Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Yellow Durasteel Road

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Anse Baenshaol Anse Baenshaol BB-610 BB-610

Somewhere near the Qualii sector, just outside of Sith Empire space…

It was a good thing that droids did not have the Force. That was exactly why she was finally free to take her own ship again. It had been almost a year since Scherezade returned to life from the space between dimensions, but her personal ship still carried all the blood magic that had been involved in sending her there. Writing in blood were on the wall and any Force User that walked on the ship could easily sense that something sinister was still happening there.

Which was why she'd covered the wall with pale pink paper, gave the floor a good scrubbing, and pretended that nothing was wrong while she kept anyone and everyone out of there. Except her pet companions. And her droid, Twinkle Doom. And today, BB-610 BB-610 . They were supposed to embark on a simple mission, something about diplomacy, talking to people, translating weird people, maybe tossing a handful of glitter and confetti into the air.

But of course, everything had gone wrong. Instead of talking, there was fighting. There was shooting. Someone even managed to stab Scherezade, and she'd run away from the meeting place, holding Twinlke Doom in her hands, the hilt of a knife protruding out of her shoulder blade, and a trail of blood left behind. That last bit was the part that annoyed her; no one else had bled as much, and she hated leaving blood behind. She was a Blood Hound. She knew what could be done with it.

Back on her ship, it appeared both of the droids had been hurt in the process. She had a few tools she could tinker with, but not enough to actually fix them. And she didn't feel like taking them back to the Scintilla when they were looking like that.

Thankfully, she knew of a small pirate space station nearby. With a touch of luck, it would still be there, and not have moved away in fear of being swallowed up by Sith territories. And the touch of luck was indeed given, and in under an hour, there they were.

Scherezade walked through the station, holding Twinkle Doom, who was near breaking apart and beeping sadly, always making sure that BB-610 was next to her because he was going to be fixed as well, and the three moved forward on the yellow durasteel road, in search of a mechanic.
 
ᴏɴᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴢᴇʀᴏᴇꜱ
The lucky thing about astromech droids is that they weren't often involved in shootings. They'd push some buttons, fix some ships, and stay off on the sidelines, letting their masters and allies do the fighting. The unlucky thing about BB-610, however, is that one half of his programming really wants to hurt people. So when a fight breaks out, he gets more than he bargained for, and soon enough he finds himself running off with Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter and her droid with a number of bent disk compartments, a malfunctioning blowtorch, and somehow even more glitchy code.

He was still a bit skittish, and he was still a tad wary of even Scherezade, but the immediate necessity of a mechanic meant even his aggressive side had to bite the bullet and accept help. As they walk, BB-610 glares up at the woman. A low series of concerned beeps, and he attempts a scan - except his photoreceptors had been damaged, and he can't even tell if there's an organic present unless they're right next to him.

"Bweeaoh bwoo." the droid grunts, as if to impatiently ask, "when are we getting fixed?".
 
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--|--Theme
Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter

A den of pirates wasn't quite where he was used to ending up, but then beggars couldn't be choosers anyways. He had hired on to a dilapidated small charter barely keeping afloat and this was the furthest stop he could get. Of course, when it came time to getting paid he was given a pittance, but that was the life. Maybe he could get better fees hiring on to an actual shop, but this wasn't quite the place for it.

He sat on the side of a fare-way, his hover-cargo drifting next to him as he watched people pass him by. A neat little sign hung from the side:

Will fix for hire, coin and or food inquire to the left.

He didn't look like much at first glance, no surprise given the others that haunted the place, but he at least looked clean and less shifty. His cloak was wrapped around him, hiding his frame under its faded dark purple folds. His hair was pulled back from his face and piled untidily, but to his left was three old droids that could have been taken as new. Only their model cried their age and as one watched, someone walked up and paid him, taking one of the trio away. It was fine work and worth much more than he was paid, he could easily make a name for himself working in a shop and towards a shop of his own, but here he was. The old clunkers hardly clunk as they moved off, standing taller with more pride in their gleaming plating.

He'd been paid in sacks of food, not the most ideal, but welcome regardless. As time passed the droids disappeared and he had enough foodstuff for a modest lunch and dinner. Even when it looked like no one else would give him a job he continued to wait. He was in no hurry and occasionally someone would stop and chat, but otherwise he was left alone. It had the look like he'd been there long enough to have a few know him well enough to stop for conversation. The fact that he hadn't been forced to move spoke a great deal, he was useful and wasn't causing problems.

He only seemed to take the work that those who couldn't afford the price or didn't want to take a risk. This meant he wasn't a threat to those already established, which was an intelligent choice. Eventually he pulled out some of the food and idly munched on a carrot as he let time fly by.
 
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Although there was a literal knife stuck in her body, as Scherezade walked down the halls of the space station, one droid in hands and one by her side, it was hard to notice that this gal wasn't exactly lacking for credits. Her armor's color shone stuck out almost as much as her green glowing eyes, and the fact that numerous blades were strapped to her body mostly indicated that there were at least a number of ones that were not in open view.

So yes, people stared. The Sithling, however, paid them no heed or mind. She was used to stares, for a variety of reasons. For most of her life, the stares had been of the bad sort, the mocking sort. Only months ago had this begun to change, but still she was using to having eyes glued on her wherever she went.

"Soon," she answered BB-610, "I'm as unhappy about this whole mess as you are. And look at Twinkle Doom! I'm carrying him! In my hands! What am I going to do if he's beyond repair? He runs my entire business! Do I look like a woman who can organize children's birthday parties? Do- AAAH!"

Though Twinlke Doom was injured and in droid-pain, he still knew what was happening around him. And he heard the whines of his master, and had given her an electric zap to get her to stop. A variety of beeps and boops came out of him, yet none of them amounted to anything coherent in binary.

And then came the first shoppe into view. It wasn't suspicious. Not at all. Though they didn't have any food on them. She hoped that by coin the person who made it meant credits, because she didn't have other currencies on her. Though, she could probably part with a few blades in return for a functioning Twinkle Doom, providing she didn't get zapped in the process.

Ignoring the stares that continued to follow her, Scherezade led herself and her droids into the shop.

"Hello!" Scherezade called out, "Need a droid doctor!"
 
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Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter

He sized her up and noted the blade protruding from her body and gave a low whistle. “Ya need a medic more than ya need someone ta tend ta th’ droid lass.” He said standing. “I’ll help ya get there, then see ‘bout gettin’ th’ droid ta a better mechanic than myself. Strictly speaking, th’ deal was I could park myself where I wished so long as I didn’t poach th’ fish tha’ can afford th’ established business within this den of classy folk. I go helpin’ ya, I be gettin’ th’ boot and likely losin’ th’ credits ya paid in the process. So, seems fair aye?

At a solid six foot six inches he was taller than many of the humanoids around him, many of the not too. He was solid lithe muscle and moved with a gait that spoke of training despite the casual grace to him. Something in his eyes however didn’t match with the norm, watchful eyes that took in every minute movement. A predator’s eyes. He took the machine from her and set it down, but then proceeded to lead her away towards the medbay. His accent was musical and despite the thickness, one could still understand him. He had the kind of voice that would be good for telling stories or even for singing.

Despite the circumstances he was incredibly calm, making it seem like he saw situations like this all the time. He didn’t, but as she was already making people around them wary, adding to that unease or reacting was a bad idea. Seeing someone taking charge, especially given his height and stockiness, seemed to settle things. People stopped staring and the crowd around them got thinner as people stopped gawking and got moving. He hoped she would agree to get seen to, he was surprised she was even moving around as is.
 
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Well, it was a spark of hope to find somebody capable of fixing the mess they had gotten themselves into. He was tall, towering over the droid - like most people do, to BB-610's annoyance. He was awfully calm about the whole thing. Was that just an act, or was this guy really being serious?

He watches as he takes the malfunctioning Twinkle Doom, setting her down and promptly ignoring her. What? A low beep that sounds awfully like a grumble fills the air as the stranger would guide Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter to the medical bay. BB-610 takes a brief glance back at the woman's droid, letting out a sympathetic whirr, before deciding to roll after the two.

'Get them to a better mechanic than [himself]' was what his memory banks recalled him saying. This wasn't the plan! A surge of impatience bubbles from within the astromech's chassis and it leads to a swarm of angry and upset beeping. His optic switches from its peaceful cyan to an annoyed red. He was not going to just stand by in an uncomfortably malfunctioning state and simply wait for a new mechanic to show up.

BB-610 rolls into Anse Baenshaol Anse Baenshaol 's leg with a heavy thud, head tilted back to glare at him with a narrowed optic. [ YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FIX US. YOU'RE A MECHANIC. FIX. ] was what the angry droid's series of beeps would translate to. A panel opens up to reveal his electro-shock prod, giving the mechanic's shin a brief jolt of electricity. It was evident that the droid wasn't going to wait any longer.
 


There was a reason that Scherezade held no official position within the Agents of Chaos. That reason was that as part of her Sithling nature, she was pretty damn bad at controlling her emotions, on reigning it in. More than one person had described her as a loose cannon, and she was someone that people tended to either like or dislike.

So when the man in front of her started to speak, her glowing green eyes narrowed. Pale cheeks took on a gentle flush of red hue, and she inhaled very, very slowly. But it was not with her actual physical nose that she was scenting him; no. Scherezade was a Blood Hound, and she could smell anyone who had blood through the force. Not only that, but she could tell species and bloodlines through it, as part of the nicer side of what being a Blood Hound gave her. There were also lesser good sides but now was not the time to consider those. But now that she had done that special inhale, she knew who was standing in front of her. Well, not who, but rather what.

And normally, that would be when she'd call one of her friends up to let her know that another one had been found. But now would not be that moment.

"No," she answered coldly. But before she could do anything else, BB had spoken. Did the mechanic know binary? Scherezade wasn't sure, but she sure as heck knew that everyone understood what a droid's electric zap meant. Force knew her body had been home to many of them from Twinkle Doom.

"Listen here, wolf boy," she almost growled, giving him her own face of the predator; many situations of the Blood Hound faced with other Lupines had occurred in the past. Scherezade tended to lose emotionally, but she'd yet been bested in battle since learning what armor actually was, "I've got two injured droids and a blade stuck in my body, which is making me very uncomfortable. Creds aren't a problem. Safety isn't a problem. You're going to fix my two droids and you're going to do it now or I'm going to find out what color your fur is and turn it into a bathroom rug."

And then, Scherezade's face broke from the predator, into a sweet and borderline innocent smile.
 
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Ship Name: Balefire
Model: UT-60D U-wing starfighter/support craft
Colors: Black on silver, purple accents
Armor: Phase I Haywire Armor
Weapons: Phase I Sword of Eve (black stone), Short Vibro-Swords (2), Daggers (6), Rifle, Blasters (2), Compact Flash Bombs (4)

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--|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter - BB-610 BB-610

He narrowly missed getting zapped, shifting away a hair before the electricity sparked. He stared at the woman his proverbial hackles up, she didn't smell like his kind so how'd she know? When he spoke it came out as a growl. "Try ta zap me again droid and when I get my hands on ya you'll get a personality upgrade. I might be a mechanic and ya might have asked me ta fix ya, but I can't just do tha'. I'm like an unassigned droid rolling in on a team already at work. My job is ta take what no one else thinks can afford what they charge, I can't just come in and take ya."

Just when he was fixing to add more an old twilek walked up casually, he eyed them all and looked to Anse. "Problems?"
"Lass here and her zappy pain in th' arse companion rolled up wantin' me ta fix th' mess. I went ta steer them elsewhere, they refused, droid tried ta emphasis its point."
The twilek turned and eyed the girl and the droid and snorted. "They give me the creeps, I'll pass word along, take 'em."
"My thanks Gal'lan."

The twilek just gave a grunt and moved back to his shop, leaving Anse to the mess. "I'll fix th' droids while ya go and get yourself less holey. However given ya threat and th' droids hostility, my fee will be a steep one since I be allowed ta get your payment. Th' best shop here would charge ya fourteen hundred, I'll charge ya sixteen. Take it or leave it and I'll want th' coin up front lassy. I won't be taking any chances with you lot, not after your inconveniences."

Actually, after this she'd likely be charged much more if people took her at all after word got around that old Gal thought she was 'creepy'. Everyone around this part learned to trust the old man when it came to his odd feelings, Anse of course had accepted the stories he'd heard without needing to learn. Instinct was instinct, he understood better than most to heed such things. In fact, his instinct said to wash his hands of her, but he couldn't of course. Something said he didn't want to make an enemy of this one.
 
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Scherezade's gaze bore into the Lupine's as he threatened BB. There was going to be absolutely no upgrading of any personalities unless wolf boy wanted to have his own demolished entirely. Death did people good like that, and she wasn't above killing a species that kept insisting they were the last of, but then had others popping up on a consistent basis.

When the Twi'lek came in, Scherezade gave him her sweetest smile. A smile made of saccharine. A smile that said do not mess with me, I'm too tired for your chit and I will happily show you your insides. It had apparently worked, since he said he had no interest in them and that the wolf boy could go ahead and take 'em as clients.

"Take twenty, I don't care," she answered with a truly careless shrug, "But don't krak up." With that, she idly tossed enough credit chips to take up space to the side of her injured droid, and turned around to see if she could spot a mirror. A bacta pad would do her better, but she didn't have any on her body right now, and she wasn't going to leave her droids alone.

Sighing, she pulled the blade out of her flesh very, very carefully, and groaned as the blood began to spill, soaking up mostly by the fabric of her armor.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" she asked as she covered the wound with her hand and began to focus with the Force. It wasn't going to do much in terms of healing; Scherezade was notoriously bad at healing herself. But if she could get it to be less worse, she wouldn't lose consciousness due to bloodloss before he was done with her metal friends, "Got your pack around this station somewhere? You guys also under the assumption that you're the last of your kind?"
 
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--I-- Playlist --|-- Ship --|-- Gear --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter

Anse moved the droids into position before he ever touched the credits laying thrown on the floor. Once they were where he wanted, then he picked it up putting them in a pocket. He ignored her as he started to carefully inspect the damage, giving a soft whistle. "You two went through some hell eh? Lucky for me tha' ye be newer 'bots as th' old ones get a bit of a pain with damage like this."

He got to work on the one with the most damage, at first her questions didn't register. "Why ye so keen on my things lass? I do not think myself is th' last of my kind, no. My father liked his women and so if there be other men like myself and him, probably be a fair few pups wandering th' galaxy eh? Though, I take pains not ta leave a lass with my spawn when they take a fancy to me. I rather like th' idea of having a hand in their raising, but I be wandering too much for tha' so I mind my bits ta see they don't do anything I do not want."

He chuckled softly at that, he knew his father hadn't been especially keen on that, but then that was how people were. If a child had been born and it was a son, he'd likely have gone back to negotiate to take the boy like himself. As far as he knew he had no siblings. However he differed from his father, if a lass had his get he'd see to their care and the raising, even if he didn't ever think he'd take a partner permanently. Still, it was possible, someday.
 

Well. If nothing else, the wolf boy in front of her seemed to have a good grasp on how genetics worked. It was refreshing not to need to explain to a Lupine that because of how their dominant gene worked, the possibility that there were no other Lupines beyond them was nonexistent. Maybe he tried to be a prick earlier, but now he was kinda moving into being all right in her book.

"Because I've met quite a few of your kind," she said, "and I can tell your scent by now, by your blood. My gifts run in other ways though. Definitely not one of you guys."

No, she wasn't one of them. She never would be, either. The window of opportunity for that had passed.

"A while ago I made a friend of mine a little present," she continued her chatter, seemingly only now realizing she'd forgotten all about her stab wound as her hand became warm and sticky because of the blood spooling out again. Shaking her head, Scherezade began to tend to it with the Force once more, "A stone, that shines brightly when a Lupine is nearby. It's supposed to help her find more of you. She'd be delighted to know you exist, especially so further away from her a few seriously chitty planets."

Sighing, she looked at her wound. It was ugly. There was no denying that. But if she healed it any further, it was going to be a new ugly scar. If she could leave it open for a while longer, she could yeet herself into a bacta tank as soon as they were back on her ship.

"Anyway," she continued, "if you wanna meet her, I can do the introductions. Would be best if you left this rotten place though. Are you looking for a better job?"
 
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--I-- Playlist --|-- Ship --|-- Gear --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter

Another of his kind and female? Certainly not what he expected, he grinned and shook his head. "I look for work lass, one job is th' same ta all th' rest, if I get paid in whatever I gain as pay, good. As for meeting another like myself? It be great tha' there be others, but why is this friend of yours so keen on finding my kind?"

The idea of meeting others surprised him with how anxious the idea made him. He hadn't been around another of his kind since his father and he wasn't even sure what things he would be expected to do. He knew nothing about his people. He knew nothing about his culture. He ought to be thrilled to have this chance and yet he was anything but. He kept working on the droid under his hands, despite the distraction his work was without flaw. He worked with the meticulous skill of a surgeon, fixing one thing after another with ease. He patched the formerly very broken droid up and then moved to work on the one that decided to try and zap him. "After I fix ye up, ye better never shock me again else I'll say look elsewhere for help little one. It's bad manners ta hurt th' ones that fix ye."
 

Scherezade just blinked. Now there was a surprise. Every Lupine she'd ever met had been all hot about the pursuit of other of their kind, and here this shmuck was, almost not giving a damn. Maybe it was her involvement with the Lupines that had made it feel so weird. Maybe it was something else. Maybe it was Maybelline.

"Because she, too, was told that there weren't any more Lupines outside of her immediate family," she explained, "but ever since leaving the planet she'd been born on, she's coming to find out that this isn't true at all."

And then there was the whole job thing. Did people really care about their jobs? Even when those jobs had them…. Grounded? It was strange to her. While it was true that she'd been in the Southern Systems for a long long time, she wasn't exactly grounded there. She'd often left to travel the galaxy, see things outside of it… Even now, with the Agents of Chaos, no one could say that she wouldn't get out of the Unknown Regions.

But then… "So like," she thought out loud, "what if I offered you a job? We're building this giant-butt space construct in the Unknown Region and it's all obviously mechanized and stuff so we need mechanics to work there too. We have a few already, but y'know what they say, the world is not enough. I could get you a fixed salary so that you'd have a stable income even when traffic's low, and decent housing. Also, no one's gonna threaten you for taking good jobs on. Or if they do, you can actually complain and it'll be taken care of!"
 
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--I-- Playlist --|-- Ship --|-- Gear --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter

Truth was, Anse really didn't care. Oh, someone coming along and validating what he already knew was well and fine, but it didn't impact him at all. He could see how someone told one thing and believing it and then finding out it wasn't true would make that person happy. However while he had had no proof, he never thought himself without a people. He studied her as she talked about a job, listening as he worked. She had walked around with a dagger in her body and then casually took it out like it was nothing.

He'd already pegged her as something dangerous. Problem was, what might she do if she said no? Instead he decided to bluff her and see if she would shy off and walk away. If he could get her to think he was way more trouble to keep, she might disappear. "Ye want ta hire me, I want pay even when I ain't working, money enough for some land of my own somewhere and I won't be more than your on call mechanic. Meaning, ye get these two into a mess or your ship, ye call me up and I come fix. I ain't interested in helping ye further your ideals ta bring what you think be a problem ta th' fix ye think everyone should follow. Tha' includes working on your station. I either work for ye directly or not at all. I also want my freedom ta take other jobs as I find them. I like ta move around and even this place was just a stop off till I chose a direction ta go." He didn't think she would go for it, especially as he wasn't quite done. "And I want it in contract, with a clause in it tha' if I feel working for ye be more trouble than worth tha' I can terminate it at any time."

He finished up the last bit and stood up crossing his arms waiting to see if she would meet his demands or bail like he was pretty sure she would. After all, he seriously doubted she could supply that or the people she worked for would for just one man.
 

Scherezade was still playing with the wound in her side, occasionally sticking her finger in it to wiggle the parts beneath her skin around as she assessed the damage. To an outsider, or someone who didn't quite know her, it might have looked as though she wasn't even paying attention. But while she was getting her own blood beneath her own nails, she listened very intently.

"So you want one, a fixed salary which I've already mentioned," she answered once he was done monologuing her butt off about it, "two, a place of your own, sure. Three, work directly for me, great, four, you should know that you'll be helping my ideals because you'll be helping me and there is no sugar coating that, five, take more jobs not just for me, well d'uh, as long as you don't work for our enemies, and six, if you ever wanna leave I expect a resignation letter given sufficient time in advance. Say, a week or two. I think that's really the least I can ask in return considering you're about to become a financial investment of mine."

All through her answers, her tone remained light and playful. Frankly, they might as well have been talking about last night's Huttball game or how to best make Bantha wings.

"I mean," she added, now turning to him with a grin, "Do you really wanna stay here?"
 
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----|---- Playlist --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter ----|----


Anse snorted. “Tha’ be on top of what ye already agreed ta pay lass and aye.

It amused him that she thought this station was a bad place. He had been in plenty more hairy locations than this. “Don’t ye thumb your nose at this place. I be knowing of places tha’ make this paradise and th’ people here put up with me well enough. I be trying to make coin enough ta buy supplies and then I would be on my way. With what ye be paying me I have more than enough ta jet. Occupation under ye, just be icing and if ye go and throw me at battles ye better be willing ta pay for th’ pleasure otherwise I be telling ye no when ye come asking.

In fact, even if she threw money at his feet, depending on the situation he would still tell her no. He was not going to be used to enforcing her ideals upon others and that was a line she cannot push him with money over. He was even more gleeful that with what he was paid he could even add some new modifications with credits to spare.


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"I thumb my nose at almost all the places, fur rag," Scherezade answered with a grin, "If you're so keen on leaving this place, I'm giving you the ticket out. Why the frek are all Lupines so stubborn for no reason, anyway?"

Pulling her finger out of the hole in her side, she hopped onto the table, drawing a small symbol on it with her bloody-wet finger.

"I mean what, are you trying to flex just so you can say you didn't come easily or something?" she asked, her glowing green eyes now dead panning at him, "We can tell people you resisted and I was a meanie poopoo head who forced you into it. Would that make things go a wee bit faster?"
 
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----|---- Playlist --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter ----|----


One eyebrow lifted at the ‘all Lupines were so stubborn’ and he snorted. “I cannot speak for others, but my guess be th’ fact they be fighting themselves. Ogrimm and I have accord between us and we share our skins, but others do not have such.” He then smirked. “And lass? I be only half Lupine. As for why I be dragging my heels? Ye be poking a finger in yourself and not in any fun ways. Sorry if I be not keen ta put my existence in your hands when ye be too busy holding in your life’s blood with fingers. Put yourself in other peoples boots lass and take in consideration how ye seem to come across to every sane being around ye. How ye be, determines a lot on how others will be and showing up as ye had, would put anyone’s hackles up.

Packing away his things didn’t take as long as one would think. “So is my being wolfborne the only reason ye want me? I am not keen to live in a zoo if tha’ be what ye are after.


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@Anse Baenshol​

"No such thing as a half-Lupine," Scherezade grinned, wiping the wet blood on the side of her armor, "And I'm poking fingers in myself to assess damage. You can't tell how bad a wound is unless you properly examine it, and just looking is rarely enough when it goes deeper than just the skin. Wanna see?"

She shuffled a bit on the table, pointing the wound at the man.

"Anyway, you never have to worry with me around when it comes to blood. I'm good with blood. Now stop that whole oh think of others bs thing. We both know you rarely do that yourself what with being a lovely butthole and all of that."

And now she sighed.

"Look," Scherezade said, "I don't have a zoo, and if I did, I wouldn't keep Lupines in it. You know close to nothing about what you are, and I know people who could help. What you are, makes you a certain kind of special. I need someone who can fix my droids, which you haven't been doing for the last two minutes, and the rest is a great bonus. What are you so worried about, anyway? It's not like this place is the peak of safety or something."
 
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----|---- Playlist --|-- Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter ----|----


Anse growled at her, frustrated enough to have his temper pricked. “First, yes normally I give not a single rat’s ass to what others think. Except in situations where a grown ass lass waltzes up and makes commands to do things tha’ go counter to common fething sense! No one in their ever loving bleeding mind refuses medical treatment nor stands and yanks out said weapon then proceeds to stick fingers in their wound talking like such be normal. What ye did, what ye are doing, is not something most people ever see in any life past or present. So excuse me for treating ye like ye be fething dangerous! And I know ye bloody well are!

He stalked over to her, his eyes blazing gold. “I know exactly what I be lass. Ye can sit up there on your high horse and sniff down at me touting how ‘special’ ye think I be all ye want. Ye can waggle money and make assurances of service and pay therein. However what I know is ye be a thoughtless lass who has no fething clue on just how ye unsettle me. I do not trust ye. Not after ye be looking me over and saying ye can read my blood. Not after ye seem so gods be damned eager to have me follow like a thrice damned puppy eager to lick your leavings.Ye have acted in a manner tha’ breeds no trust. Ye can blame it on me being male, or wolfborne or whatever else. Ye started this lass. Ye acted thus. What assurances do I get eh?

He stalked away from her wanting very much then to throttle her. “Ye could do something to kill me where I stand. I have no avenues to refuse ye and not feel like I be needing to snap at shadows. So aye, I be going with ye, but do not ever expect me ta like being backed into a corner. Ye know nothing on what I do and do not know. Now get! I’m following behind ye just as ye want and if ye prove true? Maybe, just maybe ye might get an apology afterwards.

His anger was a palpable thing. His aura seethed and more, just as Anse was distinct as an entity, so was his wolf that seethed and stalked on the edge of her awareness. The only thing keeping them from going at her was the man himself. Both the man and his wolf wanted very badly to rip her to shreds as the threat they knew she was, but he didn’t. It was that off chance he was wrong. He wouldn’t attack someone innocent, even when they acted in a manner that screamed danger. It started when she so casually called out her blood talent. His worry over his person and the people around him if she got denied.

He felt he was protecting the people around him, even if they didn’t need it. Even if this wasn’t his territory, he acted as if it was and she was the danger trespassing upon it. He wasn’t an idiot, he made the leap from her displayed talent to the fact that she likely could do worse. His wolf was a lot closer within him than one might think. He embraced his nature and let his other half share, even mix for such coexistence. He had pride and contempt for anyone who tried to put him in some special little niche just because he was what he was. He didn’t see himself as different than anyone else and certainly not ‘special’.

Her injury also made things harder. She was a wounded creature who his wolf wanted to rip apart. The sooner she was healed up, the less he’d want to make her bleed more.


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