Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Memoirs of a Mando

Ven Munin

Guest

Ven sat back in the co-pilot's seat. Restlessly tapping her boot against the floor as the tip of the ship’s nose broke through a barrier of thick, black cloud. Nar Shaddaa stretched out before them. Illuminated by a thousand yellow lights doing their best to glisten against the torrential rain beating down against the high rises. This was the galaxy’s seedy underground criminal world. Home to smugglers, bounty hunters and thieves alike. It was rare that anyone would consider Nar Shaddaa anything but the run-down hell hole it actually was. But to Ven, just for today, it was hope.

Hope to find some semblance of normality in the topsy turvy mess her world had become. Hope to find familiarity in deeds of the past. It was a bit of a broad stretch to put the entire planet under that specific banner. Really, it had all begun with a message, seen briefly on a console that did not belong to her. From there it was just a quick conversation to convince the group already heading that way to take Ven with them.

Truth be told, it was somewhat of a gamble. Aside from the raid on her clan not half a year ago, the only battle she had seen was practised. Training in her youth, which was always carefully overseen. Spars in her teenage years. More brutal than the last, but still restricted in the sense that nobody was going to die. Their numbers had been too few to risk such a thing. But this was altogether different. Tap out or knock out, as she kept being reminded. Those were the rules. People were betting real credits on it too. Careful and restricted were not going to be part of the program.

The ship pulled up, sweeping low over the tops of the buildings, and then diving down suddenly toward the concrete pavements below. A soft grunt from the pilot, along with the ship grinding to a halt as it levelled out, told Ven they had arrived.

Waiting at the bottom of the landing ramp was an old, abandoned factory. Its great crumbling structure still looked sturdy enough, but Ven could pick out the support beams peeking through the shell. In comparison to the rest of Nar Shaddaa, the building was relatively dark. The only light that seemed to be emanating from it was a dull orange glow seeping from the cracks between a pair of large sliding doors. Ven followed the group through the doors and threw her credits at the Mandalorian sitting idly in a chair just beyond the entrance.

They travelled through another set of sliding doors and down several flights of stairs before reaching the basement. The room itself had been stripped of everything factory related, leaving a bare floor where a slightly elevated stage had been erected. Three stories of balcony wrapped tightly around the walls, littered with crowds of Mandalorians from all creeds and clans. It was hard for Ven to keep her mouth closed, which only made her all the more grateful for the helmet clipped securely onto her head.

“This way.” The pilot grunted again, grasping Ven by the shoulder to lead her toward a table which a second Mandalorian sat behind. There was the sign-up sheet, on a rather busted looking datapad. Every entry gleaming brightly on the flickering blue screen.

Ven signed up immediately.

“Grats.” The Mandalorian said gruffly. “Here’s your lucky guy.” His gloved finger tapped twice against a name halfway down the list.

She gave a quick glance down, fully intending not to care about whoever it was, but something pulled her back instantly. Amber eyes bore into the screen, the harsh blue light reflected back in her visor endlessly. Her lips mouthed each letter, though no sound came from her throat. Collectively, they held a memory so distant that Ven could not be sure it was a memory at all. Perhaps it had been a vivid dream. Whatever it was, or had been, the fact that she could not recall it instantly manifested itself as a source of deeply ingrained frustration. It was as though it danced in the corners of her mind. Tormenting and teasing endlessly as she picked her way through the crowd toward the edge of the area.

When the bell sounded, clean and clear above the din of the crowd, all Ven could think of was the name.

Aito.
 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

Nar Shaddaa. A dumpster that the Hutts loved to hold up as their crowning jewel, however it made Coruscant's undercity look fresh and clean in comparison. However, Nar Shaddaa was perfect place to hide away and organise a dirty fight. Which was the exact reason that Aito was here, he was forced to arrive due to another gambling debt that had been racking up. Bounty hunting business had been slow for the fledging Mando, he was struggling to find work and build up renown so that he could find and earn himself more beskar armour. So far his helmet was all that he had from his previous mentor.

Making his way to the fighting arena, Aito wandered around and spotted the guy he owed a debt to. He gave Aito a sharp nod of his head, it was clear that the guy wanted to win big off of Aito's victories. The fledging Mando had been undefeated in many rings for several years now. He had been a kid the last time he faced someone of equal or better standing than him. Adjusting his dented and well used armour, he looked around and spotted a few veterans of the fighting pits and a few newcomers. There were some in their full armour that he couldn't recognise. He would just have to assess they between his fights.

His non-beskar armour sorted, Aito shined his beskar helm and tightened his top knot to fit inside his helmet. Letting out a sigh, Aito couldn't help but think about all the times he was in this position, in need of money and desperate to get a win. Fighting was the only place he felt himself and safe to let out his aggression, the berserker that was within the Mando warrior. Raising to his full height, he donned his helmet and secured it tightly to his other pieces of armour.

Pointed to where he would be fighting, Aito made his way, standing he waited to see where his opponent might be. Aito fought plenty of people, most he forgotten, there were a few he remembered, some that challenged him the most. There had been a few matches he lost when he was a child but he knew that he had grown much more since then, training under an amazing Mandalorian mentor. Clenching and releasing a fist several times as he spotted his opponent. She was another Mando, but fully in beskar from what he could tell and there was an air of familiarity but he could not place it.

"Greetings. I am Aito. Fight well." Aito gave his common greeting as he entered a fighting stance, ready to begin.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Ven clung to the edge of the arena as a leech clung to flesh. There were more people in this one arena than she had ever seen in her entire life. More beskar in this room than she had ever even dreamed had existed. It would have been overwhelming if she did not have an imminent fight to deal with, but that was all her mind could focus on. That and the name.

The first fight broke out between two towering Mandalorians that could have rivalled the Nar Shaddaa skyline. They fought with such aggression Ven could almost feel every blow they managed to lay. The audience seemed to feel it too. Each heavy fist that landed came with an ooh or an aah, and then a cheer that rumbled the entire room. It vibrated her rib cage and lingered long after the crowd had silenced itself. It only seemed to last a few moments more, with the bigger of the two managing to clock the other one with a firm fist to the jaw. Knock out. The crowd went wild.

Then, suddenly, it was her turn. A large hand had poked her in the small of her back, sending her stumbling two steps at a time toward the stage. Luckily, she recovered herself just as the hoards of Mandalorian watchers turned their gaze onto her. Fortunately for Ven, a distraction from the thousands of eyes and visors was immediately offered up in the form of a voice. It held much the same frustration as the name belonging to it had. Ven’s mind knew she had heard it before, but it joined the name in teasing her on the tip of her tongue. In response to Aito’s greeting, Ven nodded with a purposefully obvious bow of her head. She did not want him to think her rude, but talking to strangers was not in her wheelhouse, even if he did feel vaguely familiar.

Ven brought her fists up into a similar fighting stance to Aito’s. Or at least, it seemed similar. To the trained eye, there were subtle differences. The way she held her feet to keep her steady. The height of her fists. The angle of her hips. Despite being clearly taller than most females, it looked as though she was more than accustomed to fighting people twice her size and larger. Men back home could reach eight feet, maybe more, so Aito was not quite as threatening to Ven as he first appeared.

A quiet had spread over the crowd as they waited for one of the opponents to make their first move. They were soon put out of their misery when Ven made three steps forward, to feign aiming a punch to the left side of Aito’s head. The crowd gasped. It was a bold move. Never wise for the smaller of the two to make the first move like that. However, at the peak of her attack, to which she hoped Aito had put all his effort into defending, Ven spun on the tip of her heel. Instead, aiming a blunt and direct stomp to the back of his knee with her right foot.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

The crowd was large, there were Mandalorians and several other species placing bets and calling out favourites to win in matches. Aito noticed that his opponent was another Mandalorian, female and seemed to be a skilled fighter. Not delicate as many would assume a woman to be. His gaze could note the differences and variances in her stance in comparison to his. Even before his training as a Mandalorian, he learnt plenty as a child fighting many other fighters and learning many different styles of combat. His trainers would force him to face opponents better skilled and more experienced to show him how to fight and how to take a beating. It had been rough but Aito always enjoyed learning and growing from the experiences.

As he stood facing the opponent, he was curious to see what she would do. Whether or not she would initial the fight or wish to test him and see what information he would provide in combat. He wasn't surprised when she came for the first attack, initially he fell for the feint, seeing the attack coming and readying himself to block it solidly, however, something kicked in. A memory, an instinct that override his first judgement. Something said deep inside his mind that this was a feint. That he needed to take a step back to avoid a strike to his knee. He couldn't tell where the memory came from or why he felt such a strong urge to comply but he did. His parried the first strike, letting it glance away harmlessly before he dodged to the side of the oncoming strike.

It seemed that his memory was correct as the strike to the knee came and he was able to shove at the fellow Mandalorian to create some space.

His mind then flashed back to his time as a child. Back when he was less skilled and not the champion of many fighting pits. His trainer pitted him against a Mandalorian, a female, someone that he felt would be an unfair match. His trainer mentioned that Mandalorians trained as children to hone skills in combat and that Aito would be the one at the disadvantage. Aito stood and faced the Mandalorian child, she was shorter and slimmer than he was and he was sure this fight would be very one sided. He had been correct, just not realising that it would be one sided the opposite way than he thought.

As they studied each other in their fighting stances, Aito predicted a strike coming to his side before a stomp came hard down on his knee, causing him to buckle. He was surprised by the other child's ferocious nature and skilled strikes. His knee was in pain and he was having to back up, trying to create space and think about what to do next. Everything he knew about combat was going to be tested by this Mandalorian child, he just needed to find an opening and not let the bloodlust consume him yet.


Why was that fight coming to mind? Was it simply because the initial move was similar? He couldn't dwell on those thoughts, he needed to focus on the fight. Not let himself be lost in memories of a defeat decades ago. Aito advanced on his opponent with his guard kept high, taking on a heavier brawler fighting style in comparison to his opponent. His thoughts were on possibly making it seem like he would be slower but hitting harder, however, he was holding back the speed at which he could truly strike with. He needed this Mandalorian to see him one way but he was going to strike in a completely different style.

As he advanced, Aito let loose two heavy punches before switching things up and going for a jump kick to the head. It was style of fighting he learnt as a child, he rarely fought this way but he needed to win and he needed to do so at any cost.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
One of the many reasons why Ven preferred to attack first was that her opponent always seemed to be surprised by it. Nobody expected the tall, skinny woman to break the ice with a punch that could have rivalled their own. That was what she banked on. That they were so taken aback they forgot to defend themselves. All seemed to be going well. Aito fell for the first swing, and as predicted, blocked it from causing any further harm. A hint of a smile formed on her face, hidden behind the helmet, as her foot cut through the air in what seemed to be a clean blow. But then, suddenly, as her foot fell through a disappointing pocket of air…

A far younger Ven rolled her shoulders to rid herself of the heavy weight that rested eagerly against them. The sound of her father’s voice, gruff and deep, echoed endlessly in her ears. He was excited. Her first real fight against someone that did not belong to part of their clan. They rarely left Zanbar unless they had to, so it had been a long time coming. Ven couldn’t blame him, but the more he spoke in his frantic whispers, the more nervous he made her.

The boy standing in front of her was at least two heads taller than her, and no doubt a few years older too. It almost seemed like an unfair match. Her only saving grace seemed to be that he looked just as nervous as she felt, but as the voice in her ear reminded her, emotions were unreliable. Especially when it came down to a fight.

Stepping forward, she assumed her stance. In front of her, her opponent studied her meticulously, trying to second guess what was about to happen next. Ven stepped forward and swung her fist, but it was merely a distraction. Before the balled-up hand could find any true purchase, she made her real first move. The heavily armoured boot came crashing through the air directly toward the bent knee Aito had left unguarded, and it connected with a rather satisfying crunch. There was a holler somewhere from the crowd, but Ven couldn’t tell if it came from the boy’s trainer or her father. Either way, she ignored it. If she truly was worth her salt as a fighter, she couldn’t let the opportunity the boy presented go to waste.

As he stumbled backwards, attempting desperately to create some room to think, Ven advanced ruthlessly.

This was easier than she had thought. The fight was certainly a little unfair, but maybe on the boy and not on Ven. A second kick was thrown. The lithe frame of her body and the flexible bones in her leg made it fly through the air like a loaded spring. Aimed directly at the centre of his chest, she was hoping to buy herself some more time to do something a little more than stun him briefly. It was the only way she was genuinely going to win.


Back in the arena, her foot landed heavily on top of the wooden stage where Aito had once been. So far in her life, not a single person had managed to avoid her first move feign. It was unpredictable. How had he known? Blocking the first two punches that he threw at her with ease, as though she had expected them, Ven allowed herself to slip comfortably into thought. She was so wrapped up in her own mind that she neglected to see the foot flying at her chest at incredible speeds. Normally she would have been able to avoid the attack without blinking an eye. To everyone else, Aito made his moves so quickly his arms seemed blurred, but to Ven in the heat of the moment, he was slow. Sluggish. Unfortunately for her, the distraction had been enough to knock her off focus.

The boot found its mark in the centre of her chest and felt rather like how Ven imagined being pummelled by a rancor would feel. It stole her breath away almost instantly. Gasping for a breath of fresh air was something that came naturally, but what came next needed focus. Which, somehow, the heavy blow to her chest had managed to achieve.

Before Aito could pull away, Ven wrapped her lengthy fingers tightly around her foot. Despite being shorter than him, and a good hand lighter, they still managed to wrap entirely around the ankle of his boot. Her nails dug into the tips of her gloves desperately in an attempt to keep him in her grasp. If she, by the grace of whatever gods were watching, managed to keep hold of it, it would give her the advantage she needed. The opportunity to place a well-struck headbutt.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

The first strikes were blocked, he would have liked to see them connect but he knew that a trained Mandalorian would be able to block such clear attacks. He was surprised that his kick was able to land so solidly but then he could tell that his opponent seemed more distracted than focused on the current fight. It was frustrating this it could mean that she felt he was not worthy of her full attention. He couldn't deal with that if it was the case, he was adamant that he was a worthy Mandalorian, he had to be to honour his mentor. He was beginning to doubt his ability as a Mandalorian when he felt the woman tightly grip his ankle. It was tight grip that he could get out of if he needed to. But it was also a familiar one somehow.

She wouldn't give him room to breath as the young girl pounced forward and continued her hard attacks. In the distance his trainer called out to stand his ground, learn from the errors Aito made and keep going. Roars of joy from her father called out amongst the ground thirsty for a good fight, even if it might be one sided. Aito watched as she launched a fast kick to his chest, only just able to keep his arms up to block. The power of the kick sent him flying on his back. He landed hard, the air knocked out of him. How could a person so young and skinny land such hard hits?!

Coughing, he pulled himself back onto his feet, readying himself for the fight again. Frustration and anger were building inside the young boy but he wasn't going to give into it yet. He needed to keep calm. That was what his trainer always said, keep calm and focus on the current events. He decided that he couldn't wait for her next attack and needed to go on the offensive himself. Aito charged towards the Mandalorian and aimed a strong front kick back, aiming square at her chest. Hoping that his extra weight would do some good in knocking the wind out of her. He needed to take back control of the fight, lead the fight and not be led, otherwise he might as well surrender now.

What did they give Mandalorian children that made them so skilled in combat in comparison to himself?


Perhaps it was that fight that spirited a strong connection to the Mandalorian that trained him years ago, allowing him to become a foundling in the Mandalorian ways. Aito was surprised when he realised, perhaps a little too late, that the female Mandalorian was going for a headbutt. He was lucky that he was wearing his beskar helm and not something made with weaker metal, otherwise the attack might have ended his life instead of a deafening ding that echoed in the room. His free foot stumbled to find balance and Aito stared forward, his ears were ringing a little but he knew he was in a precarious position. There were a few options left open to him.

He could attempt to snatch his caught leg out of the grip, stumble a little to find his balance but remain on his feet. Allow the other Mandalorian to trip him up and begin dominating him on the ground. Or he could attempt to force her to the ground on his terms and try to win control there. It was a risky move, but there was a fight style on Atrisia that was all about fighting on the ground and controlling an opponent there. Reaching forward he gripped the female Mandalorian and pulled her onto the ground with him as he allowed himself to go into a controlled fall. From there, he would attempt to pin her with an armlock if he got the chance.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Their helmets clanged together loudly, ringing throughout the arena even above the din of the crowd. To Ven, just at that moment, it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world.

She knew it would not do half as much damage as her heart was hoping it would. They were both in possession of helmets. Not just any helmet either. Beskar. Which was, by all accounts, one of the most difficult metals to break in the entire galaxy. So, when her landed blow did nothing more than make him stumble to regain his balance, Ven was hardly disappointed. In fact, she was somewhat relieved. For a moment there it almost seemed as though this brute would get the better of her. For a moment, it almost seemed as though Ven had the upper hand.

She knew what she had to do next. In the time it took for Aito to correct his footing, Ven had stepped forward to attempt the inevitable. To sweep his legs out from under him with no warning, but once more it seemed as though Aito was ready for her. The disappointment flooded in as he regained his balance. Ven was left rather blindsided by it. The only thing that could have made it worse was for panic to set in. It would have to be rather dire for her to allow such an unreliable emotion to dominate her.

Yet, once again, Ven managed to display a somewhat eerie knowledge of Ven’s fighting style. Once again, she was blindsided. Then it was panic’s turn to take the wheel as his hands clamped tightly around her arms to throw her to the floor.

This was too weird. Too familiar. Too spooky.

Once again she had taken him unaware. Though he managed to be quick enough to block the kick partially, she still found her mark. He stumbled back kicking up a cloud of dust as he landed heavily onto the floor.

This time, for some reason, Ven stepped backwards. Perhaps it was the fact that he had fallen or the fact that his face seemed to be turning a funny shade of red, but she felt a little sorry for him. Whoever he was, it was clear that he had not been trained in a similar fashion to other Mandalorian children. Come to think of it, Ven wasn’t even really sure if he was Mandalorian. If he wasn’t, then this really really could not be a fair fight. Either way, backed off enough to give him the space to gather himself.

His cough was like a bell, announcing the start of their fight again. It seemed he was far more prepared this time around because the minute the sound cleared, he charged. Like a rancor. Ven set her feet firmly in the dust as he sped to close the gap, waiting for the inevitable.

Lashing his foot out as Ven had expected, she slid to the side. Barely an inch. Enough to avoid the foot that would have knocked her clean out, but only just. She felt a rush of air against her face zipped past. This was where the boy’s weight gave Ven the advantage. If she found herself in a similar situation, falling face-first into nothing but air, it was easy to snap her slender limbs back into position. Easy to pull her lithe frame where it needed to go. Just in case she happened to be wrong, in case the boy was far lighter on his feet than he seemed, Ven decided to help him on his way.

As he tumbled forward, Ven ducked down and swept her leg low. If he was not fast enough to avoid it, her foot would snap out harshly at his stumbling ankles.


Helpless to do anything but prevent further damage as she fell, Ven succumbed to Aito’s weight. Where any ordinary fighter would have grunted or cried out, she remained oddly silent as her frame smacked into the wooden stage. There was little she could do in this position. One of the disadvantages to being the size she was. His arm was rather like a tree trunk in comparison to hers. As it snaked around her neck, she squirmed wildly. Though nothing she did could even hope to budge it. To everyone in the crowd, it seemed as though panic would win out at any second. Truthfully, it even seemed that way to Ven, who could only attempt it so many before she was forced to tap out. Or before Aito’s arm stole enough oxygen to knock her out entirely.

She needed a different angle on this problem, and fast. What could her fingers reach?

His helmet. Could she do something there? Her fingers scrabbled against his visor, but she could find no purchase. It was only when her fingers fell that the idea came springing to mind. As if someone had flicked a switch, replacing the panic with calm.

It took all of a second to enact her plan. Her fingers were just as swift as the rest of her body. In the blink of an eye, they had found the clips on her helmet to fling them open unceremoniously. She had to act fast. The second it began to slide free of her head, Ven took her chance. The gap it left in Aito’s chokehold was just enough for her to wriggle out of his grasp entirely. A wave of fresh air rushed into her lungs the minute they were free of their constraints. Her feet instinctively put some distance between her and Aito. Her fingers brushed clinging strands of flame-red hair away from her crimson eyes.

While all Ven could think about was how good it felt to breathe again, her body seemed to be preparing to fight again, though her odds were far grimmer now. She had lost her helmet. The one thing most of her creed absolutely prided themselves on being able to keep hold of. She wasn’t entirely useless without it. Or wouldn’t have been, if she wasn’t against someone with a full set. That particular nuance could only mean one thing.

Imminent defeat.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

His tactic worked, she was pulled into the ground with him. His limbs swiftly moved into a tight armlock, attempting to force the woman to tap out in defeat. His gaze focused on the opponent, curious to see if they would tap out or if she would go for something else. And what would that something be? As she reached for his helm, he was thankful that the helm was there so she couldn't attempt to gauge his eyes or scratch up his face. He didn't think he was especially attractive but scratch marks on his face would not be something to improve his look. He watched as she swiftly removed her helm and was able to wriggle her way out of his lock and get back on her feet.

With her helmet off, Aito got a good look at her appearance. She was attractive, red haired with crimson eyes. Aito could feel his cheeks flush, he couldn't think on how he found her attractive, it would be too much of a distraction in such an intense fight. Besides his thoughts of attraction, the red hair was a reminder, the intense crimson eyes were even more of a reminder. That girl, the eyes, they were the same... Weren't they? They couldn't be, it was impossible that it would be the same person... Wasn't it? Perhaps just a racial trait...

His kick didn't work, she was too fast as if she could see into the future and predict his every movement. How was it possible? As he looked directly into her crimson eyes, he felt her sweep his leg and slam him into the ground. The crowd ooo'ed at the impact, they could tell that it was a bad hit. Aito felt the wind knocked out of him once again, he looked up at the ceiling. He could feel the rage build inside him and bubbling past the point of containment. He couldn't handle the defeat anymore, he needed to lash out, he needed to rage. He needed to win.

Jumping back on his feet, Aito's eyes burned with intense anger. Berserker within was released. He charged forward and lashed out with wild, fast and solid hits. The pain, the burning in his lungs were all gone, he couldn't feel them. All he could feel was the desire to rage, to hurt his opponent. While his attacks were less controlled, the power was still there and a single strike normally ended a fight with his Atrisian peers. His trainer was yelling for him to calm down but it fell on deaf ears, the blood pumping in his ears was pushing all other noise out.


He looked at Ven, he couldn't be certain whether it was the same person, so many years had past. But he knew that there was a look of defeat with the loss of her helm, the fight would be very one sided in his favour since he was fully armoured and she wasn't. Where others would have jumped into the next attack, using their advantage to guarantee the victory, Aito unclasped his helmet, the black and dark red helmet dropping next to hers. "Now things are fair." Aito stated in a cool tone, his desire to fight with honour outweighed his desire to win.

He charged forward, his eyes focused forward as he goes for a roundhouse kick that swiftly switches into a hook kick coming from other side from where he first seemed to be attacking. Aito was curious to see how she would react this attack and his decision to even the odds.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Ven had braced herself, expecting an immediate attack after she had freed herself from the headlock. However, when it failed to appear, she allowed her frantic mind to still. Just enough to take in what was happening. At first, she couldn’t quite understand. Aito just seemed to be standing there, unmoving. If it weren’t for the adrenaline rushing through her system, she would have donned it slightly creepy. Only because, despite his face still being covered by his helmet, Ven could swear his eyes were on her. Drinking her in as though she were an oasis in a desert.

Her face crumpled slightly to openly display her confusion as she waited for him to do something. Anything. Yet, when he finally did say something, Ven did not have the ears to hear it. She hardly cared about fair. People, in general, had a tendency to be unfair. Ven had grown to expect it of life. Instead, she found her focus intensely fixed on the face that had been revealed. The familiar features etched were etched with time and experience, but they were familiar all the same.

Just as his name had been.

The sound the crowd made was somewhat satisfying, timed perfectly to the cloud of dust that puffed up around the boy. Once again, Ven retreated. By all rights, she could have finished it there and then. He was down long enough for her to take her victory, and the Mandalorian part of her wanted to, but that wouldn’t have been fair. It wouldn’t have been honourable. She could only hope that he would have done the same for her if their places had been switched.

Up on his feet in an amount of time that surprised even Ven, there was one thing different about the way he came at her now.

He was angry. Like pulling himself up off the floor had dragged him unknowingly through a portal of pure rage. Ven couldn’t hide the flicker of a smirk that pulled her full lips into a gentle curve. Without a shadow of a doubt, when it came to fighting, anger came hand in hand with stupidity, clumsiness, and misplaced confidence. Something that Ven could very much use to her advantage. Something she had been taught to use to her advantage.

Though he was far faster with rage fuelling his movements, Ven still managed to dodge every single one. The anger made him predictable. He didn’t care about trying to trick her or confuse her. All he cared about was landing a hit. Ven was all too happy to deny him that pleasure, and all too happy to show him the error of his ways.

As he swung and missed for what felt like the hundredth time, Ven stepped forward and made her move. In the time it had taken him to throw his next punch, her elbow came slicing through the air toward his temple at a deadly speed.


“You…” The singular word finally slipped from her throat in response, unwilling and unwanted.

Ven clasped a hand over her lips instinctually. She could barely count the people on the first floor, never mind all the rest. It was one thing to speak in front of a singular stranger, another thing entirely to do it before a crowd of hundreds.

The sudden rush of Aito as he charged forward shocked her into gear. She could pay repentance for her slip up later. Who knew how much it would take to gain forgiveness for that. But she wouldn’t even be able to begin if she kept losing herself. It was now or never. She needed to get her head back in the game. Starting with concentrating on the mountain of muscle heading straight in her direction.

She had expected the first kick. It came swinging round in a huge circle, which Ven easily slipped free of. What she hadn’t predicted was the second kick from the opposite direction. The very same direction she had just moved in to avoid the first. Taken completely off guard, it caught her squarely in the side of her ribs. Though she was still covered shoulder to toe in a thick layer of beskar, she could still feel the impact rattling her ribcage painfully. A sharp gasp of surprise escaped her lips as the floor rushed up to meet her face, but she caught herself with her hands just in time to prevent any serious damage.

Despite having managed to pull herself up relatively quickly, Ven could feel the effects of everything Aito had managed to do so far. She was sweaty, aching all over, and tired. Pulling her hands up into a defensive position, she did her best to make it look like she was fine, but it was written all over her expression. She wasn’t going to last much longer.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

The singular word reached his ears, he knew that she was horrified that she uttered a single word during this whole fight. It made sense, the single word that she uttered said that she knew him, likely for the same reason he knew her, that fight, the one that he had been remembering this whole time. She had been the opponent back then, the one who defeated him so easily all those years ago. She never uttered a word back then, just used her skills to show him how outclassed he had been by a small Mandalorian child. Aito was shocked that he would find her here, all these years later, he didn't know why she was here or what brought her to this hellhole but he was sure to demonstrate that he was not the wild, inferior child that he had been last time they fought. That his skills had grown and that he was an equal now as a Mandalorian himself.

The sweat dripped from his forehead onto the ground, his kick landed successfully and he was see that she was tired, and possibly unable to continue for much longer. Constantly being in fighting pits and death matches, Aito had a great stamina for matches like this, though it had been a long time since he faced a competitor at Ven's level. His panting showed that even he was getting close to his end in this fight. He raised his fists and let out a long, slow breath. Calming his thoughts, he could feel his mind flash back once more to the duel decades ago.

His fists flew faster and harder as the Mandalorian girl continued to dodge every single attack. He had never met a person who could defeat him when he was in his bloodlust rage, but she was just too skilled and this just fuelled his anger more. Driving him crazier as he was desperate just to land a single blow on Ven. However, she danced around and he could swear that she was laughing at him as he howled in anger. His trainer had long given up his shouts for Aito to calm down. It was clear to everyone but Aito that this fight was over.

Eventually, Ven went in for the attack, a simple dodge and a sharp elbow came for his temple. Aito was unable to stop it and the blow hit hard, before he even hit the floor his vision sharply went to black. By the time Aito came to, he was laid down next to his trainer who was looking at him with great disappointment. "You fool! You let your rage blind you and instantly lost the fight! If you ever want to compete as a half decent fighter then you need to improve control over your emotions!" The trainer continued to rant hard and loud as Aito. But he only shifted himself to look over to the Mandalorian and the man who brought her here. He was making sure he never forgot the face of the person who beat him in such a one sided manner.


He moved forward slowly, bobbing slightly as he kept his guard up high. There didn't need to be words exchanged between them since it was clear that Aito wanted to finish this, to hopefully win this match. His first couple of jabs were easy to predict, he wanted to lull her in, see if she would attempt the same finishing strike to his head that she did last time. If she did then he knew that he would be able to counter and deliver a hard blow to her chin with the aim to knock her out. It was a risk since he couldn't ensure that she would go for the same finishing blow, but it was a strategy that he wanted to try out.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Ven had come here for a slice of familiar past in a crazy and unpredictable future. What she had not expected, not in the slightest, was a literal reminder. An actual, tangible piece of the life she once lived. To say that it was throwing her off would have been an understatement.

Aito was far from the angry little boy she had met all those years back. Far from the type to make the same mistakes over and over again until it got the better of him. He was quick, calm, and focused. Everything that Ven currently was not. She most certainly could attribute that to the fact that she had not expected to find him here. Or anywhere. He was such a distant memory she had not even been sure he was one to begin with. Seeing his face threw her back to that day, to all the things she had no idea she would miss so sorely in the future…

Aito hit the floor with such a resounding thud that Ven genuinely thought she had killed him for a moment. The crowd could have very well been screaming, but Ven could hear nothing save the blood rushing through her ears. She took a ginger step toward the crumpled heap of boy that lay still on the floor and watched him with piercing crimson eyes.

It was only when he drew in a ragged breath that Ven allowed herself to relax.

The roar of the crowd flooded in, and before she knew it, she had been joined by her father in the centre of the fighting ring. Her sire rewarded her with muted whoops of joy and looks of pride cast smugly to the others in their clan. As a thunder of back pats and congratulations poured in from all sides, Ven cast her gaze down to the boy. Hovering over his form was his trainer, spitting at him in a fit of rage that could have rivalled his student’s, but Ven was not listening to that.

Tilting her head to level her gaze to his, Ven gave him a smile. It was not unkind. Nor was it meant to gloat. It was sympathetic and encouraging. A silent “you will get better”. Ven remembered her days of lying face first in the dust all too well. Embarrassing though it was, each loss had been a lesson, and this was a lesson that Aito would not soon forget.


Trying her best to focus on the bobbing form of Aito, Ven steadied her defence. There was no doubting that he had indeed learned from the last time they fought. His prediction of her first feign made sense now, which made Ven feel slightly better but not by much. It was clear from the determination written in his face that this was not going to be as one-sided as it had been the first time. Or rather, it was. Just not in Ven’s favour.

She blocked the first jabs, but rather slower than she had done before. The lull worked perfectly, and Ven took the bait. Swinging her right elbow through the air toward his head, there was no doubt about the look of surprise on her face when it was blocked. Why she had attempted to do what she had done all those years ago would be something Ven questioned for the rest of her life. She would blame it on being distracted, reason that it was a kindness for the last time they had fought, but the truth of it was Aito had gotten much, much better. Back in the present, the only thing on her mind was the rattle of her jaw as Aito delivered his final blow. The world went black for the split second it took for her to hit the floor.

The crowd was silent as she pulled herself up on the palms of her hands, elbows shaking wildly from her weight. It seemed, for a moment, that she would rise again… but the deafening sound of her hand smacking hard against the wood caused the crowd to roar.

Aito had won.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

The battle was going differently, he was clearly dominating the match this time around. It would have been all too easy to get overconfident and make a mistake that would cause the tide to swiftly turn, however, his experience kept him chill and focused on the win. It was only after that he could think about his opponent and even try to talk to her. As his attack worked, Aito knew the fight would be over, if this was a bare knuckle hit then there was a chance that Ven could survive the hit but with it being an armoured fist, there was just no way to keep conscious after such a hard hit. Aito was impressed in how long that Ven remained awake before she passed out. The crowd cheering fell on deaf ears for the Mandalorian, he never cared about being celebrated as the victor.

He put his helmet back on and slid the helmet back on Ven before lifting her up in his arms and carrying her to the medical area. There were already a number of fighters getting treated for injuries and such, he placed her gently on a bed. It was not unusual for him to carry his opponents to the medical facilities after matches, he felt that it was the right thing to do and always hoped if someone defeated him some day that they would be honourable and do the same thing. He sat at the bedside, his gaze looking into the distance as he thought back to the fight decades ago. He was certain that this was the same person, she even seemed to recognise him, but he wasn't sure why she was here. Surely a person skilled as she was would be somewhere better, somewhere more respectable, he was curious what brought her here.

He noticed her being led off, her father and entire clan celebrating her victory. All he had was his trainer, angrily shouting at him as he was paying no attention to the man. His parents despised his fighting, they feared the bloodlust, the anger that laid within the young boy. Young Aito noted that she seemed to gesture that he would get better and wasn't pitying him, that was something. That was nice. He sighed as he looked away and thought about the fight and how she moved, it just seemed impossibly fast and precise. He needed to learn how to do that, how to fight better and stronger. He was already thinking that his trainer was beneath his skill level and that he needed to find someone else to help him improve. He needed help to grow not be shouted and lectured at.

Looking back, he realised that the Mandalorian girl was gone. He didn't even catch her name, perhaps if he meets her again. Then again, what were the chances that a Mandalorian would be here on Atrisia for a fight again?


Aito knew that he would remain here till she woke, till he learned of her name and perhaps enjoyed a conversation with someone that changed the course of his life. He went on to learn from a new trainer and that eventually led to him learning from a Mandalorian and becoming one. He was curious to see the path that life took her after that fight.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
The world was silent as Ven unwillingly succumbed to the comforting darkness behind her eyelids. Even though, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the crowd would be screaming. She knew the announcer would be calling the next combatants to the arena. She knew the bell would be chiming to signal their beginning, but there was nothing but silence.

It felt like forever before everything faded in again, but in reality, only a few moments had passed. Moments enough for Aito to sweep her from the floor, and moments enough for the medical team to start making a fuss over her. Sound flooded in first. Although it was highly muffled, she could make out the commotion as the fighters threw their punches. This was followed by light. Gloomy, orange-tinted, miserable light. Ven groaned, albeit quietly, and lifted her hand to block out the streams that forced their way through her now partially closed lids.

The throbbing in her head was tripled as a firm finger pressed against her temple. This was quickly chased by a muted voice that asked if it had hurt. Ven shook her head and swiped the hand away from her head before it could cause more damage. The voice tutted, but Ven did hear the distinctive sound of footsteps amidst the clamour.

It took her a few seconds to actually will her eyes open. When they did the space around her was a hazy blur until she blinked firmly a few times to clear the daze. That was when Aito finally focused in, and when Ven’s face fell into another confused expression. She sat up slightly, which made the confusion instantly melt into pain, but she persisted regardless. Just enough to make it obvious that she was awake and that she was staring directly at him. Tilting her head, her intense scarlet gaze seemed to ask one thing of him.

Why are you here?

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

Medics had removed the helmet that Aito put on Ven to examine her and start doing their work. He sat and watched as Ven slept, thoughts rolled through his mind. He was curious if the fight really was a victory on his part or if the fact he had been her opponent threw her through a loop and meant that she didn't fight with all the skill that she had. Aito sighed, he hoped that she would have given it her all even it she had been caught off guard, it was what he had done but then he didn't know if she was accustomed to fighting fits and getting into matches with rivals that you might not have seen in a long time.

Stretching his limbs, he noticed that there seemed to be some life in Ven as she shifted around. He was glad that she recovered so quickly, showed that she had been resilient. As she shifted up, he offered assistance since Aito knew how it felt to be knocked out and the heavy head sensation. "Take it easy, your head took a big hit so might be some time till you start feeling completely normal again." Aito explained as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder then pulled away as he could see her staring directly at him with an intense gaze in her red eyes. He shifted a little uncomfortable, glad that his helmet hid his expression since he was confused and unsure why she was staring. Was she just very, very interested in him? Wouldn't be terrible, just odd way to express that.

"So... Do I say something? Or are you going to say something?" Aito asked since the silence was getting uncomfortable for him, then it struck him odd that she hadn't asked him anything, she said something during the fight but then she did seem angry with herself for saying even that word. He hadn't been sure if it was anger towards him or towards herself during the fight but on reflection, it might have been about herself and saying the word. "Ummmm... So... You have grown since last we met. More beautiful too..." Aito then groaned loudly, why did he say that line, he had read somewhere on a pick-up site that it was a good line for former crushes that you hadn't seen in years. Saying it out loud, Aito realised it was a terrible line and had instant regret.

"What brings you out to Nar Shaddaa? I came for the fighting match, paying off a debt." Aito explained as he sat back in his chair.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Scoffing softly at his advice to “take it easy”, Ven was hesitant to accept the help he offered. But, in the end, she had little choice in the matter. Her gaze shifted, if only to glance briefly at the hand he placed on her shoulder. It did not make her feel uncomfortable, but it did hurt. One of her fire red brows rose sceptically as her stare returned to its original place.

In answer to his rather awkwardly asked question, Ven looked around at the other people in the area set aside for the med-bay. She had already slipped up once today, in front of more people than she had the mind to count. Granted, it could not have gotten much worse than that, so she could hardly be punished more for speaking now. But Ven didn’t fancy testing out divine justice anymore than she already had. Instead of speaking she swung her legs very carefully off the edge of the bed. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest at the movement.

Ven did not allow this to show on her face. It would only entice more help, and she wanted to leave.

When Aito spoke again, just as she pressed her boots to the floor, Ven made the first obvious noise since her outburst in the arena. She tutted and shook her head so obviously that waves of wild crimson hair tumbled across her shoulders. Then she stood, taking a moment or two to test the weight on her feet before she relinquished the support of the bed behind her. Without a word, she motioned for Aito to follow her and set off through the throngs of people.

Out there, she rationalised to herself, she could talk to Aito. He was a memory from a past that she would likely soon forget. A living reminder of the way life used to be. If she could call anyone close it would probably be him. Even though it was a bit of a far stretch considering she hadn’t known his name up until an hour ago, but still. He was the only thing she had left.

Ven climbed back up the stairs and walked straight past the armoured man sitting watch. She practically squeezed herself through the sliding double doors. The night air, which could hardly be considered fresh, hit her like a ton of bricks. In all the adrenaline, Ven hadn’t realised just how stifling the arena had really been. She took a few grateful gasps that tasted like engine fuel and alcohol instead of sweat and blood. Waiting until the sound of the doors clicking shut finally reached her ear, Ven exhaled loudly.

"You got better.” A silky voice complimented.

Her volume was barely a whisper, as though she were timid about the very act of producing the words, but Aito would be able to hear it clearly. Her basic was perfect, despite it being ladened with a heavy accent that made her tone dance playfully like the string section of an orchestra.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

She wasn't impressed with his offer for help, typical of Mandalorian women to prove themselves as tough as the men, in some ways Aito thought of them tougher, he could only respect Ven's decisions. He could tell there was a slight wince in pain of his hand on her shoulder but she seemed comfortable with his touch which was nice. Her refusal to talk was interesting, Aito hadn't met a race that couldn't talk, at least not one that would not offer any verbal communication, some were telepathic or used the magic powers of Sith and Jedi.

The tut at his very clearly failed attempt at some kind of flirtatious banter only made Aito feel more foolish. Clearly he needed to find better ways to flirt, or at least offer compliments. He watched as she started to move around, clearly the inability to talk was a decision since she was attempting to shift and leave the medical area. Aito would normally chastise, insist and even force a person to remain on their bed until a professional allowed them to move. Especially after such a tough fight, Aito knew better than to force a Mandalorian to take it easy, his old mentor would beat him up if he tried to keep the old man still when he was ready to move.

Medical professionals attempted to reach Ven but Aito stood in their way and shook his head, he was following her as she parted the way through the crowds of people. Aito reassured the medics that he would keep an eye on Ven in case she fell ill or showed need of help. He then moved on and followed her lead outside of the fighting arena. Aito stepped outside and looked around, he still had his helmet on so the air was filtered for him but he could see that Ven was enjoying the more pleasant outdoor air compared to the inside.

He waited patiently, she seemed cautious about talking, and it was now clear that she did not want to talk in front of others. There must be a reason she felt comfortable around him to do so but he wasn't sure, he hadn't known her that well. One fight years ago and then this fight, it wasn't like either of them were Echani, at least he was assuming she was not some kind of Echani so the fighting wasn't some sort of intimate experience. However, whatever reason it was, he was glad that she felt comfortable to talk. Her voice was lovely and suited her appearance very well.

"I... Yes." Nerves were getting to Aito, he was never much of a talker himself. "Fighting has been something I have done all my life. Considered one of the best now, at least some say." He knew that there were better, he needed to fight Force Users and win if he wanted to be considered the real best. "What brings you here? Fighter like you could be in much better establishments..."​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
This time, Ven almost seemed to be refusing to look at Aito as he spoke. She went to seemingly awkward lengths to keep her back to him.

At first, to answer his question, Ven released a stifled sigh. It was full of hesitation and uncertainty. It wasn’t that she couldn’t trust him with her story. There wasn’t much to it in all honesty, but it would be the first time she said it out loud. To someone who hadn’t been there to witness it. To fill the awkward silence Ven rolled her shoulder to test the muscle. Something crunched grimly inside the socket, but she ignored it. Though the pain happened to be good motivation to finally speak.

“I’m not surprised.” She said, as a comment on his improvement. “You were good even then. You just didn’t know it yet. Too much anger and too little focus. You were controlled by your emotions.” Leaning back against the nearest wall, Ven shuffled a little until she was comfortable. The memories of that day were clearer than ever now.

“I’m here to remember. You weren’t exactly the literal kind I was searching for but it did the job.” Came her response to his question, though it was all she seemed to be willing to say on the subject. "I haven't fought like that for a long time..." Pausing suddenly as if she had just caught on to something, Ven finally turned to look at him.

“Debt?” She quizzed lightly with a cocked brow.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

He wasn't certain but he could see her arm move somewhat oddly, perhaps there was something wrong but he wasn't skilled enough to figure out how to help Ven sort her shoulder out so that she could feel more comfortable. When she eventually spoke, Aito was surprised with how complimentary that she was to his fighting skills. He never thought his fighting abilities were that impressive when he was a child. His hindsight meant that he grew more and more critical of his earlier fighting style. He thought that he was lucky to get as skilled as he was now, not that he had potential even as a child. It was nice to hear that he had talent as a child from the one who was the first to beat him.

"Thank you for the compliment. I never thought that back then I had much skill, just rage and strength launched at a target." Aito stated as he smiled behind his helmet, "after our match, I went and sought out a new trainer. It was tough to leave my old trainer behind but the new one taught me how to hone my temper and gave me a drive I never had before." Aito explained as he leaned against a wall and looked up to the night sky. He would see stars but the light population of Nar Shaddaa blocked all attempts to see the larger galaxy.

"Well, hopefully I can continue to help you if you need a hand." Aito offered as he looked over to the scarlet haired woman, "it has been a long time since I last fought that tense as well. I am grateful for such a match. Perhaps someday we can do a rematch." Aito suggested, a little hopeful to see how they might stand at a later point. Then she mentioned his debt, it had been a throwaway mention moments before and now he had to explain it.

"Oh... Yeah," Aito blushed bright red underneath his helmet, ashamed to admit his debt issues, "I owed someone some credits. Bounty hunting was not paying me well this point so needed to find another way to earn the credits so winning matches is always a solid way to earn cash." Aito explained quickly, hoping that things would be moved on from the current topic.​
 

Ven Munin

Guest
Ven was largely unresponsive to his words and merely nodded in recognition. It seemed strange to hear about his life after the fight. In truth, Ven had not thought much on him since their ship had departed from that planet. But by all accounts, and the one she was hearing now was most reliable, Aito seemed to have done fairly well for himself. Minus the debt, of course…

When he spoke next, Ven shrugged. There weren’t many that could help her now and the people who could happened to all be lying in ash and ruins back on Zanbar. As he dove further into conversation, Ven realised that he wasn’t talking about helping her in general. He was talking about fighting. Once again, she produced a shrug, obvious enough for Aito to see.

“I don’t need a hand, but the practice is good.” Her thick accent cooed gently. “Besides, I’m not sure when I’ll get back to this sector of the galaxy. I didn’t do much travelling back then, even less now.”

As she spoke, she reached down to the top of her belt and pulled from one of the pockets a packet of ciagarras. She found herself rather thankful she did as Aito began to answer her final question. The one about debt. It had been an awkward thing to ask, and it was even more awkward listening to the answer. Fiddling with the flimsy paper ciagarra packet and gave her something to focus her mind on. Pressing the tip between her teeth, she sparked the end with a small ball of fire produced in the centre of her hand. Then she offered the packet out to Aito.

“So.” She said as she took the first eager draw of acrid smoke. “You borrow money from others.” It wasn’t meant to sound offensive, but her tone of voice was a little harsh. “Why would you do that?”

The idea of owing someone like that made Ven feel sick to her stomach. Despite the fact that it wasn’t her debt, she felt suddenly and keenly aware of the area around them. Nar Shaadaar was home to a variety of vagabonds and thieves and loan sharks. There was every chance that someone was watching them from the shadowy alleyway just opposite the factory. There was every chance a thousand pairs of eyes were peering at them through the cracked windows in the buildings surrounding them.

It made her feel very nervous.

 

Aito Vautah

Guest
Tag: Ven Munin

Aito watched Ven as she mentioned not needing a hand, he could respect that and he just politely bowed his head to her. If she didn't want or need his help in her wish to remember the past or relive it then he had to respect that since it would be what he would expect if he ever felt the call to relive his past. "Aye, this area isn't the nicest of places. I tend to just be travelling around, can't seem to find anywhere to call home. Can be tough for a Mandalorian without a clan it seems." He confessed, there was a hint of his feelings of being alone, isolated from other Mandalorians but he didn't want to linger on those feelings long.

As Ven pulled out her ciagarras, Aito removed his helmet and shook his head with a smile. He pulled out a pack of deathsticks from his belt pocket and started smoking one of those. He might have tried to smoked something stronger, but he wasn't sure where Ven stood with spice and he wasn't in the mood to be judged for the decision to take things that calmed his thoughts and settled his mind. He inhaled deeply and slowly released the smoke, watching the trails float away in the night sky.

Hearing Ven ask about why would someone borrow money, Aito could only chuckle. Only someone coming from a privileged lifestyle could ask that kind of question, most people in the galaxy had to borrow money at one point or another to survive, whether it was to fund a roof over your head or if it was simply to ensure you can play one more game of sabaac. Aito smiled politely, not taking offense to the question, "Some people borrow money to survive, places like Nar Shaddaa can be hard living." Gesturing to their surroundings.

"However, my debt was more foolish. I was playing in a hot streak and I just need funding for a final big win. I thought I had a hand that was a guaranteed win but I lost big and couldn't afford to pay back the investor." Aito stated honestly, he was ashamed that failed but he wasn't going to deny his flaws, "since work has been minimal and slow for me so I needed a way to earn money and pay back what I owed. Fighting pits can offer that, especially fighting full beskar Mandalorians." Aito then shrugged himself, taking a long drag from his smoke.

"Did you want to go somewhere private? I have my own place that I rented." Aito offered as he could see she was nervous in the surroundings, the cheers from the arena were still loud enough to hear from where they were.​
 

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