Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Tension and Release

DOCKING PORT E-65
The Wheel, Local Time 1900

The Rime clunked and thunked as it attached and anchored to the side of a massive space station. Deep in the ship, there was a quiet blustering noise as Walker's old engine dog exhaled a snore of protest. Raz had made sure to keep the old bitty's food and water full while she'd been out. She was far too invested in that beastie, considering she hadn't even wanted it on her ship. At this point, though, "engine dog" was officially a required position on the crew.

Razelle Breuner stood and stretched, wandering off to her cabin to find a change of clothes. After that chicken soup for the soul she'd had on Vendaxa, she was in no hurry to be anywhere, and felt no imperative need to do anything or be seen in any specific way...but her entire wardrobe was casual clothes. Maybe she needed to dress sharp if she was going to be seeing Walker and/or Fable? She normally just looked...like Raz. Maybe today she needed to turn heads, even if it was just two specific heads.

Raz contemplated her closet for several minutes, which was likely the single girliest thing she'd ever done, ever. Eventually, she settled on something a little more bold than she'd normally consider something she could leave the house in. Shorts over a leotard under a jacket. It didn't leave her with much room to conceal weapons or armor, though she still managed a pistol in her jacket holster and a knife in one boot. She was vulnerable like this. She might be in danger...but there was no danger here. This was almost home.

As she heard the hiss of the Rime's boarding hatch close behind her, Razelle reached up to one ear to tap her headset comlink. It crackled for a second, opened up to the private channel she'd set up with Walker and Fable when she dropped the former off into the latter's care. "Hey. I'm back."
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

"Ah, fantastic timing as ever, Miss Breuner." Walker chimed over comms, sounding slightly exasperated. From the background noise, he seemed to be somewhere quiet - mood music could be heard in the background. "You've arrived as possibly the only woman who can settle a dispute of positively minor importance that has been raging for days in your absence, and I'd be glad to have you weigh in as I trust that you - unlike your associate,the charming but ever direct Merrill, can boast of a modicum of taste and understanding when it comes to matters of culture and cuisine." He explained, the words spilling rapid-fire as ever from the huckster's end of their little ad-hoc network. "In point of fact, I have such faith that you will select the right choice that I'm willing to wager-"

"Tacos aren't sandwiches." Fable insisted firmly, flatly, sounding the slightest bit annoyed. Contrary to Walker's end of the comms, Fable was somewhere busy and lively. Likely a market of some sort. "Tacos aren't sandwiches, and fishing isn't hunting." She added for good measure. Perhaps it was the small amount of proto-common-sense she possessed raising a fuss, or her unorthodox upbringing alongside Mandalorians, but it sounded as though the cloned shocktrooper was really putting her foot down on this topic. For whatever reason.

Walker sighed in a theatrical manner. "You see, Razelle? She's utterly intransigent, and I cannot possibly reach a satisfying conclusion to this matter with such non-starters as my opposition. Why, I'm perfectly willing to be reasonable..." He paused, and almost on cue, Fable sighed quietly. "...but that is beside the point, I suppose. I'll have you know that your associate here leads a very exciting life, and had I known how terribly exiting it truly was, I would have bought a better gun. Alas."

"He's hiding in a hotel." Fable reported. "And has been for days."

"He's not made of indestructible, and has taken his safety into his own hands." Walker corrected patiently. "You are as lovely as you are capable, Miss Merrill, but a man must needs see to his own safety before burdening the beauties around him with that grim duty. I am making a noble sacrifice to save you the trouble. There is no great need to thank me."

"You're not even-" Fable sighed, the words fading into an audible pout. "Where are you even hiding?! I'm supposed to be looking after you..."

"How was your trip, Raz?" Walker asked amicably. "I trust you've attained wisdom, or exciting armaments, or whatever it is that you desire so very much as to leave me at a place with, apparently, the most crippling infestation of ninja, terrorists and muggers ever seen in the Galaxy?"
 
With a little grin, Razelle shook her head and kept walking. She'd jailbroken Walker's comlink. It was a really simple matter to track him down. Three taps and... Event Horizon Hotel, thirty-second floor. Her boots thunked along the station's bulkhead, unperturbed. "Yeah. Something like that. Went looking for peace, kinda found it." She looked out over an interior opening, into the gravity ring of the station. The Wheel was...unique. "Feeling a lot better now. Either of you two up for some dinner?"

There was no real guarantee that they wanted to be near each other. Fable was probably still trying to protect him. Earnest little dear that she was. She'd want to help, and the way that Raz told her she could help was by protecting Walker...who was a coward, and not a fighter in the least. The Wheel could be rough sometimes. That said... "Also, ninja? Like, pajama-wearing martial artists from weeb Jedi movies?"

As she walked, her free hand ran along one of the station's guard rails. It wasn't an awful place, actually. She liked how dark it got sometimes, and it was never boring. Even if you weren't dating a panty fighter "female underground wrestler." This many people stacked in one place? Something was bound to explode. Sometimes literally.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

"I would like to but-"

"Did you know she was going to drag me off to Tarris?" Walker asked amicably, speaking over Fable. "No, really. You asked her to keep an eye on me - apparently - and her intention was to throw me into her ship and traipse her dizzy head halfway across the galaxy."

Fable sighed. "It's my mother's anniversary." She explained. "I wanted to leave last night, but thought I should wait for you to get back." She further added. From the background noise - a small echo and the thrum of machinery - Fable had made her way towards the start ports. Presumably, the Faux Pilgrim was there, laying in wait.

"Your patience does you credit." Walker allowed, dripping with magnanimity. "And if nothing else, it has allowed me to enjoy this fine afternoon to myself for once, instead of being passed between mercenary women like the last pack of Vardos Slims in a foxhole." The sarcasm was audible, as was the sound of Walker pouring himself a drink. Something sloshy and carbonated, from the sounds of it. Given his usual habits, he was most likely raiding somebody else's minibar. "I'll take you up on that offer, Razelle, provided we can punctuate it with a light desert followed by leaving here. Fable was lovely company, but everyone here is just a mite too on edge for my tastes. And there's not enough money go around if you're asking me - which I assume that you are not, given how little concern you've shown for the intricacies and minutiae of my craft before. Shall I order seafood from room service?"
 
Of course. Just because Raz had found her heart didn't mean the galaxy had stopped moving. Felt a little unfair, sure, but Fable was patient. Endlessly so. She'd waited months at a time for Razelle to get off her ass and be a passably decent person. It was the least Raz could do to offer even the slightest bit of recompense for that. "Fly safe," she replied simply. A half-second later, the blonde realized that that was probably too brusque. "I'll call you a little later. After you've had time."

Well, that was firmly out of her comfort zone. She'd been walking confidently, but now...less so. She felt like she'd changed quite a bit in the few days it'd been since she left. Fable wouldn't care. She didn't care about a lot of things. Walker, on the other hand, was complicated. He was largely around because he was scared of her, and possibly for protection. If she started getting emotional and understanding and cuddly now, he might take it as a sign of weakness.

In all of these calculations, Razelle neglected to account for the possibility that she wasn't very understanding. Or cuddly.

A combination of rapid public transit and a perfect knowledge of Walker's coordinates left walking up to the hotel's lobby just as the swindler stopped talking. "Nah. I kinda feel like going out," she replied simply. At least her speech pattern hadn't noticeably changed. "Whatcha feel like? Cafe? Street food?" The Wheel was a pretty sizable mid rim economic hub. To say that it had a considerable spectrum of food available was an understatement.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

"Seafood." Came Walker's slightly acerbic reply after Fable had confirmed they'd talk and affirmed her affection. "Of some sort." Honestly, it should have been self evident in that he suggested it first, but Razelle didn't seem to pay attention to those sorts of details. That said, Walker wasn't much for out-loud negativity, especially towards other people. It had a way of getting one confronted or bailed on, and he absolutely didn't want that. "Though I could be persuaded towards other dishes, perhaps, provided they make a compelling argument for the privilege of passing my pernicious palate." He added in an airy, cheerful tone whilst getting ready.

After a month or two aboard the Rime and in the constant company of the talented Razelle Breuner, Walker had developed something of an understanding of how the woman worked and how he fit into her life. To say that he didn't care about her or viewed their relationship as purely transactional would be something approaching incorrect - Walker was fully capable of caring about people - though he was rather selective about who was afforded that privilege - and wasn't any more transactional when it came to Raz than he was with anyone else. Even slightly less so, if such a thing could be believed. It was in his best interests to be nice and compromise, because doing so made both of their lives smoother and more pleasant, and he cared about making her nice smoother and more pleasant insofar as it did not conflict with his own. So far, aside from being tied up a couple of times for so-called 'escape attempts', it hadn't. Besides, his dog lived on her ship.

Experience and intuition told him that Razelle would likely be moving towards him the moment she spoke, so he'd been getting ready for her arrival with the easy haste of somebody who'd pulled up stakes and moved offworld in a hurry many times before - assuming that she knew exactly where he was. He met her at the elevator in casual dress, actual casual dress. No cape: only a plain shirt and jeans, a tie, and his walking staff, with an aged old duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. "I think you have yet to be introduced to the wonders of popcorned shrimp, Miss Cognito." Walker greeted with a wide smile. "And I think my keen eye has spotted the very same at a stall not far from this house of transient rest. Shall we thusly acquit ourselves from it and make our way there?"
 
With a sigh, Raz shrugged and leaned back against a support pillar, waiting for the less useful of her two friends (in the entire galaxy. Jeez, that was depressing) to finally get his crap together and get downstairs. "You don't owe anyone money, I hope," crackled her reply over the comlink, right before Walker met her downstairs. If he had debts, they'd have to make a hastier exit, and frankly, she'd prepared to look cute and eat fun food with her two favorite people. That she could now only do half of that wasn't the best start to the...end of the day, actually.

"Gonna have to explain that one. Shrimp covered in popcorn doesn't sound terribly appetizing." Popcorn was hollow calories anyway. Though, like, normal popcorn wasn't bad unless you covered it in a bucket of low-grade butter. If this was stall food, though, that was absolutely what was about to happen. Sighing in resignation, Raz caught herself before she complained about anything. This was fine. This was basically what she wanted to do today anyway. Her lip turned up in something resembling a smile, but not nearly sinister enough. She didn't even look like she wanted to eat someone's throat raw on the bulkhead.

Razelle took a moment to tap at her databracer. "She's off. Outside comm range. What happened?" Chances were it was just Walker being a pansy again. Fable wouldn't put him in danger. ...Not intentionally, at least. She might not realize something was dangerous until it blew up in their faces. Walker was still in one piece and carrying a stick, for some reason, so chances were nothing terribly awful had happened. Still. Couldn't be too careful.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

"The pocorn bit, I assure you, is something of a misnomer." Walker graciously swore, offering his arm to Razelle as he ambled out of the lobby. He didn't bother to comment on owing anyone money - technically, he did. Because of course he did. Were there any agreements or arrangements that he'd pay somebody back shortly or immediate debts? No. In a couple of days the hotel might discover that he wasn't a Trandoshan bounty hunter, but that was between the bounty hunter and the hotel; Walker had ditched that card ten minutes after booking the room when he'd gotten ahold of a way into another, fancier room that was being held for some VIP. They were out of town, and it was a pity to leave all that space and comfort and luxury unused. "Popcorn shrimp merely refers to the breading, the humble tempura that is both airy and flaky while retaining all the flavor one might expect of something fried." Walker elaborated grandly. "This, of course, makes it perfect for retaining sauces."

On to the serious matters. Walker frowned slightly, lowering his voice as though being frank were something that required a modicum of secrecy. "She was fine company, and did her best to accommodate my presence. Your friend is an exemplary hostess." He explained. "But that woman has some serious curse on her head. It seemed that somebody was trying for her life every day, and it was beginning to shoot my nerves. Last night, I woke up a hostage to a pair of deranged wookie assassins and decided I'd had enough. I thanked her for her hospitality, released her from the burden of defending me, and suggested we keep in touch over Comms." Walked paused to hold the door open for Razelle, glancing over his shoulder as they departed. "She took this as an affront, it seemed, and wanted to retrieve me so that we could 'talk about this in person'. I respectfully declined the offer. She is lovely, but there have been more attempts on my life in this past week than in the year proceeding it." Walker shook his head and offered a small shrug to Razelle, looking honestly a little flummoxed or flustered. "The both of us seem to have no shortage of people who'd like to see us dead. I fear the combination may be terminally unhealthy for someone with a normal tolerance to bodily harm, such as myself."

Leading the way down the street, Walker shrugged a shoulder and brushed his bangs back. "She's your friend. And she's a lovely person. Out of respect for however you'd define our relationship, rest assured that I accepted no coin or bargain from Fable." He promised.

"No matter how easy it would have been..." He added a moment later, under his breath.
 
At least he had the common decency not to trick a fool out of her credits. Razelle nodded, hands in her jacket pockets. She was used to putting them in her pants pockets, but shorts this short didn't have pockets. Stupid girl clothes. "She's a good kid. Thanks for not taking advantage of her." That word tasted weird. "Thanks." It wasn't gratitude, really. Just an acknowledgement and approval of something someone did that she didn't hate. Was this what normal people sounded like?

Fortunately, it seemed like Walker was exaggerating just how much danger he was in. After all, if Fable got him out of it alone, it couldn't have been more than a raw half-dozen gangsters with small arms. Not hardly a wake-up routine. Still, some people were soft. It was taking Raz some time, but she finally managed to convince herself not to hold that against him. Walker had lots of talents. Some of them were even rarely useful.

"So. Shrimp me." Raz replied, bumping Walker's thigh with one hip. She felt saucy, even if she wasn't acting like it. A bit of relaxation was absolutely a good idea right about now, before Scherezade grabbed her to drag her off into some pirate den for a cacophony of murder and death without pay. "I'm buying." That should get his attention.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

"When you're already so very shrimpy?" Walker sighed, placing a hand on Razelle's shoulder. Not that Walker was MUCH taller than Razelle - he wasn't - and with her muscles and solid build taken into account, there could very well be more of her than there was of him. But that didn't stop him from being taller. "Truly, you live a dangerous life. I shall appease your carnal, carnist hungers to the best of my ability, Razelle, rest assured." After all, a blonde mercenary had once growled at him that it 'didn't count as a meal if nothing died for it'. Razelle was no fan of salads.

It was a short walk to the market row, and while he'd normally eagerly leap into haggling with the various shop owners and stalls littering the busy bazaar boulevard, Walker was a man on a mission today. He led Razelle directly to a busy stall around which hung the tantalizing aroma of salt, sea, and vegetable oil. Carnival fare, with an oceanic bent - nearly perfect comfort food. It didn't take long for the two wanderers to be proffered with a large cone filled with delectable-looking popcorn shrimp and fried oysters, arranged with fries as though a bouquet of high-calorie worship. And, of course, a bottle of something fizzy to share. Walker leaned back to toss a shrimp towards Razelle with the expectation that she'd catch it out of the air once they began walking.

"When I'm not under attack, The Wheel isn't so bad." The blue-haired huckster admitted. "Though it would have been more entertaining with you around. How's the dog?"
 
With one hand, Raz reached into one of her jacket pockets and pulled out her stims. A flick, a cinder, a brand new stream of stimulants to keep her upright. Surrounded by the smell of burnt mint coffee, the little ball of grizzled cliches gave a quick shrug. "She's fine. Freshly snuggled." Razelle didn't smell like old dog, so it probably wasn't her who sacrificed her body on the altar of dog snuggles.

Hm. Seafood tended to spoil too quickly to fit Raz's nomadic lifestyle. It'd been a while since she'd had anything full of mercury and smothered in brine. Well...except that acklay yesterday. Admittedly, it didn't sound awful. Real food was something of a luxury for her, and she felt like she was in a splurging mood. Uncharacteristically generous. She'd even paid her docking fees, rather than just remote-slicing the terminal. It'd been a good week.

"With me around, I think it'd probably a bit less entertaining," the blonde replied with a smirk and one raised eyebrow. "Between me and Fable, I don't think we've seen a single 'ninja' before now." Of course, it wasn't unbelievable that they'd seen plenty of them and just killed them, or that they were really good at hiding. Either way, Razelle left Walker with Fable for a reason. She wasn't smart, but it would have been criminally dishonest to call her incompetent. Girl could bench a speeder.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
"That's how insidious they are, my dear!" Walker crowed grandly. "You hear of them as children's tales, and believe you've outgrown the stealthy menace - but your belief matters not to the ninja." He explained with a broad smirk, sweeping his arm behind his back as they walked. "They'll quiet you away to the dark dimension just the same, and they can be anyone at all. Anywhere. Any time." It was, perhaps, unclear just how much of this was Walker enjoying the sound of his own voice. "Why, they've proficiency with every deadly took known to man, and several we're not observed, yet! As I hear, the Vong is the larval form of a ninja."

That last one earned Walker a dirty look from a passers-by, to whom he quickly apologized. Rather than keep going, he busied his mouth with a shrimp. "You have a new look about you today, Razelle. Something intangible about you has changed." He noted quietly, glancing at the blonde. "You seem calmer. Composed. I hope everything is alright."
 
Ridiculous creature. With a quiet sigh, Razelle shook her head along with Walker's babbling. She thought, for a moment, that buying him food would at least stop him from spinning grand legends of eld with which to harrow children. As it turned out, Walker was some form of bizarre near-human who required neither his tongue nor any air to speak. A very niche talent. Almost baseline. She should've contacted a researcher, might make a few credits delivering him for study.

Hm?

Raz smiled. Or at least, it looked like a smile. Kind of. Once again, there was no predatory glint in her eye, no bared fangs, no psychotic glare. Just...a smile. Like some kind of person. "Yeah," she replied, her voice even. "Everything's alright." She didn't really want to talk about it, because honestly, how could Walker really understand? Even so, though, he was a semi-permanent addition to her crew. He'd probably meet Scherezade at some point... Better to rip that bandage off now, before it had a chance to set.

"Took a personal day," she continued, still as brief as ever. "Didn't expect to find anyone, which would've been fine. I wanted to be alone." She shrugged a bit, took a shrimp, and gave it an experimental chew. Shrimp and seasoned bread. Not a lot else. Not bad. "Funny how the galaxy likes to prove me wrong. Fable'd probably say something about the will of the Force or whatever." The blonde rolled her eyes and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. "Anyway. I met someone I...really couldn't have ever expected."

Her voice trailed off a little, and her smile didn't fade. It was damn-near wistful. "Someone important."

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
Walker considered this for a moment, furrowing his brow in an expression uncommon to him - concern. Somebody important to Razelle, but apparently not anything terrible or she would have likely pulled up stakes by now. It was curious, something that might warrant investigation, but in the meantime? Her reaction was enough that he briefly wondered if she was truly alright. Who just SMILED like that? Not the Razelle he knew.

Walker nodded the slightest bit. "Seems like good things occurred." He noted. "I'm glad for that. We could all use some good news in our lives." Some more than others. Razelle more than most. While he was curious, Walker sincerely doubted that Razelle wanted to offer any more information than she already had. She wasn't generally big on sharing, at least in his experience. Better to respect her space.

He chewed thoughtfully on a shrimp. "So, what's the plan, now?" Walker inquired cheerfully. "What wild adventures are we off to next? I'm partial to a beach, personally."
 
After another quiet mouthful of shrimp, Raz shook her head and leaned over a guardrail, looking out into the inner atmosphere of the Wheel's gravity ring. It was always pretty impressive to see just how a space station could have open air like that. "Wanted to talk about that, actually." She flicked the burnt stim butt off into the ring, pretty much ambivalent to where it'd wind up. After all, there was a particle shield to catch most of the litter.

"Things might get a little interesting pretty quick. I'm heading back to Confederate space. It's pretty wild there." Despite the fact that she was talking directly to Walker, she didn't turn or look at him. Eye contact wasn't necessary, and when she was being open or emotional, it was downright difficult. "I wouldn't mind if you stuck around. I need a copilot. But it might get a little dicey, so it'd make sense if you wanna split."

Razelle needed to get active again. She needed to do things or she might go insane. More insane, if you wanted to really split hairs. "I'm getting ahold of myself, so, like...this is the best time to do stuff. And for once I have stuff to do." Gee, try not to overshare too much there, Ms. Breuner.

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
Walker gave a crooked smile, head leaning to one side. "Razelle, you wound me. WOUND me!" He gasped in a theatrical manner. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the glance at an exit door as much as the next man who doesn't especially care for threats to his life, don't think that I'm not appreciative! But I'm in too deep to simply leave you and our dog to some grizzly fate!" He declared boldly, sweeping his hair back. "And I havent a ship to house the old girl in, as you may recall."

"Besides." Walker continued more quietly, leaning on the rail beside Razelle. "Somebody has to make sure you eat decent food and manage to turn a profit." He added with a smirk. "If nothing else, I'd hate to be the sort of man who leaves his lady for the comforts of a safer port. I'd like to think I'm a better partner than that."

They hadn't discussed it aloud, but hey. They lived together, shared themselves generously, and took care of a pet together. As far as Walker was concerned, they were basically going steady. "I'll be your copilot, Razelle. Temper all that insane skill of yours with some healthy second opinions." Walker promised.
 
Alright.

Alright.

Razelle nodded, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Alright," she repeated to herself a third time. This was it. This was the moment that she decided what she was going to do with not only her life, but the lives of everyone close to her. She had to make sure when she dropped her stones, they fell right. One bad call and everyone she'd begun to care for - slowly, painfully, over the course of literal years - would suffer for it. Face the music. Time to dance. Whatever cliche you wanted to attach to it.

"If you're sticking around, you need to get caught up on a couple of things," the blonde began. Turning, she rested her butt against the rail instead, reached for a stimstick, then thought better against it. Two today was pushing it. She'd already be out for a solid fourteen hours when she went down. "An old friend of mine had a daughter I didn't know about. I met her for the first time when I was out."

It took a second or two before Raz felt confident enough to attempt to pronounce her name. "Scherezade." Close enough. "She's got some stuff going on in her life. Dangerous stuff. And no matter what it takes, I'm not going to let it destroy her." She was willing to spend herself for that, but she wasn't sure how she felt about spending Walker for it. "So we're heading out to Confederate space to watch her back."

[member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
 

Walker Twin-Sleeves

For only chits on the credit!
[member="Razelle Breuner"]

Huh. Babysitting detail - sort of. Walker hadn't really taken Razelle for the sort, but then, that was kind of the point of this whole conversation. She typically didn't give a damn about anyone, as far as he could tell, but she was giving a damn about this girl. Walker generally couldn't care less about anyone else, but he cared about Razelle. By proxy, he assumed, he cared about the wellbeing of this Scherezade as well. Which was strange to think about, considering he'd never met her. That would likely change soon. What was the proper protocol for meeting your girlfriend's goddaughter? Was there one?

Folding his arms on the railing, Walker looked out at space beyond the shield with a thoughtful expression. "Confederate space has a lot of credit to throw around." He remarked idly. "We could probably see about fixing up the Rime while we're at it - a little side project to keep me busy and out of the way, if you want to think of it that way." Walker added with a wry smirk. He still wasn't quite over being dropped off, probably. "I can't wait to meet your goddaughter. As complicated as you are, any family you've got is sure to be beyond interesting!" And hopefully interesting in the 'has good stories' sort of way and not the 'nexus of random violence' sort of way.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom