Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Rush

Del woke up just enough to register that he was getting out of bed.

She murmured something that might have been, "Bakery on the corner makes good *mumble*" or "Snakery in the larder eats good *mumble*." It wasn't entirely clear which, because it honestly sounded more like the second than the first.

At which point she rolled over, pulled the cover over her head, and promptly fell back asleep.

[member="Walker Ducarte"] would find caf, as well as a press to make it, in one of the kitchen cabinets. In the process of looking, it would become abundantly clear that beyond what was needed to boil water, Del didn't cook. At all. There wasn't even a frying pan in the entire place. Sure there was food, but it was all stuff that stored well and a pull of a string heated whatever was in the single serving package. There was also no hard alcohol, but a pair of beers sat in the fridge with only some condiments for company.
 
With some exertion Walker managed to push the door open to her bedroom again.

It was about half an hour later and the smell of coffee poured itself into the room in his wake. Followed closely by the fragrance of croissants and apple pie, because Walk loved apple pie and didn't give a damn that it was still vaguely morning. He carefully put the breakfast stand on the counter next to his side of the bed, before moving to the window. Fairly warm already it seemed a good idea to open the window for a while.

A brief exertion and there it went, small breeze lifting in with the tide of the ocean.

"I know you want to lazy about, Del, but I got us some breakfast." It did look beautiful though. A very pretty view outside and that took his attention for a moment.

Perfect place to relax for a while.

Especially when murdering thugs were after you.
 
"I'd accuse you of being a morning person," muttered the bump beneath the comforter, "But it's past noon, and you went to the bakery so I can forgive a lot."

She rolled out of bed, dark curls in disarray, tank top and shorts askew, and padded off to the 'fresher without another word. She reappeared a minute later, still drowsy and just as disheveled, and plopped back onto the edge of the bed before accepting the cup of steaming caf from him. An appreciative murmur left her lips a moment before she took a sip.

"Oh, don't sweat it, you can sit on the bed with that," she commented a moment later as he was working to maneuver the side table into a good position to talk and eat. "Sheets can get washed."

She didn't comment on the fact that he was about to take a fork to a whole apple pie. Like most things, Del didn't cleave to particularly rigid lines with what food should be eaten when. Life was too hard already to bother with the entirely arbitrary nature of what foods were for *breakfast*.

The smell of the warm spices from the apple pie had largely masked the light scent of the buttery croissants so it wasn't until he produced them from the bag that Del murmured "Croissaaaaants."

"Could get used to this," she joked, sitting cross legged and settling the waxed paper in her lap as fingers started to pull apart the layers. She was sleepy still, but comfortable and pleased and for a heartbeat, just one word, her accent slipped before she recovered it. "Didja ask the girl down there what I liked? Or are you just a really, really good guesser?"

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
For a brief moment there was silence.

Walk looked at her first with confusion and then with a measure of thoughtfulness, before switching gears. "Both, honestly. Figured you for a croissant type and when I asked, she let me know you buy it quite often." His focus shifted to the piece of flimsiplast crumbled in his hand and shook his head.

"Also gave me her holo-number, that was a touch awkward."

It wasn't every day that he went to fetch food after a night of karking and sleeping, then suddenly get a lady's number pushed into his hands before he could say anything.

Not an unpleasant experience.

But a slightly confusing one. Part of that was the exhaustion still though. Yeah, they had some sleep, but Walker felt like he had been run over by a freighter. Everything hurt and it wasn't all from the... exercise. Part of it was simply the necessity of having to move around a lot.

"I figure we eat, shower, then you can show me your moves?"
 
"Awkward?"

Del chewed and swallowed, a bit of a devlish glint in her eyes and that smirk returning.

"You should call her, she's cute," she said before stuffing half of the croissant in her mouth. Then paused and thought about it beyond the tease for half a second before-

"Never mind, she's almost young enough to be your daughter. Alright, awkward."

She took a long sip of the caf, leaning back against the headboard and regarding him for a moment.

How was it that this was so easy? They'd just fallen into the cadence and candor of a much older relationship, at the very least friends who had known each other long enough to get out of the 'awkward new person' phase. The whole thing was ridiculous. And a little dangerous. Yet there was none of the gut feeling of 'get him the kark out of here' she'd have expected from that realization. She wasn't chomping at the bit for some quiet privacy (which, she would need at some point). It was.... strangely pleasant.

Also pleasantly strange.

"Might as well save the shower for after," she commented, brushing the crumbs off the tips of her fingers over the paper and wrapping it up neatly.

"Also probably not on a full stomach. No reason to do that if it's not necessary. I don't want to see what apple pie coming up the wrong way after all. You mentioned you wanted to see the beach?"

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Walker almost choked into a piece of the apple pie, when she mentioned the age of the... child.

By Manda these girls managed to dress and paint themselves to such a degree that it was sometimes difficult to determine certain facts of legality and decency. He counted himself lucky to not have applied every bit of his charm on her now. Just a little bit of charm, so they would get the warmest pies and croissants, instead of the stale ones left-over from the previous day. Del slapped him on the back a couple of times, before he warded her off.

"Thanks, thanks, I am okay." Walk shook his head. "Didn't realize she was that young." Manda bless her.

The beach?

Hmm, he had been looking forward towards a fight. Not that Walk really enjoyed fighting or anything, in fact... he really wished he could avoid them all the time.

But for some reason there simply wasn't the pressure he had experienced with his mother.

If Del kicked his ass a couple of times? Walk would have been fine with it and probably would have learned something. Always had felt different with his ma and the other Mandalorians. He took another careful bite, mulling it over, before drowning it away with some more caf.

"Yeah, you made me curious, I am down to take a romantic walk there with you." Smirk up again and Walk looked up at her.
 
"The wrong side of legal on most planets," she confirmed with a nod and a smirk. "Not that Velusia tends to cleave too heavily to those kinds of lines mind you. But still."

Sliding off the side of the bed, Del stretched, long and languid.

"You're about five steps early in a ten step tango, Walk," she said with a smirk and a sidelong glance, her tone and body language almost painfully casual. "Sharing a bed and one breakfast doesn't mean you can just sweep in. Besides, I don't do romance."

That was true. Sort of.

As she padded across the room towards the closet, she pulled the tank top off in one motion, then with a pull and a shimmy stepped out of the shorts a moment later. She reached the door of the closet before tossing back over her shoulder, "Anything you need from your ship? Clean clothes?"

Reaching up, she drew a light wrap dress in garnet from a hanger.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
There was little in the way of hesitation as Walk moved.

Might have been the wiggle, might have been the playful tone, might have been a number of things or maybe it had been all of them combined. But the result was roughly the same in the end: one pressed against the others, fingers brushing and his whisper down her neck and up her ear again. No hesitation, but no press forward beyond what she was willing to give in the moment.

"That... can wait." Walk mumbled with the turn of the caress. "I suddenly recall something about exhausting, sweaty distractions." A call-back to her light joke the other day, when she was playing around with the mention of her bed.

Breakfast hadn't been that heavy to avoid this kind of exercise.

It was strange how easy this was though. More often than not it took time and trust being build up, before Walker reached this state with anyone. But for some reason Del had cut through all of that as slippery as butter.

Not that Walk was complaining.
 
Del chuckled, tilting her head back and turning her face toward his slightly.

"Mmm, you seem kind of sore and stiff, sure I didn't wear you out yesterday?"

She leaned back against him, her own hand trailing back and down.

"Not at all, darlin', I'm just getting warmed up."

"Well, in that case....."

*****

It was midafternoon by the time they actually made it to the beach. Which was apparently prime beach going time. The stretch of grey and black ribboned sand wasn't thronged with people, but it wasn't private either. Delilah had found that this time of day wasn't the right for her own personal brand of beach combing, but she'd brought the shoulder bag with her, just in case anyway. She never was one to ignore an unattended towel, after all.

"There's a local legend," she commented when he noticed the first of the divers getting ready to go into the waves. "An era ago, before the Plague, there was some pirate queen. Apparently she terrorized the galaxy for half a century before finally dying- pockets stuffed with loot and a smile on her face, the story goes- and some admirer of hers tracked down her ship out in the black and had it brought back here. Home port. And sank it, riches and all as a memorial to her. Sometimes weird things wash up on shore, so it's just enough to keep the legend alive, I suppose. But every day there's someone heading out, expecting to find that ship and everything on it."

Her shrug made it clear what she thought of their chances.

"I figure if the Revenant, was down there, someone would have found it by now."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
A familiar shine entered his eyes once the mention of treasure came into view.

At least for a moment, before it was shuffled away in response to her expression of doubt. It was a good point - if there truly was treasure deep down there, why hadn't anyone found it yet?

"Maybe someday someone will unearth it." Walk shrugged. "Or maybe it's just a fancy tale, either way-"

He looked around a bit.

It was pretty busy, but that was to be expected. They could have been here sooner... things had kept them occupied though. "Pretty beach, you wanna go lie down and enjoy the sun or walk some more?" The mention of the treasure still kept him occupied. How amazing would it be if they found it? It would be enough wealth to pay off their debts and then some.

No longer a need to look over their shoulders every single breathing moment.

Wouldn't that be a romantic gift?

Oh, Del might have said she didn't do romance, but somehow Walker doubted she would mind... in this situation. A date deep down the sea to find hidden treasure and adventure. If the ship was still somewhat functional. Wouldn't be surprising, if the shields had given out years ago and the entire thing was flooded with water.

"Have you ever tried to hunt for the Revenant?"
 
Her face was turned toward the water when she answered him, though whether deliberate or by coincidence was unclear.

"I don't make a habit of searching for things that probably don't exist." Her tone was casual, dismissive. "There's plenty of real, reachable, touchable things to strive for. Fairytales should be left to children and the soft headed."

In truth, she meant a lot more than just the legendary pirate ship. A small part of her, one that she never let out anymore, never gave voice to, wanted to believe..... in a lot of things. Not just the Revenant.

"Walk, sit, either are fine. You said you wanted to see it, so," she turned back to him with a shrug.

She was being difficult all of a sudden and she recognized it. She just wasn't sure what she wanted to *do* about it.

"Do you swim?" She asked suddenly, cocking her head to the side. "I don't mean right now, just... in general."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Walk looked over to her in curiosity.

He knew that she was the more... realistic of them two, but he hadn't actually been expecting this amount of... hrrm. It was difficult to put to words, but it was some sort of weariness laced into her tone. Like she had seen it all before, had her expectations and hope crushed out of her, so what was the point of dreaming?

"Our dreams define us, Del." Walk mumbled, while watching the ocean with her. "Gotta allow yourself to dream sometimes, to reach out towards the impossible... try to grasp it, take a chance even if they are remote."

A shrug of the shoulders.

"Part of what makes life so interesting- you never know what might happen." Or who might happen to you.

It was then that the man resolved himself to find the Revenant for her. It would be good for her, to see an impossibility, a dream, a chance rise up in front of her and shake the foundations of her world. Everyone needed a wake-up call every once in a while and this treasure ship could do that to her.

And if it didn't exist? Maybe he would just crash a ship into the ocean, when she wasn't looking.

How hard could it be?

"Yeah, sure. Sometimes." Now he looked at her again, confused this time. "Why?"
 
"I've got enough to reach for. Enough credits to get us out of this mess, a warm croissant, a perfect pot of tea, and of course....," she murmured, tone turning toward teasing at the end. The casual, easy Del back as her hand ghosted out across his hip for a moment and her eyebrows bounced once at him.

"I'll stick with those and count myself lucky."

It was for the best that she didn't know about his internal promise. This was fun, casual- but with a weight that didn't burden. She liked it, liked him, but would not have handled such a declaration of intent particularly well. He was wise, to keep it to himself.

The conversation had gotten way too serious. While it wasn't why she'd asked him initially, his answer brought that smirk to her face.

"Oh. Good!"

And without missing a step she pushed him into the surf.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
"Hmm... I see, well, maybe we can find a quiet dune and-" Next thing Walk knew he was seeing water closing in fast and there seemed nothing to be done about it.

Besides flailing with his arms and screeching.

A few seconds later the man was sputtering in the water, blinking feverishly with his eyes so everything stopped being duplicated, until finally he noticed Del laughing in the midst of it all. "Oh, you think this is funny, huh?!" Walker shouted with a devilish grin, before suddenly jumping out of the water to chase after her. Quick reflexes on her though, already splitting away and running, but Walker's legs were like pistons and there was no chance in hell she was escaping.

Though it did seem like Del wasn't running as fast as she could?

Breaths later his arms were wrapped around her and it was almost trivial to pull her off the ground, ignoring the shouts and attempts to pry herself free.

Then Del found herself landing in the water next with Walker closing in on pursuit.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​
 
"Absolutely hilarious," she grinned right before she dashed off down the beach.

It was more play and laughter than real chase, and when he caught her, she protested and tried to escape but only enough for the game itself before he dunked her unceremoniously into the surf. She turned, half surfacing before hooking his ankle with a yank- because if she was getting dropped in the drink so was he- violet waters covered them both, and they came up sputtering, still laughing, a moment later. Heavy salt water buoyed them, just the right side of warm in this climate.

How they ended up here, carefree and playful in a way she hadn't been since she was a child, she wasn't entirely sure. Considering everything that ought to be weighing down on them, this was the least likely way to spend an afternoon. And yet, here they were, chasing, splashing, dunking and laughing. Occasionally a grope or a stolen kiss and then the game resumed. If they weren't particularly careful of the other beach goers, well, it didn't matter to the pair at least.

For an hour, not a lot else did beyond the other.

Finally, out of breath and soaking wet, they trudged back up the beach to the board walk. A vendor at an ice cone stand gave her a sour look when she paid for their treats with soggy credits, but other than a grumble he seemed content enough to take their money.

"Um...... purple..... or...... different purple?" She asked, slightly bemused as she held up both cones to him.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Fabric plastered to his skin, hanging raggedly and sagged, hair in wild shapes and strains, but for some reason Walker did not seem to have a care in the world. There was nothing to compare this too - his youth had been filled with engineering, one, fighting, two, and the struggle to fit in... three. It was surprising, then, that a man such as Walker came out of it. After all, where did he find the joy to smile, when he had never known more than the frown of a mother, the absence of a father and the derision of a family?

A mystery.

At least for this particular moment in time. Perhaps one day she would ask him and perhaps one day he would tell her... or perhaps they wouldn't do either.

Life was funny that way.

"I always love the taste of different." Walk teased before taking the other purple, trying a taste as they walked away from the stand and towards a more secluded part of the beach. This would presumably make everyone very happy, what with their lack of care when it came to their happiness.

"Miss Keyes, you are quite competent at running away, we may yet stand a chance against the forces of the Galaxy." He settled himself down on the dunes, secluded and private. "How's your cone?"
 
"You are a rather competent splasher yourself, Mister Ducarte- after today's preparations, clearly we are ready to take on the galaxy, one dry, unkicked beach blanket at a time."

Del frowned at her cone, running the tip of her tongue around the base of it to catch the rapidly melting syrup.

"Messy," she said with some level of consternation between licks. She ended up with sticky hands anyway, and eventually she gave up with a chuckle and a shrug. It tasted good at least.

"Yours?"

The sand got rockier as they reached the western edge of the beach proper. A few people poked around the tideline for bits and bobs that might have washed up, but otherwise they had left the crowds behind. Rather than turn back, however, Del started to pick her way carefully over the rocks until she found one wide and smooth enough for them to both sit on. The grey stone was warm beneath them, and between that and the afternoon sun, they would dry off soon enough. She seemed to be in no particular hurry as she settled down, eyeing him for a moment before-

"Want a taste?"

Her hand held out the cone.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Some of it dropped down his pants and he looked sad at it.

"About the same, if not worse." Walk commented quietly, while trying to wipe away some of it.

At least until she mentioned a taste. This prompted him to look up, first towards the cone and then towards the lady holding it out behind it. A smirk started playing, before he nodded in thanks - it looked like he was reaching towards the cone. At least until his hand wrapped around hers and pulled her in closer.

Lips touched hers (sweet, wet, just a bit colder than was expected, but that was ice cream for you) and the kiss was soft.

"Tastes good." He murmured against her mouth, before pulling back again. "Might need a couple of more samples later, miss Keyes."

This felt good.

It was warm, sunny, this part of the beach was almost empty and that gave them privacy. The stones heated their bodies up again, drying down the wetness.

Good times.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]
 
Her own smile widened just in the moment before his hand tightened on hers and their lips met- she'd hoped that would be the way he'd take it, and while brief, she found herself wondering just how they'd ended up here and why it mattered if just kissing him made her smile.

Lingering effects of Zeltros. Obviously.

Sure.

"Yours too," she murmured back, "You have excellent taste, sir."

They sat then, shoulder to should and hip to hip, eating the rapidly melting ice cream and looking out over the water. Just as with the night before, there was that odd, perfectly compatible silence where neither of them felt a particular need to fill the air with meaningless chatter, but where there was no loss of anything for it.

Popping the bottom of her cone into her mouth, a few minutes later, she licked her fingers to get the rest of the ice cream off.

"Ready to head back?" She asked, cocking her head at him slightly. The sun had reached midway in it's track back down to the horizon, and the breeze was starting to pick up, cool and brisk from over the water.

"After all, still have some business to attend to before the day is out," she said, the hint of a wicked grin curling the corner of her mouth.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Walk eyed Del for a brief moment.

This was pleasant, but she had a point. "I suppose you can't wait to kick my teeth in and show me how it's done." He chuckled and then gave a light shrug. Why not? After all, the only way for him to get better was to try and get better. Practice, negative or positive would give him an edge at the end of the day. Strange how he never had that attitude when it was his mother beating the ever living crap out of him.

But that was just the way things were.

He pushed himself up, helping Del up with a hand and then stretched ever so slightly. Bones creaked and it reached that pleasant tension, that usually happened whenever you stretched just right.

"Alright, I am ready to face my destiny." An elbow was offered for her to take, if she wanted it.

Otherwise they would simply walk side-by-side.

The beach had emptied out in the meantime. A few stranglers here and there, but for the most part it was empty. The sun was declining and hiding itself behind the horizon, but still giving off beautiful brushes of red, orange and yellow. "Looks pretty, we should do this more often." The comment was made without much thought in it, just a stray proposition.

But maybe it meant more than that.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]
 

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