W A R W I T C H
"There Was Once Girl Who Dreamed of Fields of Flowers & Fire~"
The streets of Zeltros were alive with color, a living tide of music, perfume, and laughter spilling from every corner café and festival stage. Lanterns drifted on invisible air currents, couples tangled in dances that seemed half a heartbeat away from embraces, and the very air itself seemed to hum with indulgence.
Through this garden of pleasures stomped Domina Prime, the Warwitch of Mandalore. An apex predator dropped into a carnival. Her towering frame and wicked silhouette turned heads, yet her five eyes betrayed her in every way, swirling and darting with childish wonder.
"Ohhh..." she cooed through her visor, tail lashing dangerously close to bystanders as she pressed her mask flat against the display window of a boutique. The glass rattled under the weight of her fascination as her eyes locked on a mannequin draped in glittering silks and a gown crusted with tiny gems. She tilted her head, chittering in delight, claws tapping the glass like a child desperate for sweets.
"Domina… Milady? Prime?" came X9's clipped, metallic voice at her side. The droid hovered indignantly, his photoreceptor glowing a tired shade of blue. "DIMA! We're supposed to be meeting a contact! Does this look like the time to go shopping?"
She sighed dramatically, shoulders rising and falling beneath her beskar. "Oh Manda, whaaaaaaaat? I got time! Look at this dress! Isn't it lovely?" Her voice shifted into a girlish whine of want, an almost painful contrast to the usually imperious roar she greeted her enemies with.
X9 whirred, unimpressed. "Milady, that garment is at least five sizes too small for you."
Behind the mask, Dima frowned. Her eyes flicked up, catching the towering holoprojector billboard above. A Twi'lek model smiled down at the city, lips painted with bold crimson, her outfit a scandalous ripple of shimmering fabric. Across the display: 'Be BOLD. Be BEAUTIFUL.'
Dima's clawed hand rose to her mask, tracing where her lips should be. Her head tilted, ears lowering as her tail slowed. "X9... am I a pretty girl?" she asked softly, almost innocent. The glass reflected her looming figure back at her, framed in deadly armor, surrounded by silks and dresses she'd never fit.
The droid hesitated. "...You are...certainly something, Milady."
Her crest fell further. "O-oh. Okay." She turned away, tail drooping as her claws fidgeted. It was almost comical. This terror of the battlefield suddenly reduced to a sulking giant in the middle of Zeltros.
And then-
The boutique door clicked open. A young Zeltron attendant peeked out, blinking up at the Mandalorian like a mouse staring down a dragon. "Um… Ma'am? If you saw something you liked, we're open. You're welcome to try it on."
X9 groaned aloud, metallic hands slapping against his chassis.
Dima, however, lit up like a firework. She nearly bounded in place, claws pointing excitedly at the display. "O-oh sugarsnaps, really? Y-yes please! Dima likes that one! Oo-ohhh And that one too!" Her tail lashed with glee as she practically skipped toward the doorway.
Today, Dima was going to be a real and proper lady.
