. He watched the stage performers—one wrong sound could flip the room into a panic, and Andrew liked knowing which sound would break a place and which one would merely bruise it.


C.E.R.A.'s whisper came like a thread under the music. :: Passive feed: one flagged individual prox 3 o'clock. Bio-pattern class: Alpha-enforcer. Unknown affiliation. Recommendation: keep distance. ::


He tilted his head fractionally, the smallest acknowledgment of intelligence beyond fashion. "Keep an eye on them," he told the collar. "Notify me if they make any aggressive moves or if comms pick up a bounty manifest."


:: C.E.R.A.: Acknowledged. Monitoring. ::


His fingers tapped a rhythm on the bar—an idle habit that disguised calculation. He let his gaze sweep once more, and the bar's light ssemingly fell on the woman. The corner of his mouth lifted. He'd come here for a survey, but he hadn't minded finding a face that felt like it might pull a story out of his pockets.


He finished the first drink and ordered another, not because the Starseeker's Brew was keeping the ghosts at bay, but because staying had become suddenly interesting. The night stretched out in front of him like a series of doors. He kept his posture affordable and his options expensive.

 

[Vaux Gred]

Vaux sat there, ti'haar in her hand cut with something a bit more fruity. Even the pilot had to admit she'd gotten use to the mix Gred brewers figured out in space. Beside her was a young Mandalorian, their helmet on the bar, and another who wasn't a Mando, but a spacer, and her wingman when push came to shove.

"Serious Hyperlane. You haven't seen much flying yet. Especially since your still flying that factory job of yours. Come on. You have to have some upgrade in mind for your Stinger."

"Could you get off my case about it. You might like your thrown together death trap, but I like knowing what I'm flying. Seriously you spacers have a leaking airlock or something.""Pretty sure your clan's pretty much in the cl...."

"Would you two just shut up and enjoy the shore leave!" Vaux said, though there was a smile on her face. It was kinda nice to be in the blue again. She picked up on a few other conversations. One with... punching possibly about to be involved. Pretty on par. And then there was the guy would just walked in. Could be interesting, but nothing she could really get a read on. Then there was the surprise to her. The Mand'alor. Last time she saw him she was playing spy in a slaver ring. Well... would it be a bad thing if she decided to talk.... Well Mig might want to to kill her, but.... She started getting up. "Kid, if anyone other than you gives him trouble, you have permission to punch them for me." Vaux said before walking a bit closer to Aether, while the young pilot just stared.

"Wait what!?"

"Just roll with it. No one's that stupid when they see the signet on my shoulder anyway, armor or not."

Vaux just shook her head as she heard them, quickly starting to keep her head on a swivel, but relaxing a bit before speaking. "Well, not everyday you see someone like a Mand'alor in a place like this. Guess it's pretty common place to find you though." Honestly this kind of conversation was pretty commonplace back in the fleet. Most ships had their mess, maybe a dedicated bar if they had the room, but it did mean that you saw almost everyone from civvie to the captain. So while it might have been a bit of poking, it was more in good jest than anything.
Andrew Lonek Evangel Glitch Kinthal Aren D'Shade Cordelia Malkavian Aether Verd

 

[Aren D'Shade]

"Good to meet you, Glitch. If I cared for credits, do you think I'd be here spending them getting drunk? You pay for your mistakes, and I'll take care of mine. Are you alone or lonely? There is a difference. You see, right now, I don't think you're exactly alone. The Mandalorians surround you."

Turning her drink on the counter, she took a sip as she gave him the chance to answer. Turning her attention to Evangel, she lifted an eyebrow at the advice.

"As long as it's not punching me."

And that was when Andrew sauntered in. A man who could turn heads and demand attention. He accomplished his mission, and her dark eyes focused on him as she raised her drink to take another sip. The tech he had on him impressed Aren like almost nothing else. He very likely knew about the effect he had on those around him. He certainly moved like he did. Just because he had her attention, that didn't mean she was going to ignore the man next to her entirely.

Focusing on Glitch again, she took a sip and set her drink down. It wasn't empty again, but one more sip would make it that way. He had yet to give her an answer to her question.

When Vaux approached Aether, she didn't pay much attention—noted the arrival of another person into the mix that seemed to be collecting around her.

Andrew Lonek Evangel Glitch Kinthal Cordelia Malkavian Aether Verd Vaux Gred

 

[Glitch Kinthal]

"Have you never been alone in an crowded room?" He asked in response. "But to be more clear I am both lonely and alone. Turns out I'm destined for this life or maybe someone is here to save me." he was to drunk to try be suave but at least he was honest something most arms dealers weren't. He had his secretes everyone did but he never lied directly omission is what he practiced the art of not giving it all leaving out just enough to let others fill in the blanks.

He told small lies usually his name usually his profession but people had ways to get to him he didn't exactly hide but he also didn't stand out or boast and here he was in front of another lovely woman this one seemed to be drinking for the same reasons so he figured might as well see and hope tomorrow is always better.

He stared at the glass and slammed it back again tapping the side and smirked as the tender eyed him before filling it again. "Dont worry i'm not here to fight." He stated to the bartender.

He looked Aren up and down again with his eyes and sighed with a soft smile and turned to her his droid leg now visible he let it scrape across the floor as if he couldn't be bothered to lift it. She reminded him of someone someone who he couldn't quite remember someone that was just a feeling now nothing more couldn't even give them a face.

Looking to the mando talking about throwing punches. "If you can learn to lock your hips and channel your breath you can punch through someone." he stated to her as if it was a matter of fact that this was childs play. In truth for him it was as it had been trained into him from a young age how to fight how to use Echani martial arts how to use a sword. his hand moved down and touched the area a sword would have been but he came without it something he wondered if it was a bad idea. He turned back to the good idea in front of him giving Aren his undivided attention

Andrew Lonek Evangel Aren D'Shade Cordelia Malkavian Aether Verd Vaux Gred

 

[Aether Verd]

The tihaar burned with the familiar clarity of home, and Aether let it linger as the voices beside him played out their tune. Cordelia’s quip carried with it the sharp humor of someone who found sport in sorrow, and the Mand’alor allowed the faintest smile to touch his lips. “You're right. Pain is only a distraction.” he murmured softly for those near enough to hear, his voice calm but firm. “Healing only comes when the sorrow is confronted.” He did not press further, instead letting the thought rest as he raised his glass toward Aren and the one she called Glitch. His nod was deliberate, an acknowledgment of the introductions exchanged between them.

When the black-armored Mandalorian at the bar offered to demonstrate her craft, the low sound of a chuckle rose from him. The helm at his elbow did not hide the way his eyes lingered on her for a moment. “I have no doubt you make throwing punches into an art form.” he said, the remark paired with a faint curve of his lips before he returned to his glass. His vision swept again across the cantina, catching the polished figure who had entered only moments ago. Aether did not dwell, but his peripheral followed the man’s stride while another slow sip of tihaar carried him back into the rhythm of the room.

Then came another soul, words offered with a playful familiarity that earned a quiet laugh from him. He extended an arm in greeting, his grip steady should she take it. “Even a Mand’alor needs to wet his whistle every now and again,” he remarked, his tone light. His gaze inclined toward her as he gestured faintly to the young woman she had motioned to earlier. “Tell me, where have you been flying lately?” The inquiry carried without strain, a question asked as naturally as one might comment on the smoke overhead.

And through it all, the conversation over fists and form threatened to slip into practice. Aether’s gaze flicked toward the barkeep, and he lowered his voice into something akin to a promise. “If they break anything,” he muttered evenly, “I’ll pay for it. Let them have their fun.” He set his helm back upon the counter, the bar’s pulse still steady around him as he drank.

Andrew Lonek Evangel Aren D'Shade Cordelia Malkavian Vaux Gred Glitch Kinthal​

 

[Evangel]

"Is it more lonely to be alone, or to be surrounded by but separated from those like you?" Evangel said to no one in particular as she stared straight ahead and threw back another glass. People saw the Mandalorian. They saw a thing that appeared Human. That made them comfortable; it kept them from fleeing. But Evangel, she knew better; she had to struggle to approach something resembling casual interaction with those that appeared like her.

Then Aren expressed interest with a proviso. Evangel turned her head aside and smirked at the other woman. "It's less impressive if I punch the air."

Glitch then had a few words of his own about punching. Aether joined in quickly, which forestalled a response; long enough to give the Mandalore a studious expression. From what she'd heard, the man had power of his own. It would be a glorious struggle for survival to clash with him, but this wasn't the place for it.

Evangel's attention turned back to Glitch with a snort. "If it were that easy everyone would be wearing beskar'gam. You might at least punch a hole in their ego. Sometimes that's worth more." Or so she was told. Honestly, she was more the literal type when it came to punching holes in people. "Less fun if a single punch kills. Struggle gives you opportunity to grow." Even if she had learned a Force ability or two that could kill many, Evangel didn't like using it as a first resort.

"Do you actually want to learn, or is tonight for drinking?" the blond asked Aren at last. If she was too wasted or going to become too wasted to remember then there wasn't much point to even punching air.

Aren D'Shade | Andrew Lonek | Glitch Kinthal | Cordelia Malkavian | Aether Verd | Vaux Gred​

 

[Vaux Gred]

Vaux smirked a little. So he was paying attention. She thought threw her squadron's most recent missions. She took a sip of her drink, then looked over."The usual. Outer Rim cargo escorts cause pirates don't seem to care when something has weapons. Some sorties against slaver fleets. Launching some track downs off loose info to get some Clean Sweeps were lost in the chaos of the Sith invasions. Might not be pure baradium, but doesn't make them something ever intended to get out without... supervision."
She thought for a moment. That was a big one. But she'd picked up on the whisper, and chuckling a bit. She eyed the others, thinking about everything. The ground under her feet wasn't the worst feeling when it wasn't moving. "Glad to know some things don't change." She said, quickly drinking more before looking over. "But since you asked me, what's the Mand'alor been up to, other than being someone ner tat ("my brother" in Concordian) doesn't want to punch." She'd also notice the ones talking about punching again. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad, or at least fun to watch.

Evangel Aether Verd Glitch Kinthal Aren D'Shade Andrew Lonek Cordelia Malkavian

 

[Andrew Lonek]

His eyes behind the black-out shades lingered on the woman at the bar. Not just because she was striking—though she was—but because of how she carried herself. A subtle, sharp weight in her posture, like she'd been through hell and decided she'd rather drink than talk about it. He liked puzzles, and she looked like one.

He stepped up, boots clicking against the warped planks, letting the noise of the cantina shift around him. He stopped just close enough to be in her orbit, but not so close that it felt like a claim. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke over the low rumble of music and voices.

"Tell me," Andrew said, his tone smooth but edged with curiosity, "how does someone like you end up in a place that reeks of regret?"

The words hung there, not an accusation, not a pick-up line—just an open wound of a question, deliberate, offering her the chance to share or cut him off.

Then his attention flicked to the man beside her. "And you must be Glitch, right?" Andrew extended a hand, the faintest curl of a grin touching his lips. "Andrew Lonek. I figure if we're all sharing this corner of Mandalore tonight, we might as well make the introductions civilized."

He glanced between the two of them, the question still resting with Aren, waiting to see how she would handle it.

Evangel Aren D'Shade Glitch Kinthal Cordelia Malkavian Aether Verd Vaux Gred

 

[Aren D'Shade]

"No, actually. I prefer to be alone or with my droids."

Tossing back another sip of her drink, she let out a slight grimace as the burn hit her throat, and she set the glass down. One more pull on that, and it would be gone.

"Maybe there is, Glitch. There isn't for me."

The purpose of her being here was just that reason. He had told her to go, and she had. Her regret was not fighting for him. He had slipped through her fingers. As she thought that, she made a fist and tapped the side of her hand against the counter.

Turning as Glitch spoke to the lady who had offered her advice on punching, she lifted an eyebrow and then took a sip of her drink. Finishing it off, she set the empty glass down, and another was placed next to it. Finally, she was starting to feel a bit numb. The sensation she was seeking. To fall into a short episode of oblivion and escape her pain for the night.

"How does having anything in the hip help with a punch? I thought that came from the shoulder and arm."

Hearing what the Mand'alor had to say brought a touch of the pain back and a sip of her new drink. What number was she on? She's lost count and doesn't care.

"I don't think I'm going to get the chance to confront the sorrow that brought me here, Mand'alor."

In her own way, she was glad he turned his attention and focus to Vaux. It allowed her to return hers to nursing her drink and having the conversation with Glitch, tipping her head to the side to look at Evengel as she spoke. Lifting her drink, she appreciated the comment as intended.

"Aye, well, a single punch would certainly hurt, and I wouldn't be able to focus on the lesson given. Next time, maybe. I'll have to watch videos or something."

When her question broke through the haze of her mind, she had to think a moment before answering.

"Tonight is for drinking. Tomorrow is for recovering from tonight and then learning how to throw a good punch. I've never been much of a fighter."

Setting the drink down, she made a fist above her heart and pounded it lightly.

"I should fight for this, but that chance is gone, I think."

Leaning forward and turning her head to look at Andrew as he approached and asked how she wound up here, she considered throwing that punch anyway. Instead, she took a breath, let it out, and then had a drink.

"To the man who suggests I regret something, you're right, I do. My regret is not fighting for a relationship that was starting. One that would have changed my life and given me a future better than what I can get on my own. I regret walking away when he told me to leave. My regret is not looking back. Now I gaze into the depths of my drink and regret all the choices I didn't make."

After the amount of drinks she'd had by now, her words might not be as clear as she thought, and she took another sip. You only live once, and right now, she only thought of what might have been.

"Aren D'Shade."

Glitch Kinthal Aether Verd Evangel Vaux Gred Andrew Lonek Cordelia Malkavian

 

[Glitch Kinthal]

Slammed the drink back again as the tender filled the glass again. Glitch Questioned many things about his life how he had let his heart open how he had loved someone who could not love him. He questioned why he had given out his name. nothing mattered anyways he wasn't working and hadn't for months. "You rotate your shoulder and arm forward with more force and use you are and shoulder for reach and direction. This way your whole body is used in one shot." He turned back to his glass and started spinning it wondering if he would be cut off soon.

"I Regret falling in love for someone who could not love me. I Regret losing my family the fact my hair is black the fact I lost an arm and a leg. I Regret not putting forth the effort to protect my heart but Alone will be my life." He then took and slammed the drink again. the tinder came by and filled it again and advised him to slow down. nodding he ran the tip of one of his droid fingers a long the rim not even really feeling it just knowing it was there.

His mind raced and he debated giving up he looked to the man that came over who he had answered a question that wasn't aimed at him for then back to his drink. "Aren if it comes down to it and you cant make it home I will see you get there safe as I am sure half this bar would." He knew his words meant nothing when surrounded by Mandalorian's that protected their own but also respected honorable fights. Glitch touched the cuff on his arm and debated just taking it off and letting things progress naturally. His Mind turned inward and grotesque If anyone could see or hear the view he had of himself at this moment they wouldn't call him anything but a coward.

Aether Verd Evangel Vaux Gred Andrew Lonek Cordelia Malkavian

 

[Evangel]

Evangel slowly stood from her stool and stepped back from the bar. The tall, darkly-clad Mandalorian took a step beyond Glitch toward Aren. "First, never learn combat arts from a video. You'll only get yourself hurt or killed." It wasn't that a video couldn't talk and even demonstrate a move; obviously a good holorecording could do both. The problem was in someone that wasn't observed by a mentor that could point out how they botched a technique. Ingraining bad habits into the body was as bad -- and sometimes worse -- than not learning how to fight at all. "Find someone that can teach you."

"Second, the chance to fight is only gone when you're dead." Of course she knew nothing of the creature that Aren had lost. Perhaps it was for the best. If she was distraught that said she had her doubts. Whatever the case might be, if she wanted to fight then the second-best time to do so was now; the best time had been 'then.'

Evangel glanced at Glitch, and then spared the briefest look at Andrew. She was surrounded by bleeding hearts. It was something she couldn't understand. Like a language that her ears hadn't evolved to comprehend in its complexities and nuance. It was a facet of social life that only reinforced just how isolated she was from others that looked like her -- that appeared Human. Still, Evangel had learned it held value and there were plenty of parallels between physical and emotional combat far as she could see.

Aren D'Shade | Glitch Kinthal | Aether Verd | Vaux Gred | Cordelia Malkavian​