Private Way Back Home

[Yuri Maji]

Kestri | Tor Valum
Tags: Vara Rasha

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Theme​

The Hound awoke to a cold bed and silent house once again, another day of worry after another restless night. When she mentioned going on a light recon mission for training, he didn't expect it to turn into a situation that warranted the entire fleet's appearance. He felt like a coward for not going after them... perhaps he was. A sensible man would've pursued after the fleet to catch up. Done whatever he could to get his girl back home.

But someone had to say behind, make sure there was a home to return to.

After finishing up, he locked his arm in place and left for his shift at the bar. Whenever he wasn't busy at the factory, he was helping out at the tavern to sling drinks and straighten out troublesome customers. A welcome distraction from the shot nerves and heavy heart, even if only for a few minutes. Any hope of receiving comms of Vara's condition was left behind, the fleet wouldn't be answering any calls in a warzone. He feared for the worst, it was simply second nature for the Hound. It always ended badly for him.

A customer dragged him back to reality. An empty smile that didn't reach his eyes was adorned, a joke cracked and a drink dispensed for a table of thirsty warriors. It was a slow morning and it was going to stay slow as long as the fleet was gone. He hated the waiting, even as a child the days, or weeks, spent waiting for his mother to return nearly burnt a hole in his stomach.

Another drink was poured, this time for himself. Something to stir the brain cells awake and tell the heart to shut up. "Another day in paradise..." He grumbled to himself, idly watching the two occupied tables close to the fireplace.

 

[Vara Rasha]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Shukur Kyr'bes Tavern
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

Shore leave.

First one ever for Vara, and the blasted shuttle just could not land any quicker. The Sundari Memorial Spaceport grew larger in the viewports, yet every second of the otherwise routine descent seemed determined to drag on forever. The sole of her boot tapped the durasteel floor, a tempo growing more and more impatient ever since the planet snapped into view from outer space.

Sitting still was becoming a challenge unlike any other, until a familiar shudder rolled through the shuttle’s frame, following a series of mechanical whirrs and a soft hydraulic hiss somewhere deeper in the ship. The landing struts deployed, and firmly pressed against the landing pad.

The ship’s thrusters began to wind down with a dying whine a moment later.

They were here!

The Harpy bolted up from her seat, her seatbelt undone in a heartbeat. Shooting past her kin, still in the process of getting up from their seats and collecting their belongings from overhead bins and holds, she cut toward the cargo ramp with haste.

Luckily for everyone else aboard, she didn’t have to wait for too long.

Kestri’s bone-chill whipped back her locs and long, black mane. A gentle snowfall began to cling onto her armor. The knee-high Mark of the Hellborn billowed between her thighs with every lash of the wind. She moved, her pace just short of running. The Spaceport became a distant memory with each hurried step.

The city blurred beneath her boots. Before long, Maji Ironworks rose ahead.

The fleabag – her fleabag – had to be in the Ironworks at this time of day. She was growing uncertain by the second as to which gripped her heart the strongest with excitement; seeing the rekindled Warforge in full capacity, producing scores of weapons and gear, or seeing his kissable mug again after what felt like an eternity.

The former was a very close second, but stood no chance against the latter.

A buzz of activity threaded its way to her attention as the Ironworks drew closer with each step. Her footfalls led her through the Ironworks’ open gate. The bristling heat brushed against her armored silhouette as she came to a halt, maw agape under her helmet’s faceplate.

Conveyor belts whirred with purpose, feeding materials to the great forges and on the other end came out weapons, armor and plating in differing – yet orderly – stages of completion. The factory floor was not any less busy. Forge hands moved about, carrying out their assigned tasks of the day to meet ever increasing quotas.

Her gaze shifted to one among them in particular.

Black and brown scorch and soot kissed the man’s armor, particularly focused around the front of his cuirass, gauntlets and the faceplate of his helm. The barrelchested human stood out amongst the rest, built by a lifetime of hammer and steel.

Her lips curled inward and a sharp whistle cut through the din of heavy machinery at the specimen of a man working steel at a lathe. <“Hey! Joe! Where’s he!”> She bellowed over the mechanical whines all around her.

<”Th’ Tavuhn!”> He shouted back, his tone a guttural grumble and groan.

A chuckle poured from her lips. <”Aight! Thanks Joe!”> The broad snapped around, turning to take her leave in a hurry. <”See y’aroun’!”>

<“Alrighuh!”>

The Ironworks disappeared behind her. She cut toward Midtown as streets blurred together; the Broken Skull wasn’t far. Walking quickly proved insufficient. She broke into a sprint. The wind tugged at her mane. The familiar tavern came into view shortly after, and the doors stood before her a moment later. She skidded to a halt just short of barreling through them.

Her heart hammered against her ribs in a dizzying concoction of excitement and exertion. Her breathing sharpened. His familiar, giddy scent reached her snout.

The doors swung open at an impatient push.

She could not wait a second longer.

Her crimson gaze swept the tavern. She found him almost immediately. Behind the counter. Helping himself to a drink. With steps unhurried and measured, she approached.

<”Y’gonna pour me one too? ”> A chuckle rolled from her throat. Gloved hands shot up to the rim of her helm. The seal broke with a soft hiss. Her wind-tousled mane and locs swayed at a shake of her head. Crimsons settled on his mug, wet around the edges. The smile beneath looked entirely too happy for someone trying to play it cool. The dam of emotions in her heart leaked from the cracking timbre of her voice. “Or am I gon’ die of thirst?”


​

 

[Yuri Maji]

The door swung open to draw the attention of all within the tavern, though none of the patrons were as surprised as the Hound when his gaze landed on Vara's form in the door. He paused for a moment, a myriad of emotions taking over as she approached his countertop. Anger, joy, confusion, but surprise was there to stay. He stifled the dumbfounded expression, instead watching her with an unimpressed side-eye in her advance.

<”Y’gonna pour me one too? ”>

“Or am I gon’ die of thirst?”

A scoff escaped past his annoyed frown, though he did take the liberty of pouring a pint of ne'tra gal. "Dunno 'bout thirst. But you'll definitely die of something' if ya slam that door any harder." He remarked, sliding the tankard toward her. He studied her for a moment, golden eyes combing over the various marks and scorches from her most recent escapade. "You bring any souvenirs back with ya at least?" He continued with folded arms and a raised brow.

But the façade couldn't last.

In one motion he slid over the counter and yanked her close for a tight hug. His heart was allowed to finally relax as he held onto Vara for dear life, days of worry and dark thoughts forced aside as he pressed a deep kiss onto her lips. "I have missed you, Cuyan'ika." He muttered softly in her ear, his forehead finding hers with a gentle tap.

She made it home. the curse hadn't reached her just yet.

Vara Rasha

 

[Vara Rasha]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Shukur Kyr'bes Tavern
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

"Dunno 'bout thirst. But you'll definitely die of something' if ya slam that door any harder." He remarked, sliding the tankard toward her.

Vara met his remark with a snort. ”Shut it, schutta. I be payin’ ma’ bills under our roof,” a cackle softer than silk accompanied her words as she caught the pint with an outstretched palm of her hand. ”I can do whatever I want.” She raised the tankard to her lips. A hefty swig left her breathless, crimsons dimmed while she basked in the sweet taste of the black ale.

The foot of the tankard sat back down on the varnished counter. A breath followed. Her eyes opened, arms folded as she leaned atop the counter on her elbows. Her gaze found him, taking the measure of her. She watched him silently in return. Committing every intimately familiar ridge and dip of his face to memory as if she could ever forget.

"You bring any souvenirs back with ya at least?" He continued with folded arms and a raised brow.

”Just this and some scars.” A hand shifted off the counter, tapping her warbelt. The double sided, knee-high loincloth clung to it by buckle clasps. Borne from a tapestry of various cloths collected from their fallen, an inimitable pattern complimented the honors. She carried herself with a higher level of confidence not before seen.

A curtain of thought dimmed the glint in the Harpy’s eyes then.

Her core shook in the cauldron of her emotions.. Fear. Horror. Anger. Hatred. The uncertainty of battle. Death that loomed behind every corner, poised to take her at any time at the split second blink of a muzzle flash. One slip up was all it took to push up daisies.

…But none of that mattered now.

Not the patrons at the tavern giving them looks in her periphery. Not the crusade they waged. Not the homefront. Not her kin. Not the galaxy.

Nothing.

Save for Yuri.

The glint in Vara’s eyes sharpened. The corners of her maw twitched upward. Her lips peeled back, her golden fang flashed among the neat row of her rippers. Her snout flared with a snort. A chuckle followed, swallowing the glint in her eyes as her laughter roared before she could stop herself. The woman straightened in the same breath Yuri slid over the counter in one motion.

She met him in the middle. With a leap she closed what little distance there was. Her arms snapped shut around him like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning. Her maw parted as she seared her lips against his. The Hound masterfully invaded all of her senses. His warm familiar touch left a blazing trail upon her fur. His scent, a drug of its own, left her desperate for another hit of breath.

It wasn’t enough.

"I have missed you, Cuyan'ika." He muttered softly in her ear, his forehead finding hers with a gentle tap.

Her brow rested against his. She barely stifled a whimper and the tears that threatened to follow. She’d never live it down if she broke in his arms.

Instead, Vara met him the way she knew.

Her hand traced the muscular ridge of his back, mapping details long since committed to memory. Her palm cradled the back of his head. Digits carding through the locks of his mane. Her maw parted. Fangs claimed a small piece of his neck before she soothed the theft with a lingering kiss. She tipped forward. The counter caught his back as she tangled a leg with his. Her lips traced the crook of his neck, lingering for a kiss before settling back on his lips.

Vara drew back after a final smooch, remaining in their shared embrace. The Harpy held his gaze, the fire in her crimson eyes unquenched. ”I don’t want to leave you.”

​

 

[Yuri Maji]

It didn't take long for her to attack with the passion he had come to expect of her. Practically slammed into the counter, she wrapped herself around him and begun with her onslaught upon his senses. Not that he complained for even a moment. His mechanical arm clamped around to ensure no retreat, while his free hand cupped her cheek, caressed her neck and kept her close for a burning kiss.

Finally allowed to catch their breath, Yuri let out a chuckle as he studied her crimson gaze. "Can't leave, anyway. You still owe me money." He teased, trailing a bite and a kiss along her neck. He eventually let go of her, remembering that they weren't alone in the pub, and hopped over the bar to let her finish her drink. He had questions and concerns, but they had to wait until they were alone. For now he was simply relieved that his girl was back in one piece. Taking a sip of his drink, Yuri studied her armour and decorations.

She was different, in more ways than one.

"Finish your drink, I'll call in a favour. Think a soft bed and a warm meal will go a long way right now." He commented, resting against the counter with a warm smile.

After a few minutes, he dipped into the backroom and quickly emerged with a jacket. Wrapping his arm around Vara's waist, he led her out and back to their home. The factory and projects could wait. The whole damned galaxy could wait. He needed to celebrate his own small victory with her return. She was back and in one piece. The reaper lost this time.

He kept her close, teeth scoring a few marks against her neck as he drew her scent with deep breaths. "You karkin' scared me, ya know." He admitted softly. Once home, Yuri took the liberty of helping her strip her armour down and getting another drink in her hand. It was then that his joy subsided with a more serious look. "What happened out there?" He asked gently, watching her carefully.

Vara Rasha

 

[Vara Rasha]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

"Can't leave, anyway. You still owe me money." He teased, trailing a bite and a kiss along her neck.

Her amusement flared through her snout in a short huff. “Good,” she murmured, voice meant only for them. “Cuz I ain’t payin’ it off.” A playful glimmer passed through her eyes. His bite wrung a low breath from her. The following kiss soothed the mark of his fangs. A growl hummed from her core. The Harpy pressed him in closer. Her hand cradled and caressed the back of his head. Entangled in his embrace, she kept him there for as long as she could. Even when the moment reached its natural end, her grip refused to loosen immediately. Her hand lingered at the back of his head for a heartbeat longer before she reluctantly allowed the distance to return between them.

The warmth of his embrace lingered long after he slipped back behind the counter. Vara leaned forward, arms folded on the counter. Silence settled between them then, serene and comfortable. She searched for his golden eyes, only to lose herself in them as he studied her in silence.

She reached for her tankard. The rim brought up to her lips, she slowly cocked her head back. The sweet lager slid down her throat at a thirsty sip.

"Finish your drink, I'll call in a favour. Think a soft bed and a warm meal will go a long way right now." He commented, resting against the counter with a warm smile.

She drew the tankard away. A flick of the tongue, she lapped away the layer of foam on her lips. ”Now you’re talkin’ my language.” Warmth cradled the edge of her voice. ”Go on. Don’t take too long,” She tipped her head to the side, lips curling to a grin as she watched him.

Her words sent him to disappear at the back-of-the-house a moment later.

By the time of his return, her tankard long sat empty on the counter. She beamed with a smile. The warmth of his touch found its familiar place around her waist. Her helmet tucked under her arm, she draped the other across his broad, muscular shoulders as she walked out with him.

The winter chill lashed at them. She remained close, sharing her warmth with him. The Harpy’s pace slowed before she came to a standstill; the heat of his breath hovered dangerously close to her neck. Her black, flowing mane stood on end at his draws of breath. A breath misted before her lidded eyes.

She barely reigned herself from launching another onslaught at him.

"You karkin' scared me, ya know." He admitted softly.

She turned to him with a pivot. ”Believe me, I wanted to let you know I was fine,” Her free hand cradled his cheek. Her eyes settled on Yuri, and the world beyond him faded into irrelevance. ”But we weren’t allowed to. OPSEC, babe. Y’know how it goes…” The conversation carried them the rest of the way home.

By the time they crossed the threshold, Kestri’s bonechill and the city felt a world away. Her helm and armor plates neatly lined their sofa’s seat cushions. She tied her bodyglove around her waist by the sleeves, and sat down on a couch. Yuri slipped a glass in her hand before the back rest even caught her. ”Bless your hands,” she flashed him a smile as he settled in front of her.

Then came the inevitable question.

"What happened out there?" He asked gently, watching her carefully.

She didn’t speak a word at first.

The Harpy pulled the glass to her lips and knocked back the drink in one go. The liquor slid down her throat with a familiar burn. The empty glass clinked as she set it on the coffee table before her – a glass pane mounted atop the bonewhite skull of a creature she could never name.

Her gaze lingered on the cranium before finding Yuri’s eyes. “We bled,” she shrugged. “That’s what.” The edge of her voice came sharper than she’d like. A sigh puffed from her lips. She leaned forward after a moment, hands clasped between her knees. ”They found us out. Dunno how, but they did. An’ it all went t’Hell real quick,” She began the retelling. ”Reggie an’ I-... We was at this tank factory. Scopin’ it out, lookin’ for some intel inside. Loads of Imps there, the same ones from Coruscant,” She cast a nod towards the Stormtrooper helmet while her gaze refused to budge off his. A trophy from his Ma’s days. ”An’ at first, it was just them, until they sprung the trap.”

”...Found a way to a server room. Terminals ‘n’ chit – exactly what we was lookin’ fo’.” Her tone then took a sharp turn, growing heated with each syllable. ”He came outta nowhere, babe. Caught me off-guard an’ he-...” Her head snapped away from him, averting her gaze. She paused. Her palm wiped down the bridge of her nose and mouth. She shook her head. ”Felt the saber cut right through me,” The words caught in her throat. Her eyes settled back on him, widened. ”Quick scrap with that scughole. Couldn’t nail him, either of us. We got outta there-... in some, fightin’ retreat...” the memory lingered in the silence between them.

And that had only been the tank factory.

But that was only the beginning.

​

 

[Yuri Maji]

The joy and affection didn't take long to slip away in the wake of Yuri's question. Seated across from Vara, he lit a cigarette for her and passed it on before lighting his own as he listened to the start of her story. Her beer was emptied in the blink of an eye for some liquid courage, Yuri's golden eyes watched every small movement she made and his ears perked to hear every word.

He could already tall that it was simply the start of the mess, yet it all went gloriously south almost immediately. He knew the song and dance of covert operations, sometimes a job simply went south. It happened more than anyone would care to admit. What he didn't understand was how it turned into such a mess that the Fleet had to be deployed.

His eyes shifted to her body in search of any wounds, though it seemed that she took care of herself on her way back.

The Hound motioned for her to continue as he took their empty bottles and retreated to the kitchen. His focus was on her as he retrieved two fresh bottles. "Y'all encountered Sith, that's what some of the guys said." He remarked idly, popping the caps off each bottle.

Vara's distress was visible. He already knew what it would entail. She wasn't going to bed with a loaded blaster for at least the next month. Upon returning to the lounge, he held a bottle out to her and sat beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulders to provide some comfort. Coruscant was an ugly battle, but this fight was her baptism of fire. It reminded him of Onderon. He was never any good with these things, he never knew what to say.

But he wasn't going to leave her alone, she was going to need his support.

A jiggy would likely help as well...

Vara Rasha