Public Youngblood - Tatooine Ship Crash

[Kayûm Kratha]

There are many things in life you must do- and sharing her catnip was NOT one of them.

Kayûm silently prayed this at the soldier claimed his wish for a drink. The gold plated lady said she could go ahead and help the man who had just tried to pry the price out.

“Good- Cause you are kriffin gonna die if you pull it out by yourself” She scolded him as she stood, making sure her bag was not moved from its imperative place in front of her.

She knelt down besides the man and took out the medkit- listening to the mercenary remark how they all would like a drink. She sighed wearily- why, why must they want her precious.

Taking her thoughts away to the precious bottle in her bag, she pulled out the medkit and took a look at the remaining content. Mentally calculating- she discovered that she only had enough painkiller for one of the injured. Looking up to the heavens she muttered a cry in felacat- yes. The cruel universe had turned on her. With the others no doubt looking at her like she was a lunatic (they were) she explained as she started unloading.

“I only have enough painkiller for one of you- and maybe not even that.”

She could hear the tinkling of the bottle in her bag. Returning back to her patient she touched the scrap metal gently- reaching out into the Force to assess how deep it is. It definitely pierced the rib cage, and most likely the lunge too. Bleeding would be a problem- but that’s where the Force came in. Kayûm was slightly ashamed when she felt a pang if dismay at the fact he COULD indeed drink when needed.

She nodded when the gold plated lady took control and said there plan. Her feline ears could easily pick up the last part also- and she nodded her agreement before turning to ‘Mr Tin can’.

“Do you want me to sedate you, and pump you with painkiller? Or do you wish to watch?”

You would be surprised how many did want to watch- that’s where catnip came in. She glanced longingly at her bag.

Oh what would I give,
To even take a swig
Or even just a sip
Of my delicious catnip

 

[Be'iqaronn]

Renn quietly sat there the one with the medical bag in front of him, "At this point and time, I wouldn't mind death." A smile reaching his face he looked down shaking his head.

When heard about the painkillers he looked up, thinking about it for a second, he said, "Give it to another I will survive without, not the worst I've been through." His mind went to the topic of him handing them his gun for them to knock him out until he can reach attention. Though deciding against it for it could just kill him.

Though the drink he kept thinking about wouldn't kill him. The effects of alcohol always were nice, the intoxication, the carefreeness it game, and the pain nullification it had.

Looking down at his stump of a hand, he lay it on his lap. Sitting there, his mind returned to times of ease and the peacefulness before the trip, it was all in stark contrast to the rubble he sat in.

Drifter Maijan Paisea Kayûm Kratha

 

[Drifter]

JUNGLAND WASTES // TATOOINE // ABOARD THE WRECKAGE OF THE NESUS
Maijan Paisea Be'iqaronn Kayûm Kratha

So he had a semi-naked cat, a bloody semi gold plated skinned lady and salty mercenary of some sort as crash partners. Fantastic, he mused, trying to focus on the seriousness of the situation at hand instead of the supple curves of Maijan Paisea and the attractive qualities of the lithe and athletic build of Kayûm Kratha .

When one had a Sith Lord spirit with far more experience dealing with the opposite sex and a unique charm, Drifter was battling the internal voice that nudges him to indulge in the finer pleasures in life. There was nothing wrong with being appreciative of the feminine form, Draith. Might even do you some good to finally---

Okay, hold it right there. No more of those thoughts! To anyone looking at him, one might think he had a concussion with the way he brought his one hand up to his helm and gave his head a shake. In reality - or maybe he did have a concussion - he was trying to keep Cameron at bay. It was already super weird to feel the lingering feelings that Lord Ashmedai has for Amorella.. it was weird and just out there in odd odd ways. Not going there. Nope.

[ Well doc, if your gonna tend to his wounds. I figure I'm gonna have a look around. Find Alex. Maybe find others. Figure out where the hell we are. ] He told them, giving a wince as he brought his gloved hand back down and caught sight of the blood. The guy with the ripped armed more than needed whatever drugs Kayûm Kratha had.

As it was, there were other things to focus on. Like their survival.

[ Maybe find something to patch us up. ] turning towards the gold plated skinned lady Maijan Paisea - do not look below her neck, idiot! - he asked [ Hey Goldie, you fit to go searching with me or you gonna stick around? ] Let the nicknames begin!

 

[Maijan Paisea]

JUNGLAND WASTES // TATOOINE // ABOARD THE WRECKAGE OF THE NESUS
Drifter // Kayûm Kratha // Be'iqaronn ​

This was going to be death by committee.

Everyone nodded to one another and agreed on the next steps.

"At this point and time, I wouldn't mind death."

"No need to be so dramatic yet." Without much further announcement, Maijan set about the business she agreed to. Kneeling, she pressed her palm around the base of the metal, and used her other hand just on top of it. Once she'd established leverage, she used both hands to pull and dislodge the metal that had plunged into the mercenary's torso. Not a feat she'd be able to muster the strength for if it weren't for part of her body being solid gold. While it made her heavy, it also made her strong. The tightness of the muscles gripping the foreign object contested with her strength for a few painful seconds (she assumed) before it eventually squelched free. As predicted, fresh, hot blood pooled to the opened, ragged wound.

"Your turn, doc." The former pirate murmured, wrinkling her nose in disgust and setting the pipe that had impaled the mercenary beside him. "In case you're the sentimental, souvenir type." She explained and rose. Taking a moment to put her hands on her hips, she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, nodding her chin in the direction of the feline-esque passenger. "Pretty fortunate you're one of the survivors I guess."

[ Hey Goldie, you fit to go searching with me or you gonna stick around? ]

Dark eyes flashed in Drifter's direction, brows knitting in temporary irritation at the nickname. It wasn't the first she'd acquired, her former crew had affectionately tokened her as Magic Lady or Magic Maijan. None she'd heard so far were terribly creative, but worked well enough to get her attention. That was the purpose, she supposed.

"If this Alex can help us get a signal broadcasted, I'll go with you." She reached into her pocket, beginning to move away, and poked at something gathered in the corners of the inset. When her finger removed, beneath her nail was a thin line of ryll -- which she subtly ingested with a scratch of her nostril.

"Hopefully we don't find another motley crew just...waiting for aid."