First Reply Uptown Funk in Zeltros

[Drifter]

OOC - Hi, open to 1 person, the first one to post wins!

Someplace on Zeltros as the result of really stupid, bad decisions...​

​

Under normal circumstances, the man going by the name of 'Drifter' would have been more than curious to explore the present sent of circumstances presented to him here. However, fantasy rarely ever equates reality, and while every red-blooded man, alien, or what-have-you in between likely had a few handcuff fantasies in the back of their head, the one where it resulted in having his wrist handcuffed to a stranger onto a grimy stripper pole was not quite to sort of lead up he'd consider being up to par.

In his fantasy, the setting was a little cleaner, perhaps less cigarillo smoke and maybe a bed with clean sheets -- he did not want to dive into questionable stains that littered the heart-shaped acceleration couch nearby or the Packson Jollock style wallpaper marks that blew up with kaleidoscopic, deathstick high, color with the black lights.

His head felt as if it were being hammered by a dozen pod-racer droids, each trying to fix his head. At least he still had his helm on. Although there were some questionable stains over his armor -- The feth was that on my pants? Do I even want to know? Wait... did someone throw up on me?

It seemed that the chunky remnants on his thigh made him muse if that were the case. As it was, he gave a jiggle of his hand, the weight of it turning his attention to the companion that was now stuck with him in this affair. Everything last night was a haze of booze, maybe some spice, and Zeltron pheromones. The last time he'd been on Zeltros had been when he was a teen. All hormones. Excited to see people a little less clothed that didn't require an encrypted holonet access, and curious about what just made him tick. He'd surprisingly left it without sinking into libertine vices, but didn't mean he didn't wonder how that could change if given another chance.

Alex told him this was a bad idea. He didn't listen, leaving her behind on the ship. Now that he was stuck here in feth knows where on Zeltros, he knew that as soon as she heard about it, the droid was going to give him shit.

[ Oi! You! Wake up! ] He gave the handcuffs another jangle, his voice modulated by his helm.

​

 

[Leea Pandac]

Leea felt something pull tightly on her wrist. The second stimulus that entered her addled brain was the rank odour of her environment. She almost retched at the stench, it reminded her of the officer barracks on Makeb after a long weekend. For a moment, she actually believed she was back on her homeworld, preparing to clean up after the officers as punishment for some mistake on her part. The sounds that followed though broke the illusion. The unnatural sounds were from a world unlike hers, and she had this instinctive feeling that lanced through her foggy mind that this was not home. She heard words, but they were gibberish. She tried to focus but discovered quite quickly that it was a mistake, her mind was racked with sharp pains, unlike anything she had experienced before.

Her eyes refused to obey her, but she fought through the pain in her head to try and remember something about the previous night. It seemed as if the night had passed in a blur, yet as she turned her will to specific points it seemed some of her memories grew clearer. She had been on leave, some of her fellow squadmates, new ones of course, had somehow convinced her to join in a little bar hopping. She didn't remember ordering any drinks though...

She focused, willing her eyes to obey her mind's commands. Her rattled brain began to clear as her stinging eyes opened and she took in her surroundings. She was horrified to discover she was in some sort of suite. Leea closed her eyes again, hoping this was some sort of nightmare, but found after expending more effort to reopen them she was still in the same place. Scanning the room she caught sight of her armour, neatly folded with the helmet sitting atop it in a far corner, only recognizable by the unique symbol emblazoned on the brow. About it were sprawled miscellaneous clothes of varying colours. After a moment her mind clicked and she quickly gazed down at her body. She was unsure whether to be gladdened or concerned that she was clothed in an overly large gown of seemingly lavish design, baggy and flowing over her limbs. Leea wondered if she could disappear into the great folds of cloth. She felt her mind clearing itself of the fog as she continued to lackadaisically scan the room. She was already beginning to formulate her response to the sergeant's questions when she returned late to duty.

"Where...? Who...?" her voiced croaked as she found her voice. It was a moment later she noticed the handcuff on her wrist and across from her another person. Shocked, she pulled away, recalling too late the handcuff trapped her in place. "Who... you?"

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

[ oh good— you’re awake! ] the modulated voice would go drifting over to Leea Pandac , the man attempting to jiggle his sole wrist and arm to get a better look at who his companion - for better or worse - was for the evening. Or day? Afternoon? Feth if he knew, there were no windows in this blasted place!

If he still had his right arm, he’d have lifted it up to give a wiggle of his fingers in hello. Since that option was off the table, he ended up having to twist his torso to get a better look. That polarized helm would reflect Leea Pandac ’s bedraggled image back to her. Not the prettiest sight after a night of— well whatever that was!

Now as for the who? [Names Drifter. Who are you?] now that was settled, onward!

Important things had to be considered. Like the fact the green girl with tattoos on her face wasn’t wearing anything but a fancy robe reminiscent to some fancy shmancy gown. There was clothing thrown everywhere, and if Drifter didn’t still have his original clothes in, he’d be worried about his -ahem, innocence.

[ You got any idea how we got here? ] he asked her, jingling the handcuffs that clanked against them stripper pole. Leea Pandac , sadly get a whiff of vomit soon enough. The lovely aroma would originate from Drifter’s pants.

[or where in the nine hells are we?]

 

[Leea Pandac]

"Is that a droid?" Leea contemplated, hearing the strange tone the modulation lend to his voice. Her eyes locked onto to the glistening helmet as it swung around to face her. She felt a wave of nausea pass through her and forced herself to focus on her compatriot's helmet in the hops of not regurgitating whatever she might or might not have had the previous evening. "Was it last evening?" Her last foggy memory before oblivion seemed an eternity ago and she wondered how long she had been out.

"How... why am I cuffed to a droid?" Her thoughts seemed to be running ahead of her, every time she tried to reign them in it felt like an artillery battery went off in her head. She wondered if the droid could hear it, the pounding of the heavy guns as they fired on some distant target, or was she on the receiving end of the fire?

The droid offered its name, asking for hers in return. The first words began to escape her mind and exit through her voice, "Funny name..." Her mind seemed to trap the rest and finished in thought alone, "...for a droid." She tried again to recall what had led to the previous evening, almost forgetting the droid's question. Faces, lots of strange faces. She remembered singing... or was it dancing? Either way, she wasn't good at it and a feeling of embarrassment had taken over. After that... her head started pounding again.

Snapping back to the droid she replied slowly, as if each pronounced syllable was a labour to produce, "Lee-ah." It seemed the droid was more mentally aware, what a strange thought, than Leea. She had barely managed to complete her own name, only half of which came out of her mouth, before Drifter had moved on to new questions. The jingling of the cuff was like glass shattering in her ears. She instinctively raised her free hand to cover one ear and tried to move the other to mirror.

Whether the hand movement had forced a draft or her nose had perhaps adjusted to the environmental smell, Leea was soon stuck once more by a powerful pungent odour. She felt her stomach heave as she breathed in and again felt a wave of nausea. She turned to the droid and realized a moment later where the smell originated. She noted vomit on the legs of the droid, wondering if there were similar stains on the dress she wore. As she stared at the discoloured spots, Leea was caught by the sudden awareness that the legs were cloth and did not show the signs of a metal skeleton beneath. Her head snapped up, almost sending her flat on her back as she felt momentum desire to carry her head further, and she noticed her companion's helmet for what it was.

His questions came soon thereafter and, realizing she was not in the presence of a droid but an actual person, she tried to answer more effectively. She took a deep breath, regretting it almost immediately as the noxious smells filled her lungs, before coughing. She felt like the pain wouldn't stop, but as it subsided she found some inner reserve of strength and drew upon it to force a coherent statement from her recalcitrant lips, "I do not know, tell me. Zeltros?" She theorized, in a moment of clarity, that perhaps this person had more awareness of the past occurrences than she did, of course, it was equally possible they were both unaware of what had transpired previously.

 

[Drifter]

Well, at least she wasn't a screamer. Drifter mused, glad that Leea Pandac wasn't the sort to start yelling and panicking due to their precious, confusing set of circumstances. Of course, his internal gratefulness only turned into perplexity when she insinuated he was a droid.

Any man would have taken offense! Nevermind how it was a sensible determination based on his armor and the use of his helm. [ Droid? Who you callin' a droid?] he began, defending his manhood, honor, and well, organic bits. Not that there was anything wrong with being a droid. He just was a little sensitive considering he only had one arm and had yet to figure out what to do with the missing one. It would make sense to replace it with a cybernetic. Certainly, his parents did their best to let him know they would do what they could. Even clone him a new arm should he wish it.

Stubbornness and pride had a price; as did running away from home.

However, this was quickly diverted from his mind when the girl began to have a coughing fit that was wretched enough to make his own eyes water. Oh, no. Nono. Nononono no! Inari bless me, please tell me she is not going to throw up.

One very annoying bit of information with Drifter since he was a boy was this -- he was a terrible sympathy pucker. Nevermind that his helm filtered out any of the unholy, acrid, bile inducing scents of the vomit on his pants, it was imply seeing and hearing the noises of anyone vomiting that would trigger his diaphragm into convulsing.

[ Oh hell... don't... just... try not to throw up okay. Just... breathe. Yeah, breathe. You know, ] gesturing with his handcuffed hand in frantic encouragement, already his own mouth began to water, and he could feel nausea rise with each hacking cough. [ swallow anything that might come up, please.] very rarely did the man beg. This was a moment in time when a man had every right to beg. The last thing he needed was to end up hurling into his own helm and being sloshed about in the face with his own puke, unable to remove it because his one good fething arm was handcuffed to the Mirilan and the stripper pole.

Small blessings came and Lady Luck managed to let him off the hook. Leea didn't puke!

Either way, he managed to get a name out of her. Well, that's one piece of information. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to mesh with the haze in his mind regarding last night's -- day, afternoon's? - shenanigans. Leea was part of the equation and now it was a matter of figuring out where in the puzzle she fit into it.

[ And yeah, point to you, we are somewhere on Zeltros, but I am not quite sure where. ] he added, trying this best to get a closer inspection of where they were, and what handcuffs they had on. They were bright purple fuzzy ones. What did you even do to get here?

[ Uhh...Leea...you wouldn't happen to have a key would you?] never hurt to ask. Besides, if she was going to dry heave again, he had to get out of this mess so he wouldn't get triggered to join her.

 

[Leea Pandac]

Leea was uncertain whether to be touched or offended by this person's, man's?, begging her not to vomit. Her hazy mind decided to grant him the benefit of the doubt. Indeed, predisposed towards trust, Leea would probably have been unable to tell the difference between the truth and a lie in her current circumstances, let alone achieve some insight into a person's motives.

Moving past the momentary uncertainty, she realized with no small degree of disappointment that her fellow captive appeared to be equally uncertain about what series of occurrences had culminated in their current predicament. She was certain she had not met this person before, but that hardly seemed a pertinent fact at the moment. Briefly, she wondered if she had been drugged, but then a bit of her mind decided to chime in with the fact that Zeltros was probably a planet filled with airborne drugs, what with the natives' pheromones.

A moment later she felt as if a fog lifted from her mind. Her eyes seemed to clear and she began to notice little details previously overlooked. It was a mixed blessing, her environment was worse than she had previously believed or noticed. As the various possible reasons for her current situation began to filter through her conscious mind, and a dull pain continued to beat on her brain, Leea felt about to break down. She was such a long way from home, all the stresses of combat and life as a traveller were weighing on her and her will to suppress the fears and anguish was wearing thin. For a moment, staring at the heart-shaped couch covered in stains of unknowable and likely unspeakable origin, she felt her lips quiver slightly.

Leea was abruptly reminded of her situation when Drifter asked another question. Determined not to breakdown in public, especially in front of a stranger in these circumstances, the young Mirialan tightened her jaw, grinding her teeth and focusing on the pain in her forehead to push out the thoughts and ghosts that haunted her. She waited a moment, not enjoying the pain as some might have, but relishing the fact that she was not about to cry. Finally relaxing, Leea reprocessed the question and asked, breath somewhat laboured, "You mean you don't..."

Without finishing her question, Pandac began to pat herself down, hoping that perhaps somewhere in these great and useless folds of material there would be a key, a piece of hard metal in the midst of the soft and pliable cloth. It was an awkward movement, fighting with one hand to feel the material, she could not hope to reach certain areas on her back and side with only one free hand.

"Do you think you cou-" she cut herself off as she realized her compatriot was missing a limb. Not only that, his remaining hand was the one cuffed with hers, greatly reducing his helpfulness in the search. "Never mind." Leea wondered briefly if she could break the cuffs, but as she gave them an experimental pull she could feel the unyielding mass hidden under the giving fluff. If she had her knife she was sure she could have leveraged the links of the chain. But, as it was, she didn't see how they would escape without the key.

After a few moments, she felt like she had covered as much of the dress as she believed possible, and she turned her attention to looking on the ground. The dimly lit room was hardly the best place to look for something so small, but she gave it her best. "Do you think that could be it?" She pointed, first with her cuffed hand and then with her free one, at a small matte object partially obscured by a piece of sheer clothing.

 

[Drifter]

Oh no, it was getting worse. The panic in his chest grew worse, making his heart jumpstart into a hot mess. There it was; the quivering lower lip, the blanching of her face, the glimmer over her eyes. It was all this combination of subtle nuances that he could pick up even in the dim light. That's what happened when one was fluent in a kinetic language. He was raised by a Lorrdian, knew the tells and signs that could indicate lies and truths just by mere body language alone. Right now, what those few clues were telling him was that this was going to get worse than potentially hurling her guts.

Oh feth me, she's not going to cry is she? If there was another weakness Drifter had, were the tears of a woman. Could not stand them. It made him panic, twisted his gut, and made him try to do his best to cheer them up by cracking the most obnoxious and likely improper sort of verbal jokes.

[ Hey, hey hey... it's cool... It's fine... if... you want to throw up...just... kinda do it on the far side... quietly... maybe? Oh Inari take it, please just for my own sake I don't want to end up sympathy hurling when I can't even take off my helm. ] the man's modulated voice would plea, his voice a mix of an attempt at making a joke and being half-serious. If he had to deal between tears and vomit, he'd pick vomit any day.

[ Well.. just... figure things out. ] he assured her, even though he wasn't sure how much his word was worth in this case. His memory was hazy and it seemed Leea Pandac 's was too.

At her gesture towards something shiny in the din of the overhead lighting, Drifter immediately swung his attention over to it. Anything that could speed their escape.

[ Oh right! Let me try a hand at that. ] he made a self-deprecating joke because clearly, the only one that he had was the one handcuffed. [ So Lee-ah, what you do? You come to Zeltros on your own, or did you manage to fall off the cruise ship accidentally?] another bad attempt at a joke. He began to try and extend his right foot to see if he could reach.

He only did this for the comedic effect. Honestly, he could have used telekinesis but making a fool out of himself to get a woman to focus on something else was a small price on his pride to pay. His leg would extend, wiggle, pat his toe to try and make contact along with the slippery fabric that it hid under.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure if it was a -- Wait. He suddenly jerked his head, eyeballing as he felt the small metal item slide a little closer. HIs heartbeat spiked

Well shit, maybe it is a key!

 

[Leea Pandac]

Leea appreciated her compatriot's concern, she did not consider that he might not be entirely concerned with her situation for herself. She nonetheless attempted to hold a steady face, feeling that her emotions were running rampant. A part of her suggested it was a side-effect of something, whatever had caused the headache and fogginess of mind. She was uncertain whether this was true, but she steeled herself for more.

It appeared she had made some positive contribution, as Drifter shifted his attention to the little object she had seen. His joke, while amusing, was somewhat lost on Leea as she was attempting to focus her attention to identifying how to escape and, perhaps more importantly, pierce the veil shrouding the previous night. She decided it was best to conclude that it had only been a night, fearing what the consequences would be if it proved otherwise.

The questions her new companion posed struck Leea at once as belittling. But her snapped response was stalled by a feeling that perhaps his tone was intended to distract her. She forced a thin smile to her lips, giving herself a chance to try and gather thoughts to respond. "I am a member of the Foreign Expeditionary Force..." She cut herself off from continuing down the boring route of her position and job within the rather dull military structure. However, she did continue as a thought dawned on her, escaping through her mouth, "Or, I might be. We were here on weekend leave. May have left already."

Trying to shift the focus away from her, she followed with her own questions, "And what about you? What are you doing here? Where are you from?" Watching as the man tried to reach out for the key, Leea thought at first it was a rather amusing sight, but then she realized it made sense. He was missing an arm and his leg could reach further than her free, given how much taller he was. Or at least, she imagined he was taller, most people she encountered were taller than her, it had become something of a natural assumption on her part.

Seeing him suddenly respond to touching the object, Leea felt no small amount of excitement fill her as she hoped to at least get free of this uncomfortable situation, "Is it...?"

 

[Drifter]

Oh good, score two on not getting any tears. Not that he wasn't sympathetic; just that a crying woman only would stress him out more and draw his focus on trying to cheer her up rather than the present situation.

Needless to say, the stretch of the leg would stop, and instead, he began to give little grunts. Grunts because instead of using his leg, now he was trying to twist and wiggle his right hand within the confines of the fuzzy handcuffs to direct the use of the force. Unlike Esme, he never managed to be able to telekinetically move things with his mind without providing some sort of conduit by using his hands. Which meant trying to use telekinesis to get that shiny bit of all sorts of hopeful possibles depended on him being able to use his fingers.

UGH. Again, why it was annoying to only have one arm. He was really starting to question his sanity on being so stubborn to not just get a prosthetic. Pride. Yup. Red-blood, male pride.

[ I... ahh. ] he began to respond, mid half making half straining grunts to get his hand to twist and turn. A failed attempt at a wiggle of fingers. [ Oh, come on! ] he cried out in frustration, only to pan over to Leea Pandac , apologizing [ Oh sorry, not to you... just.. trying to work on getting this here. ]

[ Was trying to get some info... the last thing I remember was stepping into Club Blush. ] Blush has been a consistently popular establishment located in the seedy Indigo District of Zeltros, existing as a mix between a night club and a Gentleman’s club. It’s known for its provocatively dressed waitresses and skimpy, occasionally nude dancers.

[ Well not from around here. This is only my second time on Zeltros. ] That was a freebie. Another grunt and then a muttered, [ Come on... just need... too...] he managed a rather painful twist of his wrist. He could only hold it for so long. A wag of his fingers and the rush of the Force. The tiny glittering bit of metal trembled, before shooting closer over towards the man's leg. It hit his thigh with a plop, before scattering.

IT WAS A KEY!

[ Oh thank Inari! ] he exclaimed, suddenly nodding over to her. [ Can you get that? I'm a little.. well tied up at the moment. ]

Now for the moment of truth! Was it the right key?

 

[Leea Pandac]

Leea repressed a sigh when Drifter pulled his foot back. Guess it must have been something else. Her theory appeared to be supported when her companion began to struggle against the restraints. "Do you think they can break?"

As he continued and eventually vented some minor amount of frustration, Leea shrugged. She tried to distance herself emotionally from the situation, pushing away distractions much as she had been taught to do on the battlefield. "No problem."

The cogs began to whirl in Leea's mind as Drifter explained his reasons for being here. Who could have done this? More importantly why? Leea did not feel like she was particularly important enough of a person to be targetted by anything approximating a criminal organization. Like most armed forces across the galaxy, she had been taught of the dangers of loose lips and, depending on the world, impersonation. Maybe someone had wanted to infiltrate her transport, but then leaving her uniform behind was a foolish move. She turned her head to look at the disguised appearance of Drifter . Maybe I am not the target at all? Getting information on a world like sounds like underworld stuff. Leea was still young enough to remember the evenings she had spent reading and watching the pulp holos about spies doing shady business, getting captured by enemies and forced into comedic or dire situations. She had assumed that such things were only the work of fiction, but now? She was less certain of the fact.

She had heard of Club Blush, if only through the whispers of her more licentious comrades, the ones she had actively avoided travelling with on leave. She didn't think she would have visited such an environment, at least not without some outside influence... That did cause some concern. Nonetheless, it seemed like the prime location for some illicit deal going bad. "What sort of info were you looking for?" She was fishing, hoping he might give something that might at least lean into her hypothesis.

The imaginary context she had developed was shaken and utterly destroyed when Drifter seemed to shift his fingers rather oddly. At first, she thought he had somehow found a way to slip his hand out of the cuff. She was about to ask if he could teach her to do that, it might be a rather niche trick, but something to have in case she ever had a run in local authorities... or trapped in a similar situation... But then she caught the flicker of movement as the object she had pointed to flew from its location and bumped into Drifter's leg.

"You're a Jedi?!" Unable to contain her shock, Lea's voice rose a pitch and decibel or two. She had grown up on tales of the Force of course, most civilized planets had their myths and stories. As far as she was concerned, Jedi was the catch-all term. Good, bad, neither, they were all Jedi. She had heard legends of the great powers a Jedi commanded, breaking doors down with a thought, turning friends into enemies, and even controlling life and death. They were mighty warriors, epic heroes, and horrible monsters. Which was Drifter? Leea wondered if that was one of the reasons they were in their current situation. In any case, she was concerned now, Jedi were dangerous; most of the stories she knew ended with the people around them having died or been forced to make great sacrifices.

The key was another matter. She was no longer certain it was necessary and she was hesitant to touch it now. After the key had been called by Drifter, it looked like it might have struck right where the vomit had been. Leea was somewhat unsettled by the thought of having to pull a key from a gob of vomit from some unknown person. She hoped it wasn't hers. "Can't you just break these with your powers?" She stayed still, not wanting to risk reaching into some unknown being's vomit without absolute necessity.

 

[Drifter]

Drifter wasn't surprised; Force users were but drop in the pond when it came to the total population of the galaxy. Many would live their lives without dealing with a Force-sensitive, let alone someone trained unless they interacted with one of the major Force Organizations. However, when she asked if he was a Jedi, he was glad that his helm prevented her from seeing that twitch along his jaw.

A Jedi -- Not quite.

[ Not.... quite. ] that was the answer to just breaking the cuffs, choosing to not answer that question and divert to to more pressing matters -- like the key [ Being able to use the Force doesn't mean I've the strength of a Besalisk. Nor does it make my wrist invulnerable. I'd likely end up ripping my wrist off!] he told her, doing a comedic attempt of using his knee, slash leg to try and wiggle it closer to Leea Pandac . Nevermind the chunky sticky after-effects that still clung to his pants. Besides -- it was the only wrist and hand he had left. It served very important purposes regarding destressing and he was not going to risk it.

A few more grunts, and another wiggle of his hips. Really, now he was looking like a worm with the way he was shimmying. But what else was he to do? His one hand was cuffed up and he couldn't even get his fingers to point properly to use telekinesis.

[ Could you... just... grab it? ] he inquired, a bit of frustration growing in his voice. [ I think you can barely reach it. ] another nudge. Another whiff of vomit.

 

[Leea Pandac]

"Alright, alright. Give me a sec." Leea spoke with a hint of fear in her voice. Drifter was more powerful than he let on, of that she was certain. All Jedi were. Nonetheless, she decided to play along for now. At least it might keep her from being on the recieving end of whatever wrathful destruction he might contain.

Taking a deep breath, she coughed harshly as the stench of vomit wafted in her direction. For a few moments she was racked by a coughing fit. After she felt her diaphram concluding its convulsions, she flashed Drifter an apologetic look before moving to grab the key.

This proved a more difficult action than Leea had anticipated. She stepped towards Drifter, lowering her free hand towards his thigh. She found herself somewhat less prepared for the total movement and had to wrestle a moment with the cuff to rotate her arm. The irritating clanging from the cuff bouncing around her ears. She stopped a moment from grabbing the key and asked, trying to distract herself as she reached out, "What sort of information is a Jedi looking for on a world like Zeltros?"

With a single determined movement, Leea swiped her hand through the vomit, smearing it as she latched onto the single piece of hardened material. Gripping the simple piece with all that she could manage, Leea yanked her hand free and felt the substance fly from her hand striking somewhere in the gown she wore. Wiping the key in the folds for a moment she looked hopefully up at her compatriot.

Raising the key to the binders, she fought the instinct to test herself, deciding instead to release the Jedi first. She did not want to run the risk of offending Drifter, at least no more so than she might already have done. She pushed the key into its little spot, feeling it fit about right. She hoped it was the right key... With a twist of the wrist she heard a click.

 

[Drifter]

[ Looking.... for... oh fe--] and so, began the coughing fits.

It wasn't the most prideful point of the night-- that Drifter knew of. When Leea Pandac began her coughing fit, seeing her chest flex and bend as the terrible shudders of nausea wracked her body, he couldn't help himself. The jig was up.

He started coughing as well. It was evident that her dry heaving and coughs seemed to only trigger him. The man had to twist his torso away, his own diaphragm protesting savagely, sending spittle, and a series of wracking coughs. Enter a bit of dry heaving too. It was likely one of the more embarrassing scenes for the man.

At least he didn't puke.

Never mind her questions. The Mirialan had the sympathetic and good sense to release him first. Never was he as glad for getting his arm back as the binder cuffs. [ Thank Inari! ] he exclaimed, only to wince and groan at the pain of feeling the blood rush back through his arm. The muscles were stiff and sore. [ Oh feth, does that hurt! ] Okay, so maybe he was a little bit of a man child.

Another dramatic show, a shake of his arm and wrist. Oh wait, the woman was still here. [ Oh, right, let's see if the key can get you out! ] he inquired, shuffling close. Again, another waft of hours long vomit.

Hilariously, he had the gall to say, [ Please try not to dry heave again. I'm a sympathy puker. It would not be pretty. ] even through the modulated voice, one could tell that he was being quite serious with his plea. None the less, he went crouching down to get a peek at her bindings, single palm extended for the key.

 

[Leea Pandac]

This man was quite a mystery, Leea was uncertain whether to believe if the Jedi was faking coughs to get out of answering her question, or if he was actually so easily affected. Deciding to take the bait and assume the fit was real enough, she tried to make it appear as if she had not noticed. If he was faking it, perhaps there was a reason he wished to keep his reasons secret and she elected to drop the subject. At least for now.

He seemed to have real enough reactions to being released. Leea could almost imagine him rubbing his wrist with his other, nonexistent hand. Drifter did not fit the imaginary profile she classified Jedi and perhaps that was a good thing. If he were a regular Jedi, he might have responded more ruthlessly to her ineptitudes. As it was, this person seemed more normal, if there was such a thing as normal in the galaxy. She wondered if he was something other than the average Jedi. She decided to speak her thought, wanting to try and judge his response, "You're an odd Jedi aren't you?"

He seemed kind enough, a bit absorbed at times. Hardly the paragon of good or evil she was used to thinking in terms of when imagining Jedi. Even as he shuffled closer, Leea was momentarily thankful that she was still clothed, even if it was not her clothing and that brought up all sorts of questions she didn't really want to get into. If she had been in a less dressed state, she might have been far more hesitant to accept Drifter's act of kindness for what it appeared to be. Her experiences with the various armed forces were less than stellar when it came to interactions between the sexes and it stuck with her. The smell that wreathed Drifter was strong, but this time Leea was prepared for it and about to act as normally as possible. She prepared to imagine other places and her travels, distracting herself from the odour.

However, when Drifter made his request, Leea suddenly felt like she was being pressed a bit much. Surely this man, Jedi or not, understood she would try her best not to react to the smell. It's not like it is any nicer for me. She was beginning to prepare some snarky response when a thought from some mischevous side of her mind came to the front. Was it cruel, probably. She couldn't explain why she decided to follow on the plan. Perhaps it was some part of her wanting to get back at this man, as if he somehow was responsible for this degrading event. Maybe it was a desire to have something to laugh at, something to break the tension building up inside her. Or, possibly it was some desire to see a Jedi, a being of nigh-infinite power and majesty in her mind, suffer some minor indignity. If she had thought further, or been in a better state of mind, Leea might have decided against it, in fact, she definitely would have.

She forced a somewhat pained expression as she replied, "I'll try." She dropped the key into the waiting hand before stiffening. Tightening her abdomen, she made the movement of a retch, just once. Raising her hand she made to appear she was covering her mouth in case something did come up, but wanted to ensure her grin wouldn't be so visible. The glint in her eyes was harder to conceal, but perhaps it could be mistaken for the beginning of tears. She spoke between her fingers, unable to fully contain her amusement, "Sorry!" The word came in amidst stifled laughter, although the spasms of her diaphram might easily be misinterpreted.

 

[Drifter]

Well if Leea Pandac wanted a reaction, she got it. It was rather immediate. The mock retching prompted the man to move so fast away from the Mirialan onto hand and knees to quite literally, start dry heaving on his own. The key fell on the floor, into the vomit pool again. So much for getting Leea out of her cuffs.

[ Oh... oh hel--urrg... urrcghh. ]

He hadn't been kidding. He is a sympathy puker. While he couldn't smell the vomit that surrounded them, merely hearing and seeing her retch was enough to evoke a mirrored response.

Drifter felt the spasms wrack his body, coughing and diaphragm protesting with violent shudders, the [ uuuuucghh.. urrccgch, URRREGGCH ] sounds of his misery filling the room.

Nevermind the muffled laughter coming from Leea. This was serious!

Don'tthrowup!Don'tthrowupdon'tthrowup!

It was a plea to the Moross gods in the hopes he could get his breathing settled. Here's to hoping the wretched woman enjoyed her little trick!

 

[Leea Pandac]

It was a most entertaining sight... For the first ten seconds. Leea had not expected such a visceral response. She wasn't a naturally malicious person and it showed.

At first, the laugh was difficult to keep hidden, but it evaporated along with her smile as she watched Drifter pull away and fall to the ground, seemingly ready to start vomiting himself. A look of concern crossed her face as she instinctively reached out as if to grab hold of Drifter from pretty far away and pat him on the back, "Hey, hey! I'm sorry! It was just a joke..." Her voice died away as the thought heralded the arrival of guilt.

Things were starting to look better. Why'd you have to go and mess it all up? She continued to berate herself, filling her mind with insults directed inwards. She was distracted for a few moments while she attempted to reestablish her emotional equilibrium. She now knew it was a mistake, what she had done, but she reminded herself it was not the worst thing possible. At least for now it looked liked Drifter would live, if somewhat uncomfortably.

Racking her mind, she thought back to some of the stories about the Jedi, perhaps he used the same techniques as they did. Wanting to make up for what she did, Leea tried to help the only way she could in her status still held by the cuff."Hey, keep it down, focus on your breathing. Jedi do that to meditate right? Calm your emotions." She hoped he would be okay, although she found herself fascinated to see how a Jedi would handle this situation. And a little concerned she might have stepped over the line.

 

[Drifter]

It took a bit to realize Leea Pandac had been playing a joke on him. Normally, the prankster in him would have been hooting in hilarity, however, right now, his empty stomach was not so enthused.

Her laughter would echo throughout the room, resonating in his ears. It provoked his frustration, which led, towards fueling his anger that after he told her the reason why she'd play such a mean trick. And for what? No reason? It aggravated him. Then came her chime to focus on his breathing and calm his emotions.

Woman, you made me almost hack up a lung! Try to breathe when your diaphragm is trying to shove your stomach up and out of your throat! At least that was what Drifter was thinking, still coughing, spittle lining the inside of his helm, the gagging, and shuddering of his shoulders continuing.

The presence of his uncle grew. The Darkside curling up, coiling, tensing. Needing to lash out. Anger. Payback. Needless to say, the end result turned into a rush of the Force, the man rolling back onto his ass and then suddenly swinging his sole arm in a sweep of telekinetic energy towards Leea Pandac , an unconscious and angry manifestation of the Force intended to make the Mirialan feel as if shoved back by an intangible force.

 

[Leea Pandac]

It seemed pretty bad. Leea had been really sick before. She remembered the first time she was put into a zero-g training sphere being a pretty bad one. She had spent the next week cleaning the training sphere as punishment. Now she never ate big meals when deployed in space. But she had never met anybody who was so easily set off. "Take off your helmet!" She hoped it would at least keep him from having to breathe in his own vomit fumes after he was done, and hopefully save him the effort of having to clean out a helmet.

Leea's concern grew as it seemed Drifter might continue on into a fit. She hoped he wouldn't need medical attention, she wasn't trained and more importantly she couldn't get help. Don't die on me now! She started looking for the key, having missed seeing where it landed earlier and now fearing it had fallen outside of her reach.

Her concerns about Drifter's health melted away as he swung his hand around and she felt like an invisible being propelled her backwards. At first, she just rolled back, her body reacting utilizing the training she had received. She might have rolled back onto her feet if she had travelled that far, instead she was struck back, the massive dress billowing outwards in all directions, making her appear to all the world like a massive rose with a small green centre. Her backwards momentum was suddenly arrested by the cuff and her arm it still held. She felt a heavy strain on her wrist, followed by a loud pop. Pain blazed up her arm and into her brain, warning her of the new injury. Leea found herself unable to stifle a cry of pain, but trying nonetheless. With her other hand, she pushed herself upright, relieving the tension on her chained arm, feeling with each minor movement a stinging.

I guess I deserved that. She looked towards Drifter , hoping that perhaps that little outburst had been enough for him. She was certainly reminded why she didn't mess around with Jedi. They were dangerous and quick to anger. She just hoped this wouldn't turn into a homicidal rage, like some of the darker tales she had been told, usually to keep her in line when she was younger.

 

[Drifter]

It happened so fast. The surge of the Darkside of the Force, the slap of the telekinetic wave, the cry of Leea Pandac 's pain, and Drifter barely managing to calm down his coughing.

As soon as he heard that cry of pain, it was as if he'd been slapped with awareness. Shame rose. Guilt. As did a sense of righteous indignation and satisfaction that he'd made his position known. The former was the clash of his conscience battling the latter, the part of him tainted by the presence of his uncle's Sith Spirit imprinted in his body.

Anger rose. Not at the Mirialan, but at himself. At his lack of control. By the time he'd managed to regulate his breathing, lungs, and chest burning as if in pain, head pounding, he was well on his way into being dragged into the gauntlet of a guilt trip. His mother would have been disappointed.

Fucccck.

[ Sorry. ] came his weak apology, barely lifting a hand as if to gesture towards her but only managed to have it sail down limply by his side. He was in a sitting position now, regulating his breathing. Breathe. The inside of his helm had a sheen of spit splatter from his dry heaving. For now, he could still see through it.

[ I'm sorry ] he repeated, [ You just caught me --] a grimace, a sudden pause. Hell. He'd remove his helm but if he did so and caught a whiff of the vomit, he was really going to hurl. No, best not risk it. He could deal with the splatter for now.

Crawling back over to her - he did his best to look for the key. [ Don't do that again unless you are really gonna throw up. I wasn't kidding. I will hurl and if I have to, I'll do it on you. ] he was still frustrated with her, and while the threat was there, it likely wouldn't come to fruition. For now, his goal was to get the hell out of wherever this was and get back to the ship.

He found the key again, grimacing at the sticky substance. Once again, the acidic aroma of vomit came wafting over towards Leea. Drifter wiped the key along his pants and bent to see if the key fit in her bindings.

 

[Leea Pandac]

Leea heard his apology, but she didn't feel capable of quite responding. She was resisting the urge to scream, both to save face and for fear that it might be something else that triggered Drifter . She laid back, settling as best she could to relieve pressure from her wrist. Tentatively she probed the wrist, feeling for broken bones. She didn't know what it was like to break a bone, a fortune that seemed less impressive when her squadmates took great pride in their past injuries. Thus, Leea was uncertain what to feel for and just guessed. Nothing appeared to be especially mobile or disconnected, so she hypothesized her wrist was not broken. Maybe dislocated?

She managed to push words out after Drifter's warning, "Alright. I promise not to fake it."

Leea was about to start pushing herself back into a sitting position when she saw him coming back, with the key and his pants still covered in a film of vomit. As he bent down to check the key's shape, she momentarily caught sight of them and thought they looked close enough. She wished the cuffs had been standard issue binders, there were some simpler methods of getting out of those and she had no doubt her compatriot was at least somewhat versed in thos methodologies. Then it came. A small warning in her head told her she wouldn't be able to hold it. She barely managed to spit her own warning, "Cover your ears!"

The smell returned in new strength, and her body seemed unable to hold it this time. Perhaps the injury had pushed her past the limit. Whatever the reason, Leea felt her stomach convulse, and she knew this time it was for real. She rolled onto her arm, feeling the pained wrist shriek through her neurons angrily at the mistreatment, and pulled wildly with her free hand to drag some of the folds of the oversized gown to mask her face from Drifter's view. Both to avoid direct humiliation and in the vain hope that it might not set him off. This left her in a rather precarious position, the dress barely keeping her decent as it was dragged upwards over her torso. She laid there a moment, feeling her chest spasm before she opened her mouth and let loose. At first, it felt like there might be a lot to release, chunks of mysterious food and strangely coloured fluids poured over the floor, pooling around her nose and soaking into the dress. Leea was surprised, she did not remember eating anything last night. But then, as quickly and suddenly as it started, so the vomitting ended. At least regugitating actual foodstuffs ended, she continued to retch and bile flowed freely.

It did not last long, although to Leea it felt like hours. She managed to finally stem the flow of drool, swiping at her face to wipe away the remanent from her lips, wishing she could cleanse the acrid taste from her mouth and the burning sensation from her throat. Through the tears that blurred her sight, she gently pushed the dress to look back at Drifter, hoping wearily that he had managed to save himself.