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If You Can't Beat Them I: Sullen Girl [Lynmeira]

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  • If You Can't Beat Them I: Sullen Girl [Lynmeira]

    The air in the market was sweltering, the Cloud City corridor vast enough to have once acted as a place to store and maintain starships, now packed with countless stalls and bodies, both organic and made of metal - or, in cases like the small, green-haired woman roaming amongst it all, both. Dressed in a simple dress of dark grey, with silver glasses perched on her flattish nose, if it wasn’t for the vibrant head of teal curls, she would have blended into the crowd effortlessly. She moved with a meandering, directionless air, yet the pose of her spine and the crisp line of her lips stopped her from being jostled by those around her.

    Then, some of that might have been the subtle tweaking of the Force, gently pushing people away before they even realised it was happening.

    A frown pulled her brows together as Maeve paused to look over a stall of what its sign proudly claimed to be rare antiques, but to her looked like cheap dren made for the masses and tarted up to look unique. Trapping her thin pipe of sweet, spicy-smelling smoke in the corner of her mouth, she reached out and lifted a trinket of twisted, curled brass and red gems up for closer inspection.

    “A rare find that is, miss,” the grizzled old twi’lek behind the booth informer her. When he smiled, half his front teeth were missing. “Nearly four millennia old,” he added, leaning in as his voice slid into a hushed tone. His orange eyes flicked over those around him before he stage-whispered, “Supposedly, it once belonged to a Sith Lord.”

    Maeve’s brows went up, scepticism making her lips quirk to one side around her pipe. “Really, now?”

    “Oh, but don’t worry your pretty head about it,” the merchant continued as he straightened up and hooked his thumbs into his belt. “It’s dormant, see. It’s been cleansed.”

    “And how fortunate you are that such a priceless artefact has ended up right here at your little stall,” the princess cooed with a sweetness like poisoned candy. She smiled; at least, her teeth showed. “It’s especially remarkable when I know that this very talisman has been sealed away for all those millennia. Tell me, did the Jedi gift such a treasure to you out of the goodness of their hearts?”

    Her eyes went wide, mockery flashing in their blue-green depths as she drew in a feigned gasp and let her grin grow dangerous. “Or maybe you’re a Jedi, masquerading as a market seller for some secret mission. Maybe I should report you to the Empire’s goons. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

    The twi’lek grew pale, his blue skin turning sallow as he fumbled and grabbed the trinket from the woman’s hands. “Now, now, miss. There’s no trouble like that. I’m just here trying to make a living. Half of what anyone pays for is a good story, you know that.”

    Her smile disappearing, Maeve cast a dismissive glance over the rest of his wares and shrugged. “Yes, well, maybe it would be better for the integrity of your ilk if you toddled off and choked on your own lekku,” she shrugged. As the words left her mouth, a heaviness grew around them, imprinting them into the seller’s thoughts. Not a direct order, so much as a suggestion for him to mull over.

    Flashing her teeth again, she delicately returned her pipe to her lips and strolled along as tendrils of smoke coiled around her.

  • #2
    The rumors about new vendors on Cloud City, the whispers about their rare artifacts proved to be severely overrated. Lynmeira had decided to venture there in hope to find new wares that might pique her interest. The Jedi Guardian had had a deep love and interest for history and ancient culture since her youth in the Hapan Cluster. She knew how difficult it could be to find objects of value, including ancient tomes, predating the era of datapads and assorted discs and devices.

    She had been sorely disappointed so far. The one thing that suddenly caught her interest was a flicker in the Force. It was a dark, but mostly intriguing, pull. The Hapan had no interest in slipping from the path of light, but she had been at a crossroad a few years back, and maybe it was why she felt unexpected curiosity. She had learned to trust her intuition.

    She had masked her aura, wishing to observe more at ease, as she blended in the crowds. The tall brunette eventually came near an argument between a short girl with a unique teal mane and a Twi'lek vendor who seemed eager to feed his lies about goods that had nothing to do with what they were supposed to be. Since the woman didn't injure the indelicate vendor, she didn't step in.

    Only when the girl walked past her, did she speak up. "I doubt we'd gift anything so precious to a low life vendor who sells lies better than his so called polished trinkets." She smirked, picking up on part of the banter that had taken place moments ago.


    • #3
      One teal brow went arching above the slender frame of her glasses as Maeve turned and looked up at the tall brunette that had spoken to her. Her head cocked to one side, a look of blank disinterest passing over her pale, round face.

      Understanding clicked a moment later. Instinct made her hackles go up, a hint of tension building in her shoulders as her spine stiffened. Slowly, a smirk etched itself into one corner of her mouth. Taking a pull of smoke from her pipe, she pursed her lips and blew out a thin, silvery stream as she folded her arms loosely across her chest.

      “Well, well,” she purred as a quiet snort of laughter as she looked the woman over. “I wouldn’t think the Jedi would trouble themselves with a boring old market like this.”

      A pale hand extended as she let a thin smile spread across her lips. “Priscilla,” she offered. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. She was just opting for her middle name.


      • #4
        Lynmeira sensed the shift in the teal haired woman before her. She didn't change her oown behavior though. She never really let her guard down, but it wasn't fully up either. If she had struck up a conversation with the stranger, it wasn't to be aggressive or closed up all at once.

        She chuckled to what the other woman retorted. "Blame the money these guys must spend on their public relations rather than actual items of value." She smirked. "The Twi'lek who tried to praise that amulet... It's not half as disappointing as a few other supposedly reliable vendors who have established themselves here."

        The tall brunette smiled and accepted the handshake that was offered. "Well met, Priscilla. I'm Lynmeira." There hadn't been any last name to offer in a very long time.


        • #5
          “A Jedi treasure hunter, then,” Maeve mused, a smirk crossing her lips as she took the woman’s hand. She wondered sometimes, whether the artificial skin her cybernetic arms were coated with was really that convincing, or if people just dismissed any oddities as their own mistake.

          Taking a final draw of smoke, she tapped ash from the end of her delicate pipe and tucked it away into the pocket of her dress. For a moment, it looked as if that was going to be the only thing she said. Looking around the market with a cool gaze, she tilt her head to one side in idle thought.

          “Have a drink with me,” she suddenly offered as she looked up at Lynmeira again. “A chat. I’m curious about what a Jedi is really doing here.”


          • #6
            "Among other things, yes." Lynmeira replied with a nod and a slight grin. Her interest for such things went back to even earlier than her days with the Order. Since then her inclinations had even diversified, though everything made sense together, at least to her.

            She had thought about offering Priscilla to have a bite with her, as she was curious about the woman, but hadn't been pushy. In the back of her mind, it made sense to let her decide on her own.

            "Sure thing. Let's hope that the cantinas here are better than the antiquary vendors!"
            She replied with a wry smirk.


            • #7
              “We can only hope.” Maeve offered a dry laugh, only just stopping herself from rolling her eyes. Giving a terse nod, she began to lead the way again through the crowd. The urge and instinct to scratch and claw and spit venom at the woman – the Jedi – gnawed at her belly, but she stamped it down. She wasn’t in any mood for a fight.

              Not yet, anyway.

              Did she recognise her, she wondered? Likely not. Maeve had always taken efforts to keep her name from the holonet beyond frivolous reports of what parties and functions she’d been spotted at. It had been years since that little incident with the Jedi…

              “So what are these ‘other things,’ ooma?” She purred sweetly, looking over her shoulder. “I simply must know.”


              • #8
                Lynmeira smirked, hoping that it'd indeed be better. She let Priscilla lead the way, observing her quietly. It felt as if the woman could look like a wanderer one second and take charge the next moment. The one thing the Hapan knew was that the Force had wanted them to meet. The Guardian had learned to recognize such tugs over the years.

                She quirked a brow at the purr that came her way. "Oh so you must?" She quipped back with a grin. "Beware, you might not find all Jedi completely boring then." She teased a little, her Hapan pride subtly kicking in.

                "My old passions lie in ancient cultures as you found out, as well as languages." She had once worked as an interpreter on Hapes. "Fencing is an old interest of mine. More recent ones were gained through my time with the Jedi, thanks to some special persons."

                As they reached a place to have a drink, she followed Priscilla into the establishment and took a seat as they got a table. "I've had a few challenging last years you could say." She observed, knowing she hadn't revealed all of these "other things" were, but she bet that Priscilla might pick on this, if she really wanted to hear about them.


                • #9
                  Maeve’s smile turned stiff around the edges and stopped reaching her eyes. Turning away again, she shrugged and let the expression drop completely.

                  “You aren’t the first Jedi I’ve met, darling,” she replied as she strolled through the crowd. She didn’t move with the same purposeful elegance as earlier; drawing on the Force right before a Jedi was hardly wise, especially when, as far as they knew, she was cut off from the blasted thing.

                  “You would have liked my husband,” the princess mused, her head cocking thoughtfully to one side. “Well, no. Nobody ever liked my husband. But you would have shared interests.”

                  Thoughts of Val were rarely pleasant, especially when married with thoughts of the organisation he had abandoned her for. Gritting her molars, she pushed the mess of emotions away and focused on stepping through the cantina, built up right in the middle of the market, to sit at the nearest empty table.

                  “We all have challenging years, ooma,” she replied as she looked up at Lynmeira, giving no effort to summon her smile once more. “I’m sure one of the vendors here will happily claim to sell you the galaxy’s smallest violin, though.”


                  • #10
                    Having no idea of whatever had happened between this woman and other Jedi, Lynmeira nodded when Priscilla said she wasn't the first Jedi she had met. "We travel around or do have quite a few visitors indeed." She simply mused back.

                    At the mention of the woman's husband, the Hapan wondered where the man might be, but she refrained from asking. "Likeable can be a bland adjective." She knew she hadn't always been the nicest person to be around, but she knew that many things mattered in how someone was, and reducing them to how you could like them could be limiting.

                    She smirked at the quip about the galaxy's smallest violin. "I don't picture myself paying for something that'd end crushed between old books. And music is a lost cause with me. Not that I was ever really interested in it anyway."


                    • #11
                      “Oh, I know,” Maeve replied with a thin smile and a stiff nod. “You travel, you meddle, you interfere, you snoop… So long as it’s convenient, that is,” she added, chilly disdain flashing in her teal eyes. “What shining examples you are to us all.”

                      Tensing for a moment, she glanced at the serving droid making the rounds, silently praying that it hurry up and reach their table; she needed a bloody drink. Why she had offered this conversation, she didn’t have a frelling clue.

                      “Tell me, Lynmeira,” she spoke up again, lips pursed as she crossed one leg over the other and rested her chin delicately against her fingertips. “What have you achieved with your books and your artefacts and your clever use of the Light Side?”


                      • #12
                        "So you met other Jedi, but you have narrow minded views of all of us. Interesting." Lynmeira replied, quirking an inquisitive brow. The Jedi weren't perfect, but they were better options, at least in her views, than many other places in the galaxy. She was curious about how the other woman would answer to this. She didn't disagree with how some Jedi had done just what she had said, but it was extremely reductive to consider all of the Order as such.

                        She was about to answer the question tossed her way, when the serving droid stopped by. She inclined her head to let Priscilla place her order first, then she asked for a rum based cocktail.

                        Returning her attention to the teal haired woman, she spoke again. "Well it's not always been clever use, but without the Jedi, I'd be dead by now." She would have died mentally or literaly a few times, if it hadn't been for some Jedi.


                        • #13
                          “I’ve only met a few that made me think any differently,” Maeve replied with a small, dismissive shrug. “As far as I can tell, one of them has frelled off to parts unknown, and the other…” She hesitated, mentally cursing herself for the unpleasant corner she had backed herself into. “He was decent regardless of your Order. And he’s far beyond even my reach now, regardless.”

                          The moment the droid was at their table, she ordered a double of gin, neat. It wouldn’t be her last drink of the afternoon, she’d already decided.

                          “Simply not dying is hardly an achievement, ooma,” she remarked with a weary sigh, this time going to no effort to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “I hate to say it, but trillions and trillions manage to do so each and every day, many despite themselves.”


                          • #14
                            "Well a few is better than none." Lynmeira stated. "Some have definitely a way to up and go without a warning. Heck, my first Master did that. I still have no idea where he might have headed off." She hoped that Aly was well, but frankly, she wondered where the hell he had disappeared to!

                            She smirked to what Priscilla said about not dying. "What do you want then? Me to list all the reasons why I consider that being alive today is a big deal to me? Or are you set in believing that it isn't enough, period?" She asked, her tone not aggressive but serious regardless, willing to know what the teal haired woman will reply.


                            • #15
                              “The same could be said of any group of sentient beings out there,” Maeve remarked with a shrug and a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s inevitable that a few good ones somehow come out of it, despite the dren they’re surrounded with.”

                              Despite herself, a smirk cracked her lips. “Disappearing father figures. Well, nice to hear that some things never change, no matter what side you cleave to.” A wry chuckle left her throat. The moment a glass of clear spirits was set down in front of her, she brought it to her lips and sipped at the crisp, vaguely medicinal-tasting drink.

                              “If you’d been listening, darling, you would’ve noticed that I’d asked what you had achieved. I’m sure that your continued existence is a very big deal to you. That doesn’t tell me what good you’ve done with that precious life.”