What's a Bar Like this Doing Around People like Us? (Keira Ticon)

[Other Space Kaiden]

Theme​

​

Whiskey soaked memories lingered in the swirl of the shot glass - too many for tired eyes to count. Marvik followed the melting ice as it circuited the vortex he'd spun into existence with twirls of his wrist. Somewhere along the long line of neats on the rocks, he had given up on drinking the faces at the bottom of the glass away and let the tide of pain and thick booze sweep him away.

Cigarette smoke smelled again now as it had last year on this day - and the year before that and the year before still. Chimes of glasses sounded again now as they did those years past. Cheers of men sounded again the same...

Pyre smoke on the breeze, clatter of blades and howls of men circled around two brothers - of which one would become an only child. Marvik's eye lit to life again, but only long enough to empty the glass and beat the bartop in a signal for another. It filled again to the brim and was gone just as quickly as it came. Maybe he had it filled again. Maybe he didn't.

The whiskey blur colored over the events of the night just as it did every year - and that's the way he'd keep it.

He leaned back in the stool, breathing deep and watching the blood smeared memory playing across the back of his eyelids. The hair on his neck jumped when he felt the air move faster than it should and he realized he was tilting too far back.

Throwing a hand out, he caught himself on the bar and pulled himself forward - bumping into whatever was sitting next to him. A long growl leaked from cracked lips as he turned to face whatever fight he'd have to end, but he didn't raise his fists or voice when he saw the red eyes of a woman looking back at him.

She had taken her seat somewhere along the latter-half of his binge and been nothing more than a black coat to his shakey vision - until now. Her hair was buzzed to the skin, eyes sunken from crying, age or both. Beautiful or a portrait of beauty painted by booze, who was he to say in his state...

...but it was enough for him to choke back his drunken fighting words, "S-sorry. Didn't see you there."

 

[Keira Priest]

Music

Time became a funny thing after the third or fourth glass of whiskey neat, which is to say, it just about ceased to exist at all. Keira wasn't sure how long she'd been at the bar, but unfortunately she still remembered the exact reason she was there in the first place. It was impossible to drink enough to forget the loss of family and a child, but that didn't stop her from trying her best. No matter how many times she refilled her glass, every word of that damned note was still burned into her brain. He was a coward and they both knew it, but despite that only one of them was really hurting. Their son had stayed with his father, after all.

The past few days had been nothing but a blur of bottles, tears and too much time spent trying to forget the last decade of her life. The buzz-cut had come on impulse in a bid to rid herself of anything that reminded her of him. It had felt better, for a while, and she'd relished in the physical and mental renewal for as long as it lasted. Like all good things it inevitably came to an end, and so she took to other methods of quieting her thoughts, the bruises and cuts on her hands a testament to the times when even the liquor hadn't done its job right.

For the first time in a long time she lit up a cigarette; anything to forget how his name felt on her tongue. After one had come another, until she'd gone through what was left of the already half-empty pack, not quite up to the idea of buying another. Maybe later, after she'd sobered up. If she ever did.

No attention had been afforded to the other patrons of the bar, and for all she cared she could have been utterly alone or surrounded by strangers on all sides. No matter how degenerate the present company, it was preferable to being left alone in her own head. She didn't notice the man to her left until he spoke, and even then it took her two seconds longer than normal to acknowledge his presence, and a half a second more to formulate a response as she emptied the rest of her glass. "'S fine. Don't worry about it."

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

His glazed eyes lingered on her even as she went back to focusing on whatever memory she was drowning. If it had been any of the wide eyed, curly haired number of liquor-loosened women sloshing around the bar, he'd already be working his way into her lonely bed.

Where else to lose bad memories than a jungle of hair and a fog of sweet perfume.

But she wasn't the standard heartbreak he frequented. His usual type of shallow blanket fellows had rarely seen enough trouble to end a night with black and blue knuckles. Nor did they come so close to the last inches of life to get a deep red scar up the neck like the one that tore through this woman.

Marvik plucked at the stubble on his chin, losing track of how long his eyes had lingered. Without a second thought to it, he let them drop to her feet and ride back up to her face. She wasn't dressed like a bedfellow either, covered up like she was hiding something. Herself maybe, or maybe a gun or weapon as any warrior would.

Maybe both.

Either way, that many layers of cloth was too deep for Marvik on a good day, yet he couldn't help but be curious. This was Taris, the upper city no less. Not Mand'alor. Not Coruscant. Her caliber was just as foreign here as he was.

After far too long lingering on her face, and giving an occasional leg glance, he leaned over slightly in his chair and checked the label of the bottle the bartender had kept ready for the woman's next pour.

It took a blinking second for him to gather that it was the same Tarisian whiskey he'd been swimming in all night. Her glass, however, lacked the finishing touch of ice that he demanded before a swig.

"A whiskey woman. Now I'm curiouser" he managed to clammer out rather well considering his words were laced through and through with alcohol, "next is on me, one after that too if you can keep up"

He stayed neutral in face and tone, but kept leaned in a little too far for a sober mind to be agreeable with.

[member="Keira Verd"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Had she been any more sober his close proximity would have been less than appreciated, but alcohol had a way of loosening the inhibitions of even the most stoic individuals. It was impossible not to feel him watching her even with the comfortable buzz she was nursing, but she left well enough alone. For once Keira had nothing to hide; or at least, nothing immediately visible. The most she had on her person was a gun, and anybody who was wise enough to spot it was usually equally wise in avoiding any mention of it.

Apparently he was neither, because all the man made mention of was her drink of choice, shortly before challenging her to what seemed to be an impromptu drinking contest. Although one might argue she had responsibility as a mother and head of a clan and should decline, this was a time of mourning, and she grieved in her own way. Her glass was refilled in short order, and she looked to him, "You're on." It wasn't long before that glass was empty as well, and she set it down on the bartop before looking again to her seeming companion for the night.

At first glance he appeared to be more at ease in this sort of environment than she would ever be, drunk or not, but that wasn't too surprising. She'd stopped frequenting establishments such as this over a decade ago, back when she'd first began using liquor to solve all her problems. The years didn't change much, but she could drink longer and harder now and still remain standing. There was something to be said for that kind of progress.

While the first few drinks had mostly done away with her reticence, they still failed to loosen her tongue. If anything she spoke shorter and less frequently, not willing to devote the time or energy to proper conversation. That was the nice thing about drinking: it allowed her to care even less about the impressions she left on others, doubly so in settings like this. When again her glass was filled she didn't move to pick it up, instead waiting for his retort.

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Drinking contests were more natural to Marvik than breathing at this point, he'd managed a solid twenty-years of alcoholic haze without so much as looking in the same direction of an AA meeting. With a grin, he happily shot his next glass like a womp-rat from a T-16. When she called for her next, he called for two. When she called for two, he'd call for six just to see her brow furrow. Even as the drinks grew in number, he almost felt less-drunk somehow...maybe it was the way she made the drunken conversation sound so cohesive.

Before either of them knew it the bar was lined with glasses and the first bottle had been emptied - even the bartender looked ready to jump for the emergency number in case the toxicity set in. The two just kept at it though, eventually talking more than they were drinking. She would say something through the alcohol muffles that made sense for the first five seconds after he heard it but was gone just as quickly as he slurred response.

When the first hour-and-a-half had drifted away, he turned to order one more round. It came ahead of shaking hands and worried looks from the bartender, to which Marvik managed to but wink at. "To drunking!" he exclaimed, tipping his seat and stuttering to correct himself...

...Then he saw her head rested on the table, hands covering her eyes and shot glasses slowly collecting the fog of her breath. "HA! I won!" he boasted to no one in particular, down his last shot and shaking her on the arm. She didn't move. Didn't stir. Didn't breathe for a half-a-second which almost sent Marvik sprinting out the door before he realized she was.

"Huh..." he sat back flat on his stool, looking at her from behind bloodshot eyes. His nights with random women at the bar never ended at the bar...he wasn't exactly sure what to do? So he grabbed his coat, which he'd lazily thrown over the stool beside him, and got up to leave.

He stumbled a few steps, holding onto the doorframe to get his bearing...and he stopped. He scruffled his beard, stared at the ground and then turned back towards her. The bartender was already trying to stir her awake, to no avail, but he waved her off. "No...No its fine I'll...I'll get her a cab or something." he scooped the women up in both arms, caught himself from falling at her weight, then did his best drunken weight lift towards the door.

The bartender had shouted something after him, but he didn't notice or care - he was too focused on figuring out the logistics of fitting the rectangle two-person peg through the square door. When he finally worked it out, he realized he had no idea where to drop her off.

So he took her back to his ship and never realized that for the first time in nearly two decades on this day...

...He'd forgotten about being sad

 

[Keira Priest]

Her awakening the next morning was extraordinarily slow, and for the first few minutes after initially stirring Keira remained laying down with her eyes closed, brow knitting at the headache that pounded behind her eyes. The only indication that she still lived was a quiet groaning and the sound of breath hissing between clenched teeth. After managing to roll to her stomach she pushed herself into a sitting position, reaching up to rub her eyes as a wave of dizziness assaulted her senses. When finally she peered at her surroundings it took her a few seconds to realize the ship was unfamiliar, and another moment or two after that to recall in fragments all that had happened the night before.

After checking herself over for any immediate injury she pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the counter as she realized that she'd been sleeping in the kitchen, with hand towels serving as an impromptu blanket. Nice guy. Her gaze instantly caught on her pistol where it lay on the countertop, and she checked the magazine before holstering it again at her side, stumbling her way over to a chair and sitting down. She didn't quite feel up to exploring the rest of the ship, nor did she have any desire to wake her host. No, she was perfectly content with waiting where she sat, regaining her senses and whereabouts before making the flight back home.

Nine Hells, her brother would never let her hear the end of this.

From what she could recall the two had mostly talked about nothing the whole time they drank, exchanging whiskey-soaked commentary that neither cared enough to remember or think through before they said it aloud. No names had been exchanged, and all she really knew about the man was his preferred drink and the fact that he was apparently more of an alcoholic than she and her brother combined. That suited her just fine, as she hadn't gone into things intending to make lasting friendships. As far as she was concerned, if she ended up leaving before he awoke, it wouldn't matter to either of them.

For the moment she was sitting in a stranger's kitchen, waiting until she could stand on her own before so much as attempting to leave.

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

So whom for did the bells toll? Fortunately for him, unfortunately, he was hearing them which meant he wasn't dead. Like wails from hell, the rhythmic screaming of the holoalarm sent a pillow first over his head, the across the room in what ended as a stupidly moot attempt at knocking a phantom clock from a solid surface. "Ahhh, shut the hell up!" a few random slams of the fist later, he finally managed to pin-down the mute button on the small pad from which the holoalarm was projected.

A groan, a twist and finally an overwhelmed spin onto his back. The lights bore holes in his skull and he threw his palms over his eyes before groaning once more - "damnit all...what happened last night?" he rummaged his brain, tossing around puzzle pieces that slowly fit into a blurry picture of the night's events. He vaguely remembered a conversation, but the woman stuck out like a sore thumb in his mind's eye.

She was taller, shaved head and a warrior's body. Definitely not the large chested bimbos he usually chased, but she was no worse for it. What was her name though? Did he even ask? Probably not, he rarely did. He rubbed his eyes, squinting them to keep from burning them out and then glanced around the room. No bras, panties or signs of a hurried run out the door.

For a split second, he felt a drop his chest. At least if they'd slept together she might still be in the ship and he could have gotten a proper name.

He stopped himself in that mid-thought. What DID happen last night? He never particularly cared about who stayed or left after his bar escapades...maybe it was just the lack of sex? Maybe not? He wasn't sure why he was disappointed really, but it was there nonetheless.

"Losing your edge Marvik." He sighed to himself, throwing bare-legs over the bed and taking one more moment to orient himself. "Oh well." with a heave, he pushed himself from the bed and proceeded nakedly through his bedroom door and into the kitchen - where a set of tired eyes stopped him in his tracks.

Then it hit him...she had come back with him last night...he remembered carrying her to the ship from the bar...

His pause was long, uninterrupted and more than slightly awkward. "Um.." he began, forgetting the nakedness of his own body while he struggled to search for the right thing to say, "want some...caf?"

 

[Keira Priest]

Slowly but surely Keira was regaining both her bearings and natural reaction time, to the point that when he entered the room her glance upwards was less than half a second behind its usual. Unfortunately for her, her vision still functioned normally, and so she was perfectly aware of the decidedly unclothed state he entered in. However, among a warrior people it wasn't as taboo as it would have been to anyone else, and she was able to brush it aside after the first second or two. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind that." Reaching down, she picked up one of the hand towels and tossed it to him. "Might want this."

With both hands she again rubbed her eyes, yawning and running a hand across her head absently. It was a slow morning for the both of them, and while she didn't mind the idea of heading home in the next few minutes, something about the idea felt wrong now that he was awake and they'd acknowledged each other for the first time completely sober. Now she owed him at least a name and a cup of caf, and maybe then she could be on her way. They'd likely never cross paths again, but the kindness of a stranger would be something nice to remember later. After all, he'd been gracious enough to carry her from the bar to his ship, and attempt some kind of drunken, impromptu bed. That was more than she'd expected.

Reaching up, she steadied herself with one hand on the countertop, standing slowly until she was at her full height. Swallowing once, she again looked to him, this time disregarding his nakedness altogether. "It alright if I shower while you make the caf? I won't take long."

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Pure instinct drove his hand to snatch the towel from mid-air, but it took several cock-eyed seconds for him to realize why he needed it. Looking down, he took note of a few sensitive items he'd left hanging loose before sharing a second, awkward glance with the woman. Coughing into his hand once, Marvik then slowly wrapped the small towel around the front of his waist.

"Thanks." He struggled with the towel a moment, finally managing to stretch it far enough around his waist to create a backward Kama that covered his boys but left his rear-end open to the recycled winds blowing through throughout his ship.

The towel fluttered as he sput towards the caf machine, smashing the on button and opening a cabinet to retrieve the can of caf beans within. " You can uh...take a shower in my room if you want. It's not very clean but" taking a look back, "considering we left you on the floor the last time I saw you, I think you can handle it." he cracked a smile before turning back to the caf

"room is down the hall, on the right."

 

[Keira Priest]

Waving him off with a hand, Keira shrugged one shoulder, "I can guarantee you I've probably seen worse. I grew up with mostly older siblings." As she exited the kitchen she wondered briefly what possessed her to speak of her childhood to a complete stranger, when even her brother knew little and less about where she'd grown up. It was easy to attribute it to the aftereffects of drinking the night before, and so she did, not lending any more thought to it as she entered first the aforementioned bedroom, then the bathroom on the back wall.

It was fairly spartan, but then, so were most things in her life. Closing the door behind her, she set her clothes on the sink, stepping into the shower and turning on the hot water. With a quiet sigh she tilted her face up into the stream, lowering the temperature gradually until it was lukewarm, simply letting it run over her for those first few moments. Finally, she busied herself with getting clean, finishing after a handful of minutes and reaching for a towel to dry off with. Wrapping it around herself, she stepped out of the shower, blinking once as her clothes seemingly disappeared from where she'd put them. After leaving the bathroom she took a few moments to glance around his room, to no avail. "Nine Hells..."

Near-silent footsteps carried her back down the hall to the kitchen, and she paused in the doorway, towel concealing the entirety of her modesty, unlike his makeshift covering. Raising an eyebrow, she cleared her throat to get his attention. "I'm glad you have a sense of humor, but considering we just met last night, I don't think now's the best time to be showing it off. Just a suggestion for the next time you have guests over."

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

The caf was just starting to simmer when he heard her step from the shower. Not to pat himself on the back too hard, but he did have impeccable timing. Opening his cabinet he reached for a mug, realized he never does dishes, and then reached for the sink for one to clean. He gruffed, bubbles pouring over the edges as he scrubbed away at whatever black sludge he'd left in the bottom, he heard a soft patter of feet and then she said something about him having a sense of humor. What? Was a mug from the sink too lowly for her highness?

He turned with a slight grimace - then immediately forgot everything when he saw she was just in a towel. He made no attempt to hide his gaze, letting the water run in and over the cup as he gave a quick twice over the woman. "I don't know what you mean, though it's nice to not be the only one with just a towel." he cracked a sly grin, pouring out the last of the broken-sludge from the mug.

As he was pouring the caf for her, it finally hit him why she was naked. As much as he'd like to believe it was for his benefit, he had to come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't that good. Sighing, he pushed the cup to the corner of the counter for her to reach before calling deeper into the ship, "Kote! Get out here!"

There was a rustling from his room, the sound of metal on metal and then a three-foot tall creature came trodding out on six stubby legs. The creature was thin with sharp claws and a long rats tail that arrived three minutes after it did - and in its jaws was a belt that he'd managed to pull free from the strange woman's trousers.

With big-beady black eye, he looked up to Marvik, sitting down on his rear and waving his thick tail across the ground like a mop. "There you go." Marvik smiled, pointing to the creature and using the chance to steal another glance at the toweled woman as he picked out his room with a jab of his finger, "he probably stashed the rest on his bed, it's in the corner."

 

[Keira Priest]

Stifling a sigh, Keira looked down at what was presumably his pet before turning and walking once more down the hall to his room, this time making a beeline for the now obvious impromptu bed in the corner. He must have been rather ambitious, because there were more than just her things to sort through. After a moment she managed to gather her things, including her pistol, but she was still missing her belt. Turning, she saw the same animal that had ambled into the kitchen when called now stood in the doorway, staring at her unblinking. Bending down, she tried to coax it towards her, but it remained defiantly put.

Sighing again, a few seconds passed before it clicked in her conscious mind that its name had been in Mando'a. Not even wanting to consider the odds of that, she stood straight, attempting one more strategy. "K'olar." After a moment, it begrudgingly crawled across the floor and came to a stop in front of her, looking up at her once more. "Heyr." Obediently her belt fell from its jaws, and she picked it up, retreating to the bathroom to get dressed.

She left the towel hanging on the door, reholstering her pistol as she exited his room for the second time. Her arrival into the kitchen this time was silent, and she took up the mug he'd set aside, nodding in thanks and sitting down in her same chair. For those first minutes she only sipped at her caf, contemplating exactly how to go about asking the question that came up immediately once she noted the distinct lack of a language barrier. There was no truly eloquent way to go about things, and besides, she'd always been a believer in saying what one meant without mincing words.

Holding her mug in both hands, she traced the rim with a finger, looking up at him where he stood, raising an eyebrow. "So, what clan?"

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Marvik enjoyed seeing her walk towards him, he loved seeing her walk away just as much. His eyes lingered on her hips as she moved into his room, she didn't sway them quite like the tramps he was used to - no, this woman held herself much more rigidly. She wasn't a bar whore, that was for sure. That walk of hers was just bouncy enough to be hypnotic and just solid enough to let him know that she could likely kill a man.

And probably had.

Just as she was disappearing behind the frame of his bedroom doorway, he finally allowed his eyes to focus on something besides were chebs just quick enough to catch a glimpse of something sprawled across her back. He thought he was seeing things at first, but looking over it in his mind he knew he wasn't. It was some kind of black blob, maybe a tattoo - though he had distracted himself too long to catch a good enough look at what exactly it was of.

Eventually, the woman came back with an unfortunate amount of clothes on. He didn't let his disappointment show, instead, he simply put their cups of caf on opposite ends of his single-serve table and leaned as far back as he could so she could have the space.

Then things were quiet for a long time. Awkwardly long, even for Marvik. Several times he thought about starting a conversation on...well just about anything to catch the silence but something in her eyes told him not to. Was she thinking about something? What was it?

"So, what clan?" It took a full breath for him to realize what she'd just asked and when it did hit him, he reared his head back in shock,

"How did you-

He paused...narrowed his eyes. Then he slowly looked across the room at Kote, who had taken up a seat on the couch pinned against the far wall. The Strill sat there, tongue on display and beady eyes questioning Marvik's gaze. He gently set his caf down, groaned and rolled his fingers up his face.

"Osik. You're Mandalorian."

 

[Keira Priest]

The realization dawned on him slowly, then all at once, and finally he cursed audibly as it all seemed to sink in. Managing a half-smile, Keira took another sip of caf, setting her cup down on the table. "Have been for a few years, 'lek." He seemed put off by it more than anything, but then she supposed with all the changing of regimes lately it was easy to find oneself distanced from their native or adopted culture fairly easily. At one point she had felt much of the same way, but a call from family and a brief discussion turned that around quickly, until her loyalties once again lay with the governing body of Mandalorians.

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal, unless you're on the run from something or someone that I'm not aware of. Even then, I have other things to worry about." This time around she was far less invested in politics and more concerned with the affairs of her clan, namely rebuilding their homestead and reinstating their name as something to be proud of, rather than synonymous with traitor and exile. That was enough of a burden on its own without concerning herself with the outsiders or self-imposed exiles that had already attempted to start a second civil war. If he happened to be one of them, well, then she knew whose company not to keep.

"So long as you're not Vizsla, I really don't have anything against you." Which was mostly true. She had a grudge against their people after the first time the throne had changed hands, and had maintained it ever since.

"Which clan, then?"

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

"Maybe I am Viszla, dancing around my tribal fires and skinning hides for my loincloths" he quipped, ignoring the irony between his own dignity and the statement. With an almost inaudible sigh, the Dathu set his coffee on the table and took a seat across from the now overly-covered and unexposed Mandalorian. Leave it to his luck to put him in the same bar with a beautiful, drunk female - across the galaxy from Mand'yaim - and have that woman be a Mandalorian herself.

Well at least he didn't have sex with her...he never thought he'd be saying that.

"Besides, last time I checked, a man didn't need to explain himself in his own ho-er...ship. Unless, of course, the unfortunately lovely lady wished to explain herself first."

He eyed Keira, keeping his eyes on her face rather than any alluring limbs he may have enjoyed just as much. He didn't think she was a danger, most of the vode weren't - and not for lack of trying. He was just curious, probably more than her. Whatever clan she was from had enemies as any clan does, but Dathu could top any amount of enemies she might have.

After all, Hawk's Do Not Bend the Knee - not even to Mand'alor most the time. It was really nothing short of a miracle that kept the Dathu's a clan anyway and he was sure she'd have something grandiose to say about all of it.

 

[Keira Priest]

As he watched her Keira held his gaze, unable to hold back a smile and quiet laugh at his mockery of Vizsla. Well, that at the very least guaranteed one possibility was entirely untrue, and set her marginally more at ease. With a nod, she shrugged. "Suppose it's only fair." She considered it for a moment, just as uncertain as him as to what the reaction would be. Much like Dathu, her clan had a reputation, though arguably worse given recent history. It was a hit or a miss as to how she would be received following her introduction, but her name wasn't something she was ashamed of. Not now that she held the cards to their future.

"Verd. I'm the Alor." She watched him carefully for those first seconds before continuing, "My brother and I returned not long ago. Us and our sister are the only ones left." Three may have made a crowd, but it also made a family, by their standards. After everything they'd endured, it made them even more tightly-knit, something she was grateful for given she'd almost lost her family once already. It wasn't something she was keen to repeat again, but hopefully this time she wouldn't have to. Unlike the last clan head, they were perfectly content with remaining Mandalorian.

Taking another drink of her caf, she paused for a moment, awaiting his rebuttal. "So, unless your reputation is somehow worse, I don't think you have anything to worry about.

"What clan?"

[member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

For a long, quietly tense moment, Marvik considered all of the ways in which he managed to kark-up his life recently. It shouldn't have really been a surprise to him, he somehow always got himself into these kinds of situations. Smuggling jobs for backstabbing hutts. Hits on Gen'dai bounty hunters. Strange bars with beautiful, Sith aligned Mandalorians.

They always fell squarely into his lap. "Huh. So...Verd," Marvik absently stated, his mind still obviously tumbling the name around in his head. Not on whether or not he should shoot her, like other clans may have considered, but rather he was considering the prospect of whether it was okay for him to still find her as attractive as he did.

Should he feel bad for still wanting to bed her? He took another quiet moment to remember that he'd probably bedded far worse people, but then again, so had she.

"Well, this is special. Never thought I'd meet a clan almost as infamous as mine. Name's Marvik Dathu."

 

[Keira Priest]

Her hand drifted subconsciously closer to her weapon in the uneasy silence that followed, until it became abundantly clear that he wasn't going to try and kill her for her trouble. A quiet breath was released when he finally spoke again, and Keira wondered for a moment why that name was so naggingly familiar until it dawned on her all at once, and she couldn't help but flash a smile and shake her head. "Two outcast Mandalorian clans walk into a bar, yeah?" The odds were something she didn't contemplate, and that wasn't just because of her Corellian heritage.

A nod, and she gave him her first name, "Keira." At least she knew she was in good company. Or rather, company that wasn't in the position to nitpick, given the relative state of both their clans at the moment. It put her relatively more at ease, and the hush that followed was markedly less tense, as she was thankful this could remain just another quiet morning. It wasn't often she had these anymore, and she took what she could get, even if it was in the presence of a relative stranger.

"You could have just told me you were Mandalorian, y'know. It's not like I would have held it against you. Not like my clan can hold much against anyone in that department." Much like him, it was just her luck that she would happen upon the only other Mandalorian on the planet in her one night of drinking that wasn't spent in familiar territory. Sometimes she needed to get away, and scenarios like this were why she was hesitant to do so, though this one had turned out mostly in her favor at the end of it all. If one didn't count the stumbles along the way, including the fact that he was still mostly naked beneath the table.

Details.

[member="Marvik Dathu"]