Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Race Day (Open Bantha Racing Festivities)

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
PHU​
FRINGE CONFEDERATION​

The Boonta Eve Podrace was, in more than a few places, a sacred tradition. Phu didn't take much seriously, but when it came to, say, racing, all manner of joy resulted. And yet Phu didn't just value podracing. Time-honored tradition, and a deep desire to tweak the collective noses of the Dim-U Monks, venerated bantha racing.

The festivities were grand, colorful, expensive. A well-known bazaar formed around the arena stands, a bazaar where anything -- absolutely anything -- was for sale. Excitement and tension filled the air, mingling with odd spices, motor oil and worse smells.

Bantha racers of every description crowded the starting line. Their prize banthas, bred and groomed for this, waited in tense anticipation.

Ashin Cardé Varanin sat astride a noble bantha. The Force flowed through her.

She was ready.
 
That bantha next to @[member="Ashin Varanin"]

He sat like a lemon on his decorated bantha with pink streamers eying his neighbor. An old friend of sorts, back for as long as he could remember. They both were apprentices in the old Sith Order under the same master. After a short reunion, they placed their bets and agreed to some unorthodox terms before the race was to begin. He kept his gaze on her briefly before looking forward again in a ridiculous outfit.

"I can't believe you convinced me into doing this."

His bantha snorted and shuffled in place; he quickly braced himself from falling off balance. Clearly, this was not his comfort zone.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
@[member="Darth Iscariot"]

There would come a time, hopefully far in the future, when she would have to stand between Iscariot and some objective. In the meantime, his defeat by bantha would have to suffice for the cheerleaders of justice and equity.

The bantha shifted beneath her, and Ashin adjusted her thighs' grip on the saddle, altering her weight distribution. She gripped the reins hard enough to turn her knuckles white. High overhead, an immense holoclock began counting down from thirty. The crowd chanted along, rising to a crescendo. "I know why you said yes, Iscariot."
 

Sprockette

Guest
S
On a flashy bantha with braids and blue beads

The racmeer grinned ecstatically on her prissy bantha she purchased from a local nerf herder. She wore goggles to protect her eyes and protective gear on her elbows and knees. What a grand race this was to be. It also provided some time off from her side jobs trying to help uproot her father's business. To her right she could see the two other racers. One woman and the other with a man dressed as a drag queen. Interesting, she thought. Quite the crowd around these parts. She snickered to herself as she looked over his bantha with pink decorations and streamers.

She turned to the clock and it started to countdown. The crowd began to cheer on the racers at the starting line. Sprockette rose her small fist egging on the audience. The crowd goes wild as the remaining second came closer and closer.

"WwwwwOooooooooOooooOooooo!"

She hopped up and down on her bantha all spastic.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Darth Iscariot"]
 
Holding on for dear life

He narrowed his eyes and grunted to @[member="Ashin Varanin"] response. He clocked continued to tick. The closer it came to the end the tighter his grip was on the reins. Meanwhile to his left was some small rodent jumping around like a maniac on her own bantha. He shook his head not with disappointment but with envy of the little runt. She seemed quite carefree about the whole thing opposed to him. It was quite embarrassing really. To think, a Sith master was bested by a midget on a bantha. He had seen better days. Now there was five seconds on the countdown... four...three...two...one. A single bead of sweat came down from his flamboyant mask.

BOOM!

And they were off.

@[member="Sprockette"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
@[member="Darth Iscariot"] didn't rise to the bait, and Ashin suppressed a smile that still held a touch of its old edge. The starting gun's gut-shuddering roar shuddered her gut, and she kicked her bantha into forward motion.

A prime, powerful young adult bantha could hit speeds upwards of thirty miles an hour. A plume of dust rose from the noble creature's footfalls, as muscled legs the size of Iscariot's ego powered the bantha forward. Ashin clung to the reins for dear life, urging her bantha on through the Force, giving it clarity of mind. Less skilled banthas had been known to wander off after tasty-looking tumbleweeds, but her choice of bantha had been superior -- even without her guidance, it remained intent on the distant finish line, its great torso and hindquarters working tirelessly as it sought maximum speed.
 
Kiskla didn't feel any sort of trepidation being in Fringe territory. Well, more realistically, she didn't feel any trepidation being in any territory. It's not that she was disrespectful, she was just..well; reality wasn't really a thing. But, she hadn't really heard anything from The Fringe since aiding in their elections. Except for the Treaty of Telos, which went better than the Republic deserved. She hoped that was enough for those who had more weight in political influence than herself, recognized that.

But! That was only part of the reason she was found sitting perched on a furry mammal. The other parts? No idea. Who cared. She was here now, and slightly uncomfortable. She was doing her best to connect with the creature, but it was no RZ1 A-Wing that she was so familiar with. In fact, she could hear this thing's stomach more than any engine ever created! Nervously, she glanced about at the other competitors and recognized..none. Oh, one! She recognized @[member="Ashin Varanin"], but not before she and her elephantine creature were kicking up dust. And so were the other contestants, which meant she and 'ol ... 'ol...bantha had to get moving.

"What's your name..?" Kiskla whispered, leaning forward and nervously running her fingers through it's matted hair as if trying to befriend the bantha. Typically, she didn't receive a response. It also didn't respond to her heels knocking it's sides, insisting that it move forward. "Oh come on.." the blonde girl murmured, shifting her weight in agitation with a thrust of her hips against the saddle, urging to beast to get moving and forget about it's desire to lunch. Had nobody maintained this guy? Her light eyes above the sash that covered her lower mouth (to prevent inhaling too much dust) tracked the rest of the racers. They were accelerating quickly.

"Hey, hey, you see that? Your friends are way faster than you. You should really get going." She pat between it's horns, thinking about how to motivate it without having to penetrate it's mind. But she felt like it didn't speak basic.

From the sidelines, there were a few chuckles. Kiskla sniffed irritably.

"They're going to get lunch before you. At this rate, there'll be no award food left when you get to the finish line." Along with this pep talk, Kiskla reached to the non-sentient's mind and projected an idea that it would starve if it didn't move. And that there were delicious morsels waiting at the finish line. That somehow, seemed to inspire the creature. It's long tongue snapped from it's mouth and at the hand of the Jedi that was petting it. She yipped in surprise and recoiled, just as the massive, hairy creature rumbled forward. Her body shook and quivered, and she scrambled to hold on and re-centre her balance.

@[member="Darth Iscariot"] | @Sprockette
 

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