Log Date: 4/3/97 Log Cast: Gabrielle, Shenner, Jessalyn, Lando, Luke, Winter, Skeezix, Tand, Kian, Ragnar, Pac Log Intro: Disheartened by her last encounter with Paul Nighman, in which he told her that he doesn't want to 'hurt' her by trying to have any kind of relationship with her, Shenner has returned to the NR's guest barracks on Calamari. Seeing her distraught, both Jessalyn and Skeezix have tried to console the girl, but despite their efforts, Shenner has awakened the next day in a kind of numb stupor. Instinctively, Shenner seeks out comfort from her guitar, as she is found in the barracks by one of the officers.... ---------- Gabrielle looks at you for a moment. Gabrielle You see before you a young human female, standing around 5'9". Alluring emerald eyes sparkle from beneath a river of molten copper tresses that flow well past her waist. Her toned athletic form is well presented in close fitting khaki pants and a military cut tunic (the uniform of an NR officer) hugging her form with flattering ease. The pants are tucked into knee high brown leather boots. Cinched around her slender waist is a thick brown leather belt. Over the left front side of her tunic lie her rank pips designating her a 2nd Leiuteant. On either side of her collar is a small insignia that represents Squad1 and her position as XO. On the right front is a small brass nameplate with recessed letters displaying the name Veran. Her manner is calm and reserved though she moves about with precision and the lithe of a jungle cat. Her green eyes sparkle with life, the small flecks of gold near the center of the iris, seemingly adding to their vibrance. Around her neck she wears an intricately carved gold dragon pendant, clutching between it's claws a gold band ring. A smile graces her full red lips, complimented by the soft rose hue on her cheeks. Shenner sits on the floor by one of the bunks, a big guitar in her lap; she's playing the thing softly, filling the room with plaintive ripples of notes. Her head is bowed over the instrument, and to all indications, this is a very depressed kid. Gabrielle strides into the room, a moderate sized shopping bag in hand, absently she tugs at her tunic with her free hand as she looks about the room. Her eyes fall lightly on the young woman on the floor. A slight raise of the eyebrow indicate her intriguement, as she steps forward to the bunk she had claimed the night before. The noise of someone entering the barracks doesn't make the youngster look up. Shenner keeps playing, something in her stance and motions of hand oddly mechanical, though the music she's producing is anything but. Gabrielle listens quietly to the music, as she settles the bag on top of the neatly made up cot. She draws a mint green shirt from it, reaching up to unbutton her tunic. She smiles faintly as the music floats gently in the room. Quickly she slips off the tunic, pulling on the silken shirt with ease and fastening it, the translucent fabric of the shirt allowing her white sleevels tee to show from beneath. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looks back at Shenner finally daring to break the musical interlude with a question "Your music always so melancholy?" "Uh uh," the kid mumbles, not looking up. She doesn't stop playing, either. Gabrielle nods slowly "Just felt inspired then?" She offers a warm smile, to the bowed head. Shenner murmurs dolefully, "Somethin' like that, yeah." More strumming, though her pace falters a little. The smile slowly fades into seriousness, a hint of concern taking root in her gaze. Gabrielle leans forward on her knees, studying the young woman "Something wrong?" Shenner's hands still into silence. Her head lifts a little, giving you a glimpse of mournful eyes in a thin white face, and the kid starts to shake her head... then changes her mind to nod weakly. Gabrielle furrows her brow, her eyes warm with concern "Anything I can do to help?" She offers genuinely, folding her tunic aside and onto the cot. The kid with the guitar considers this gravely, then simply shakes her head. Gabrielle leans back, stitting upright, a sigh escaping her lips "You sure? I'm not that bad a listener and I'm great at troubleshooting." She smiles faintly and briefly, her face lightening slightly "I'm Gabrielle Veran." "Shenner," mumbles the guitarist. "I'm sure... thanks...." Gabrielle presses her lips into a thin line, "Alright..." She studies the girl for a few moments longer before she stands, brushing at the lint on the lap of her slacks. "Well I'm glad to meet you in anycase, Shenner." Once more in a strangely mechanical kind of motion, the kid nods absently, and starts playing the guitar in her lap again. Noticeably more expressive than the youngster's face and voice, the instrument reflects a despondent kind of mood even as Shenner's fingers -- perhaps tired, for her motions on the strings look stiff, and her fingertips are reddened -- falter on some of the notes. Gabrielle sighs reflectively as she continues to loook at Shenner. After a long interlude she turns tucking the bag and it's contents into a small chest at the foot of the pallet, laying the tunic carefully on top. She walks toward the door, the music wafting behind her and she turns giving on last look at the mourful girl on the floor before she strides through the door. Gabrielle has left. ---------- Interlude: Somehow, Shenner managed to remain alone for the next several hours; it did not occur to her to wonder why the barracks seemed unusually quiet, and that part of her that might normally have wondered about it was simply grateful that she had been left alone. She didn't _want_ anybody to be with her, anybody who might make her think about... well, people she didn't want to think about. It struck her as a much better idea to simply spend time with her guitar. Lots of time.... ---------- She has not bothered to keep track of time; the only sign of hours' passage has been a slowly increasing pain in her hands, as Shenner plays her guitar... as she has been practically all day. She remains parked on the floor of the barracks, plucking out faltering notes, and scowling vaguely as her fingers put out a protest for a break. The door whooshes open, and Jessalyn steps through it. She pauses just inside, her gaze flicking across the room, and coming to rest on Shenner as she picks up the sounds of the guitar notes. Frowning slightly, she takes long strides to stand in front of her, boots clicking on the hard surface of the floor. "Heya..." she says to her softly, looking concerned. "Hi Jess," Shenner mumbles, still trying to pluck unsteady notes out of the guitar strings. Jessalyn crouches in front of her, and tries to smile reassurance. "Sounds like you need to take a little break," she says soothingly. Lando arrives from the corridor. Lando has arrived. Luke has arrived. Shenner looks up, but only a little, though this can let Jessalyn see that the kid's face is lined with exhaustion and strain. "I gotta get this song right," she mutters absently. Jessalyn sighs as she looks down at her friend, and touches her shoulder. "I think you need a break, anyway." She walks back across the room to her own bunk and starts rummaging through her bag, frowning. "Maybe later," mutters the kid listlessly. The guitar puts out an uneven chord, with the seventh coming out flat and the fifth sharp, and Shenner frowns tiredly. Her hand flexes once, stiffly, before she tries the chord again. Lando walks into the barracks at a slower pace than usual. His cape simply flaps lightly against the back of his legs. He is carrying a large box under one arm and smaller one in his hands. He looks around the room briefly and spots Jessalyn. A luminous smile envelopes his face and his hurries towards her, looking extremely proud of himself. He taps the boxes lightly and then turns them over towards her, "Hey Jess." "Just my way of saying thank you for going shopping with me the other day." Lando adds with a wry grin Jessalyn continues rummaging through her bag as Lando approaches her, turning paler. "Oh, dear... what the hell am I going to..." She looks at him suddenly, seeing the boxes, and shakes her head. "You didn't?" Lando chuckles softly to himself and nods, "I did indeed." Shenner, parked on the floor, doesn't show any sign of acknowledging Calrissian's arrival. She continues to falter through the chord she's trying to play, makes it, and then staggerstrums onward through a barely audible wisp of melody. Winter has arrived. Winter enters, a long slow stride to her step, prepared for the evening. Winter says, "Good evening everyone..." Winter looks to Lando, "Good evening General Calrissian." Winter's arrival has no more impact upon Shenner than Lando's did; the kid remains hunched over her guitar, there on the floor, trying to play notes and chords with the same sort of effort one might expect from someone trying to haul a boulder up a hill. Winter says, "Shenner, did the dress fit properly?" Winter looks at you for a moment. Lando steps a step away from Jessalyn and holds up both hands, "Look Jess, those are your's and I'm not taking them back. Besides the store has a no refund policy anyway." He turns toward Winter smiling brilliantly, "Evening Winter. You look spectacular, I must say." Jessalyn stares at the boxes in awe, starts to stammer something, gives up, and simply blurts, "Thanks, Lando!" She kisses his cheek quickly and darts down to the bathing rooms. Winter smiles a bit at the running Jessalyn, "Well, I take it you saw to her in one of your less scoundrelous moments." Shenner's head turns slightly towards Winter as the woman speaks her name. The kid, however, doesn't quite look up at her, and Shen's face crinkles in distracted puzzlement. "What dress?" She keeps plucking out uneven notes, barely noticeable under the conversation in the room. Winter motions to the package on Shenner's bunk, "The one I had sent for the ball." After some time, Jessalyn emerges shyly from the smaller room at the far end of barracks. She rubs a hand over her bare arm, looking nervous and uncomfortable. "Uhm. I kind of wish you'd picked a different dress. I'm not sure I want Luke to see me in this thing." Winter looks over at Jessalyn a moment, "You look very beautiful Jessalyn, I am sure Luke will be simply floored." She offers a bit of a smile of encouragement to the obviously nervous woman. Winter returns to Shenner, "You are coming are you not? I am sure it would be a shame to miss you at the event." Winter's clarification manages to seize enough of Shenner's attention that the girl's hands falter to a stop on the guitar, and green eyes lift to blink glassily at the older female. Then at the package on the bunk. Then at Winter. Finally, intelligently, the girl mumbles, "Ball?" Lando watches Jessalyn emerge from the bathing rooms and smiles warmly, "Jess you look stunning, why wouldn't you want Luke to see you in that?" Winter steps towards Shenner, "Yes, the Diplomatic ball." Jessalyn swallows hard, and shrugs. "You think?" she whispers as she looks down at herself. "I just feel silly. Like this thing might fall off me if I shrug wrong." She smiles sheepishly as she reaches up to adjust the clips holding up her hair. Winter walks to Shenner's bunk and lifts the package, handing it to Shenner... Lando laughs lightly and winks to Jessalyn, "Then all us males at the party will get an unexpected, yet very pleasant surprise won't we?" Shenner's hands remain halted, stiffly poised against her guitar strings. She blinks at Winter again, clearly failing to grasp the concept being relayed. "What... would I go to that for?" she mumbles. Winter A windswept, short mane of snowy white hair frames the delicate face of this woman standing before you. Winter looks back to you with strikingly brilliant emerald green eyes, her gaze cold, betraying no emotion in the least. Her skin is the color of pale moonlight on a cold winters night, her lips have a soft rose colour to them. Her frame, tall and lithe moves with a refined poise and grace as she steps, giving the illusion of almost gliding as she walks. Winter notices your glance and responds with only a nod, silent and emotionless. Winter is wearing a tailored velvet dress, of a deep raven black color. The dress fits almost skintight along her lithe frame, the back dipping seductively low revealing her silky smooth shoulders and soft back. The fabric glides along her body, dropping to the barest hint of a train at the floor. Her short snow-white hair has been set back, close to the head, adding to the sleekness of her look. Her normally pale lips bear the trace of a soft red colour as do her cheeks and nails. Around her neck is a black choker, that has the symbol of the New Republic set upon the front, completing the look for the evening. Jessalyn The face of this young human woman is lit by a dazzling smile made nonetheless more enchanting for the nervousness it so imperfectly hides. Shining dark red hair is swept back from her face and held up with gold clips, though curling tendrils escape to trail along her forehead and the nape of her neck. Her eyes are deepset and green, the color of sunlight through new leaves, set into a face with wide cheekbones and smooth, pale skin not as fragile as most redheads'. What seem to be hundreds of tiny, square-cut emeralds glisten from her upswept hair, around her throat, in thin bracelets around each wrist, and in two long ropes that pass around her slender waist before falling all the way to the hem of her gown in rivulets of green fire. The dress is two shades darker than the stones, made of some impossible fabric that slides along her like water from somewhere scandalously far below her necklace. The skirt is just tight enough over hips and thighs to be shocking, is slit off-center and shows off every centimeter of long leg with each step. Winter gives Lando a quick look and then looks back to Shenner, "Because you have helped us so and if you shared the trials, so should you share the rewards." Lando A grin as smooth as his voice graces his dark face more often than not, though the eyes may or may not laugh so smoothly. A slight mostache settles above it, his expression altogether strong and self-assured. His black hair is short and well kept. He is dressed in somewhat somber colors of grey and black; black trousers with grey side stripes and boots, and a light grey tunic with black simple trim. Over this is settled a black cape lined in light grey, which swirls about his knees.Around his waist is an elegant looking belt and attatched to the belt at his right side is a blaster harness, which straps to his leg. The butt of a very ornate looking blaster sticks out of the holster into view. Winter sets the package next to her, "You should hurry if we are not going to be too fashionably late." Jessalyn blushes at Lando's comment, and sits down to wring her hands in her lap. "W-when is he getting here, anyway?" she mumbles, eyeing the door. Shenner opens her mouth, closes it, and finally fixes on Winter with quite the heartsick expression on her young face. "I can't.... I can't....!" She sounds stunned, and more than a little frightened, and her voice is ragged. The doors whisks open and Luke steps inside. A self-conscious squint and then a grin as he notices everyone. "We're gonna be late." he says. Lando flashes a self-satisfied grin and turns to look at the main entrance, "Knowing Luke he probably stopped along the way to save the galaxy." Winter opens the package and presents you the dress, "Of course you can." Luke A young, athletic man. Slightly built by human standards, yet his form seems laden with agility and a quiet peace. His usual tousled mop of sandy blonde hair is now neatly combed for the occasion, with a slight part on the left side. Light blue eyes sparkle out from a well tanned face. He is dressed entirely in striking black fabric, cut well to fit him. His collar, trimmed in gold tubing, is flipped up to stand in a horizontal line across his jaw, with the same gold trim elaborating the width of his shoulders and the seam of his arms. His pants are tucked into knee high boots, showing more polish and gleam than they are used to. A shining black belt encircles the waist. From it, hangs a Lightsaber. Under the saber belt is a ceremonial sash of glimmering gold. Draped over his shoulders rather than worn, is a rich black half-cloak constructed from thick woolen fabric, caught at the collarbone by the wings of the New Republic set in raised patterns on golden disks. His demeanor is quiet and purposeful. His eyes, it seem, do most of his talking for him. A minute squint here, an infinitesimal raise of his sandy brows there. He is lithe and fluid in his movements.. like a wisp of smoke or leaves rustling in a gentle breeze. His demeanor speaks of power without arrogance; strength without egotism. He exudes intense calm. Winter looks over and greets Luke with nod, "Commander.." Luke allows himself to glance over at Jessa. He blinks and manages, "Wow. You look great Jess." he then turns a squint on Lando, amusingly accusatorily in nature. Jessalyn glances up at Luke nervously and stands up from the bunk, her eyes widening somewhat. "Thanks," she mumbles, and follows his gaze to Lando. Shenner stares at the garment in Winter's hands, plainly not registering it in the slightest. "I...." She remains uncomfortably hunched there on the floor, and her hands, still tightly curled, haven't budged off the guitar strings. Abruptly, panickedly, she starts shaking her head back and forth. Lando smiles warmly at Luke and the gazes back to Jessalyn, "Hey buddy. What do you think of Jessa's dress here?" Winter takes one of Shenner's hands and helps her up, "Come now, you neednt be nervous." Luke smiles and answers Lando, "It's great Lando." he then gives him a look that says -you?-, while reaching for Jess's hand. Shenner's hand comes off the guitar strings, and perhaps Winter might notice a suspicious slight dampness on one of the girl's fingers. The hand in question is still tightly and stiffly curled, as if every muscle in it is drawn up hard. Winter's voice usually even and firm, softens a bit at the girl's fear of this evening, "Trust me, I will make sure it is alright.." Jessalyn's smile suddenly brightens her face and she takes Luke's hand, unabashedly admiring this new view of him. She gives it a squeeze, and takes a deep, tremulous breath. "Shouldn't we go?" Winter says, "I could leave the dress here, and let you decide at your own time to join us Shenner." Shenner frowns vaguely at her hand, the one Winter's taken. "I gotta get this song right," she mumbles mechanically. Lando lets out a smile that looks like he has the market on arrogance cornered. He grins wrly at Luke, "That buddy, I picked it out myself." Walks up to Winter and stops a few steps away from her, admiring her full form, "You should dress this way more often." He says extending his arm towards her. Luke nods to Jess, half whispering, "Yeah let's go." Winter stands and walks towards Lando, "I would not count on it General, I can only handle letting you make such remarks once a blue moon." She smiles softly. She takes the extended hand and walks with him. Lando lets out a smile that looks like he has the market on arrogance cornered. He turns to face Luke, "Thanks buddy, I picked it out myself." Walks up to Winter and stops a few steps away from her, admiring her full form, "You should dress this way more often." He says extending his arm towards her. Winter stands and walks towards Lando, "I would not count on it General, I can only handle letting you make such remarks once a blue moon." She smiles softly. Shenner, as Winter lays the dress down, hunkers down over the guitar again. Skeezix walks into the barracks and glances around... Winter says, "Well, shall we?" ---------- Interlude: Shenner barely noticed as all five of the NR personnel left the room. One corner of her mind registered a measure of astonishment that she'd completely forgotten about the ball -- after all, General Calhoun _had_ told her about it -- but the rest of her thoughts remained relieved that Winter had not forced her to accompany them. She couldn't stand the thought of going out in public, where she'd have to deal with people... who might ask her about Paul. The thought of trying to wear that fancy dress Winter had obtained for her sent cold chills down her spine. And the thought that perhaps if she set foot outside the room she'd run into Paul himself sent colder ones after the first chills.... And at last, some time later.... ---------- Tand rests on his cot in fresh clothes, his hair is still wet from a recent shower. With a bored expression he looks over a datapad. Tand's arrival, like that of the ballgoers and their departure earlier, appears to have had very little impact upon the kid currently huddled on the floor over her guitar, in front of her bunk. Shenner is plucking out with painful slowness some kind of series of notes that _might_ be a melody if she were producing them with anything resembling her normal tempo and pitch, but right now, all they are are a string of disassociated tones. After finally giving up on concentration he slowly pans up and watches Shenner. "Shen, you've been playing that all day? Doesn't it hurt after awhile?" The youngster with the guitar considers this without looking up, or stopping her occasional plucking at the strings. Finally she replies absently, "Yeah." Tand glances down at his pad and deactivates it. As he slides off the cot to stand he says, "What is wrong with you lately?" He approaches, although at a slow pace. Neither Shenner's stiff, uncomfortable stance over the guitar or her listless voice change much, as she answers, "I'm fine...." Tand of course does not buy that as he kneels down a few feet away. He attempts to get a better look at your hands specifically, "I'll see it when I believe it." Shenner does not look at you as you kneel down; she appears to have fastened her gaze on a spot a meter or so before her on the floor. Her hands, as she plucks almost at random on the guitar strings, move with stiff and tiny motions, and the right one is shaking ever so slightly. Tand stands and approaches to within a foot or two, "Shenner, let me see your hands." For once, if imaginable, his tone is somewhat authoritive. The girl awkwardly places her fingers and strums a chord; it comes out jangled. "I have to get this chord right," she mumbles. "Shenner, the chord can wait. Let me see your hands." he says once again, his tone remaining commanding. Tand Tand Starpath is a human male who stands at nearly six foot in height. He is of average physique, perhaps somewhat scrawny for his height. His hair has been recently cut, it lay parted up the middle. A few wisps of hair fall over his emerald eyes, which sparkle with a youthful gleam. Tanned skin shown evidence of life under a sun, either by work or pleasure. He appears to be in his early twenties of life. Dressed in a casual dark ensemble of clothes, he wears a pair of well worn black boots which accompany old and dusty midnight blue slacks. A black long sleeve shirt is worn, tucked neatly into his pants. A multipocketed dark grey vest is also worn, itself appearing old and well used. A black belt surrounds his waist and snakes down his right leg to wrap around the inner thigh. Held on the belt is a holster for a blaster style weapon. He wears two pieces of visible jewlery. One is a trinket which he wears around his neck; a small eye with blue rays extending all around it is held by a black chain. Piercing his right ear is a small golden hoop earring. Tand looks at you for a moment. Mechanically, Shenner lifts her hands off the guitar and holds them more or less out in front of her. Her attention shifts off that apparently fascinating spot on the floor to her own fingers, and she asks dully, "Why?" Tand examines her hands, his own gently reaching out to turn them up, "Because, nobody can play all day without some nasty blisters. Your going to hurt yourself in the long run Shen, that's not a good thing." "Oh," replies the kid, without much change in her inflection. Her fingers are still somewhat stiffly curled, and as her hands are turned over, it can be seen that, in fact, her fingertips are not only blistered... they're bleeding, too. Tand's eyes widen at the sight, "Shen! What are you doing? You gotta stop playing, let me help you." Shenner repeats tinily, "I gotta get that chord right." Tand nods, "I know, and you will. In time, but not now. What's important is that you let your hands heal up or you'll never get it right." He glances around until his eyes spot a first aid medkit hung on the far wall near the exit. Shenner mumbles, "My hands?" With a slight pause he gives Shenner a long look of confusion. "Uhh, yeah. Your hands, can't you see the blisters? Your bleeding." The girl blinks a few times, staring vaguely at her mangled fingers. "My... hands hurt," she mutters, her voice hoarse. Tand nods quickly, "Yes, I bet. Let's get some treatment for them, ok?" Shenner's only response is another vague sort of nod. Her eyes slowly grow damper. Tand's eyes watch you with a sorrowful look. He slowly reaches for your guitar, "I'll put this on your bed. I promise nothing will happen to it." That makes her move a little, makes her brow furrow, but she only emits the tiniest of protesting noises as you grasp the instrument. Tand lets out a sigh as he imagines that guitar being surrounded by a nest of vicious womprats. He pulls it free and then stands, walking around you to place it on the bunk. Shenner's hands drop somewhat heavily into her lap. She straightens just a bit, stiffly, but her head remains bowed as she frowns down at her fingers. Tand quickly make his way and grabs the medkit off the wall. When he reaches your cot he places it down and rummages through it, examining its contents. He glances back at your hands. Tand rolls a 20 for his MEDICAL skill. A Good roll! Shenner's hands remain where they've fallen into her lap, and Shenner remains gazing plaintively down at them. Tand finds a few useful items: a small roll of soft bandage, prep pads, and skin creme. He moves back to your side, once again kneeling down. "Ok, hold out your hands.. this shouldn't take too long. Trust me." Tand rips open a few prep pads and cleans the blood off your hands, sterilizing them. With a slight scowl he examines the medical creme, never using or seeing its type before. Mutely, Shenner obeys, her head lifting slightly as Tand's ministrations take over the place her guitar had previously occupied in her attention. Concentrating, he murmurs to reassure himself, "Just like fixing a wiring conduit." He squirts some of the creme into his own hands and then gently, slowly applies them to your blisters and cuts. It provides a cooling, soothing feeling to your minor but painful wounds. Shenner might be seen to swallow a little, as if the tending of her battered hands -- and the sudden reduction of pain there -- drives it home what exactly she did to them. A frown tugs at one end of her mouth. Tand looks briefly glances up. "Don't worry, they'll be fine in a day or two." he whispers, then unravels a three foot section of bandage to bind your wounds with. "Almost done." Shenner considers this, too, with solemn-eyed gravity. At last, she mumbles, "Thanks." Tand smiles, "No worries. You'll be fine, but I think these aren't the only wounds you hold, are they Shen?" He wraps each hand with a section of the bandage, finally completing the medical work. The kid swallows, and her eyes turn damp again. "I, uh... I guess I..." She trails off hoarsely, and finally just finishes, "Yeah..." Skeezix arrives from the corridor. Skeezix has arrived. Tand's knees grow tired, so he opts to sit on the floor next to you. "What's wrong Shen? Can I help somehow?" Skeezix walks slowly into the barracks and, without a word or greeting at all, approaches his cot. Shenner stares down plaintively at her newly bandaged hands, and says lowly to Tand, "Thanks... I just... gotta get over it, see?" Tand sits on the cold floor next to Shenner, whose hands have been recently bandaged. "Ok, I know what you mean." he offers a slight smile. "If you want to talk or just hang out sometime give me a buzz, I'm pretty useless around here anyway." Skeezix plops down into his cot and folds his hands before him, looking down at them quietly, expressionless. To the overly perceptive, one might miss the usual glint that had always come from his left hand - the ring missing. From the strained and taut set of her features, it's pretty doubtful that Shenner is very perceptive at the moment, unfortunately. She looks more or less in Tand's direction, though, and tells him in a small voice, "Hangin' out'd be okay..." Tand's senses are mainly focused on Shenner. Distracted only by a brief glance towards Skeezix. "Yeah, ok. Just do me a favor and don't unwrap your bandages? I'll check on them tommorrow, or you can just hit the hospital." "I don't wanna go to no hospital," mutters the girl. As the others begin to speak about bandages, hospitals and other medical topics, Skeezix's emotionless face is beaten, cracked into a slow frown. "Well heck, neither would I. I'll just check on em for ya." he once again smiles, trying to reassure Shen. "Everything will turn out good, I bet." Shenner murmurs roughly, "I'll... deal with it... thanks." Her voice gains a little bit more tone to it, a bit more cognizance, and her damp gaze slowly starts hardening as she studies her bandaged palms. "Thanks... dunno where my head's been today..." Tand says quietly, "Don't worry about it. Emotions are tough to handle sometimes, its happened to me too." He glances down at the bandaged hands, "Just be true to yourself Shen. That's a motto I always stuck too." "Yeah, well... gotta figure out who 'myself' is," the girl says, sounding vaguely more normal. Vaguely. There's still a rough, edged ache underneath her words. Skeezix finally breaks out of his trance and lies back upon his cot, folding his hands over his stomach as he watches the cieling and listens to the conversation, quietly. Tand nods, "You will.. if you don't know already." He plays around with the excess bandage left in his hands, "I'm still trying to figure out stuff myself." Shenner smirks, starts to shove a hand through her short hair, then remembers the hand's bandaged. She looks up and around the room, only just now registering that General Calhoun has come in, and the kid shakes her head briefly, as if to clear it. Shenner then frowns, moves stiffly to get to her feet, and scowls as her muscles start reporting in that they are NOT amused at having been hunched over a guitar for eight hours. "I want a cider," she mutters petulantly. Tand groans and forces himself to stand up and put away the rest of the medical supplies. He glances back at Skeezix curiously. Skeezix has apparently fallen into another strange trance as he eyes the cieling, still as a womprat on the ice plains of Hoth. "Tand... hey, Tand," Shenner says gruffly. "Wanna cider? I'll buy... owe yah, I guess..." With a -snap- he shuts the medkit. "Uhh, yeah sure. What kind of cider is it?" he asks, curiously. "The kind that gets me bombed, preferably," Shenner replies, settling her bandaged hands into her pockets. "C'mon..." Shenner, with that, moves as quickly as her stiff muscles will allow her out the door. Tand shrugs and murmurs, "I could use a good drink." he glances at Skeezix again as he passes, worriedly but follows Shen. [Tand and Shenner hit the streets....] Tand arrives from somewhere. Tand has arrived. Shenner, once she hits the streets, picks up some speed, as if her body appreciates the exercise after having been cooped up all day. The kid doesn't say much as she strides, simply lays in a course southward and follows it. [And down to the city square....] Tand arrives from North Coral Avenue. Tand has arrived. Kian enters the square, just arriving from the busy market district. Kian has arrived. Shenner motions to Tand, as the two of them stride into view, "This way, pal... this way." You head east toward the Market District. Calamari Coral City -- Market District An overwhelming crowd, a varied sea of faces, bustles about in the city's busy market district. From every direction vendors call out to you in an attempt to lure you to their booths typically made from smoothed sea rock fitted with a canvas covering which shields the produce from the warm rays of the sun. These booths overflow with exotic and colorful fruits, vegetables and plenty of other foodstuffs that by just looking at them makes your mouth water. Small shops line the streets, the gleaming windows showcases for displaying fabrics, tools, jewelry, fresh meats, fish, crustaceans and other provisions fished daily from the rich blue-green seas of Calamari. Those around you attend to their business, moving from stand to stand, bargaining and occasionally bartering with the vendors. A large sign to the south that reads 'Briny Deep Tap House' catches your interest as the door to the establishment opens revealing a poorly lit tunnel from which emerges a happy faced Mon Calamari. To the west the street meets with the city's central square from where there is a constant movement of people arriving and leaving the market district. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Transport Bay leads to Calamari Coral City -- Transport Bay. Briny Deep Tap House leads to Briny Deep Tap House. Coral City Square leads to Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square. Tand arrives from Coral City Square. Tand has arrived. Tand looks up at the Tavern's sign, lips moving as he recites the name to himself. Shenner, without missing a stride, aims straight for the Briny Deep Tap House. Her face might be seen to tighten a trifle as she enters it, but whatever thought crosses her mind is apparently unworthy of voicing as she zooms right through the door. You decide to leave the busy market place and open the doors to the tap house and descend down a short passageway. Briny Deep Tap House The crisp scent of brine and sonorous roar of laughter and conversations greet you upon entering this lively tavern. Immediately you realize that it is submerged underwater, the walls made of a translucent material allowing you to peer into the rich blue ocean, the waves forming silhouettes cast across the marble white tables, chairs and varied faces of its many customers. Occasionally, the dimly lit tap house is illuminated by bright lights as a cargo of ore mined from the depths of the ocean by the Quarren is taken up to the surface. It is here where freighter crews, merchants or the average citizen can enjoy fine drink and entertainment as supplied by a jizz-wailing band, their music mingling with the clinking of glasses and endless chatter. It is the Briny Deep's boast that it can prepare any drink as sure as the rivers flow to the sea, a motto that Grekmar, the tavern's overworked and sad-eyed Mon Calamari bartender, takes pleasure in informing to all those who enter. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Out leads to Calamari Coral City -- Market District. Tand enters the tavern, the sounds of the busy market district muted as the door closes behind him. Tand has arrived. "Pick a table, pal," Shenner says, her voice still sounding rough and edged, but by now, she's speaking at a more normal voice. She sweeps the place with a gaze that's turned glitteringly hard. Tand's eyes widen as he stops to regard the underwater spectacle, "Neat." He scratches his head as he scans the room, "There." He points to a table in the far corner. Readily, Shenner aims for that table, demanding brusquely as she does so, "By the way, you ain't Corellian, are yah?" Tand almost takes offense at that, "Heck no!" He shoves his hands into his pockets as he follows, "Elroodian, and proud of it." "Good," Shenner growls huskily, folding herself into a chair on one side of the table you've chosen. She immediately punches in an order at the automated menu at the table for a hard cider and adds, "You ring up whatever you want." Tand looks at you strangely, "Why'd you ask if I was Corellian?" He purses his lips as he looks over the menu, "Hmm, ooh.. Starshine Suprise. I'll take that." His fingers punch in the order. As her cider arrives, Shenner scoops it up and slugs down a large draught of it before telling you morosely, "Every single bit of trouble in my life has been caused by Corellians, see..." Tand quirks an eyebrow. nodding slightly in recognition. His eyes widen as he finally recieves his drink; A bright yellowish liquid in a thin-tall glass. Tand lifts his glass up in a salute to you, "Thanks for the drink." He eyes it warily then dares a gulp, causing him to wince at the magnitude of alcohol. He coughs, "Wow, made it nice and strong." Shenner grins crookedly. "Yeah? Maybe I'll try one of those next." She nurses the cider again, hard, then adds, "So. Elroodian, huh? Never heard of it..." Tand scowls as he's heard that a hundred times over, "You ain't the first to mention it. Elrood is another sector on the Rim. That's where I'm from, originally." He takes another sip of his drink, taking pains to hide the near overbearing strength of the drink. "So.. where you from?" "Belsavis," replies the redhead, swigging down more cider. "Marvelous, charming, cold-as-hells Belsavis." And she toasts it, sardonically. Tand shakes his head as the name doesn't ring a bell, "Nah, never heard of it. This Galaxy is to damn big I think." With that he takes a breath and then downs the rest of the drink. His cheeks flush with color as his head tilts down to stare at the table, he simply comments, "Youch." "You ain't missin' much with Belsavis, let me tell yah." Shen polishes off the cider, looking pretty unfazed, then squints at you. "Good stuff, huh?" Tand's eyes burn, "Yeah." He lets out a long breath, "Real good, its a double of a drink called the 'Tatooine Sunburn'." He reaches for a napkin and wipes the sweat forming, "Wow, that Calamari sure can burn for someone who likes water." Shenner grins fiercely. "Well, hells, gimme one of those!" She punches in the order for it, and waits for the drink with obvious anticipation. "Whaddya you want next, pal?" Tand licks his lips and then hesitates, "I dunno Shen.. I never really have more then one, I'm afraid of two." The girl smiles, understandingly enough, as her own Surprise shows up. With the same vigor with which she'd downed the cider, she takes her first gulp of the drink, and it immediately makes her eyes water over. Tand watches you cautiously, "Don't you think ya oughta slow down just a little bit?" He takes a breath to clear his mind, since it spins so pleasantly. Shenner blinks rapidly several times, her face turning quite red, then she swallows down a lungful of air, and says expansively, "Hot _damn_." Tand lets out a momentary chuckle, "You ever been on Tatooine? I lived there for a few years you know.." he points an unsteady finger toward the bartender, "He's good, much better then that stinky guy in the Cantina." Shenner, by way of answer to that, slugs down another _large_ mouthful of the Surprise. "Spent a year on Tatooine," she mutters at you. Tand raises his finger, "Well, the Tatooine Sunburn is meant for those natives of that dustball.. they give all the spacers the Suprise, which is double.. expects em to get knocked out for easy prey. Ever hear of that trick? Its rough, I hated it when they did that to people." Tand closes his eyes for a few moments as he temporarily loses self balance and begins to lean. He quickly pushes off the table, steadying himself, "Damn, its been awhile." Shenner squints at you again. "Yeah." And she suddenly slurrily chuckles. "I kept hidin' from the spacers. 'Specially the Corellians!" Her eyes turn fierce again, febrilely bright. Tand gives you a strange look for a second, but then chuckles, "Cocky bastards are they.. two of em stranded Tacra and I on Palahni not to long ago, friggin smuggler jerks." Shenner blinks at you. Twice. "You too, huh?" She slugs down more of the Surprise, then grimaces. "Corellians. Smugglers. Dammit, why's he gotta be so karkin' nice....!" Tand tilts his head, "Huh?" His hands quickly cover his mouth as he lets out a large yawn. Shenner gestures vaguely off with one hand. "That damned Corellian. You know. _Him_. The one who came with us off Palanhi!" Tand's brain, now somewhat fried has to take a moment to remember, "That damned Corellian.." he recites as the thought finally strikes him, "Oh... Paul?" Down goes the rest of Shenner's Surprise. Her face gets rather glowingly pink, and her eyes, glassy, blink several times. "Yeah. Him!" She bobs her head across the table at you. Tand chuckles and points at you, "Your face is lighting up like a damned star goin nova." "I could go for that," Shenner replies, sounding suspiciously giddy. "What'd you say this drink's called?" Tand idly plays around with the stirrer in his empty drink glass. "Starshine Suprise," he replies. Ragnar enters the tavern, the sounds of the busy market district muted as the door closes behind him. Ragnar has arrived. Shenner declares, "I wanna 'nuther one," and punches the order into the bar's automenu, after leaning over to squint at the thing to make sure she's hitting the right button. Ragnar No-one has ever really wondered if he is good looking or not; it seems irrelevant. His tall slender figure has an air of distinction, too authentic to be modern, and he moves as though he has a cape floating behind him in the wind. One could say that he seems to posess the vitality of a healthy animal, but they would be wrong. He has the vitality of a healthy man, a thing so rare that few can readily identify it. He has the power of certainty. No-one described his appearance as Latin, yet the word applies to him, not in its present, but original sense, not pertaining to Spain, but the ancient Rome. His body seems to be an exercise in the consistency of style, a style made of gauntness, of tight of flesh, of long legs and swift movements. His features have the fine precision of sculpture. His hair is black and straight, swept back. The suntan of his skin intensifies the startling color of his eyes: they are a pure, clear blue. His face is open, its rapid changes of expression reflecting whatever he feels, as if he has nothing to hide. The blue eyes are still, and changeless, not giving away a hint of what he thinks. He wears a simple outfit, consisteing of browns and whites. His pants are loose, and a rich chocolate brown. Over his chest, he wears a bright white shirt, expertly tailored to fit his trim physique. His boots are tall, up to his shins, polished expertly, without a scuff mark. Ragnar pushes the doors open quietly, peering inside with squinted eyes and a stolid face. He enters, silent, and looks about, standing near the doorway for a moment. Among the patrons visible in the bar at this hour are a redheaded youngster of indeterminate -- at least from a distance -- gender, and a green-eyed young man off at one of the side tables; if the expressions on the faces of the two are any indication, they're well on their way to getting plastered. Tand advises, "Now Shen.." he pauses and changes his mind, "Get me one more too?" Ragnar pushes a stray hair back behind his ear, and moves towards the bar, pocketing a hand. The other rises, signalling to the barkeep for a drink, with the aid of his voice, "Ale." Curt and efficient. Shenner grins at Tand, beamingly, and summons another drink for her companion. "You got it.... fellow Corellian strand-ee... strandy? Strand-ee..." She snickers. And in a few more minutes, two fresh Starshine Surprises arrive on the scene. Ragnar is seved his Ale in a talle, frosty glass. he takes a brief sip of it, grimacing slightly, perhaps at the taste. He looks about, blue eyes vaguely bored. Tand holds up two finger, "Thrice.. err twice I might add." He reaches for the glass but nearly knocks it over, just barely saving it with the other hand, He takes a breath, "Phew.. almost ruined that star." "Drink it fast," Shenner advises, "and that way you can't spill it!" The redhead proceeds to start downing her own Surprise, which slowly but steadily adds to the flush in her cheeks. She does not appear to mind in the slightest. Ragnar looks at you for a moment. Ragnar scratches a thte back of his neck, taking another sip, not savoring the flavor for too long. Not his taste, it seems, is this thich, frothy ale. Despite the hard packed buzz already affecting Tand, he takes a moment to think about the safety of that piece of advice Shenner offers. He stares the neon glowing drink warily, "That's awfully.." he pauses and watches Shenner down it. With a 'if she can I can..' thought running through his head he lifts the glance and proceeds to down the drink. Tand slams the empty glass down triumphantly, a symbolic act of victory over the harsh drink. His eyes slowly turn bloodshot as he erupts into one harsh cough, he leans over the table as if gasping for air. Ragnar glances over at the liver-flexing contest that's proceeding a few feet from him. He observes, content to be quiet. Shenner lets out a whoop, and clanks her glass against Tand's; he's actually beaten her in downing the second Surprise, and she grins in vehement approval. "I'll be damned!" Ragnar slips up onto a barstool, slipping his drink in front of his, then taking a reflexive drink. His fingers tap against the glass as he sets it down again, thumb driving a line through the condensation around it. Tand grins, "I'll buy tommorrow." he simply states. "If Tacra could see me now she'd think I jumped into the pit of Carkoon." Shenner bursts into husky laughter, unsteadily but inexorably choking down the rest of her drink. Once this is successfully accomplished, and her head is thrumming loudly between her ears, she peers blearily at Tand. "Whassa pit of Carkoon?" Ragnar peers over, eyes settled on Tand, as though interested in hearing his response. Of course, this is all done furtively, without being rude or obvious. Tand of course can barely keep his vision focused on Shenner. "Uhm, its a big nasty ding in the Dune Sea.." He spreads his hands out wide, real wide that he almost falls over, "This real big mouth.. eats people. I taught you liv'd on Tat for awhile too?" Ragnar looks away, back to his drink. He shakes his head a little, slight smile playing on his lips. Well, damn that. hes amused. Pac enters the tavern, the sounds of the busy market district muted as the door closes behind him. Pac has arrived. Pac looks at you for a moment. Shenner shakes her head at Tand, or at least starts to. The motion appears to have taken on a life of its own, and it takes her a bit before her head gets the signal to stop shaking -- 'cause it's making her dizzy. "Jes' in Mos Eisley," she slurs. "Jes' in Mos Eisley. Hated it. Dried my flute out. Too karkin' hot!" Pac walks up the small passageway and leaves the tavern. Pac has left. Tand nods quickly, "I know I know.. too hot." Speaking of hot, he reaches down and grabs another napkin to wipe his sweat dripping forehead, "Damn, this here drink reminds of Mos Isly." Shenner sets her glass down, and the motion is strangely slow, as though the kid is moving through water. "Wow... now I feel like a nova went off in my head," she mumbles, and she sounds approving of the idea. Ragnar walks up the small passageway and leaves the tavern. Ragnar has left. Tand leans back, his head resting against the cushiony booth paddin, "Why'd you have to remind me?" His eyes wander over towards the door, "How in the hell we sup'osed to get back?" Shenner squints blearily at her companion. "You inna hurry?" Tand shake his head, "Nah, I don wanna sleep in dat crapspot tonit.. I dink I'll sleep in Coral park, nice there." Shenner grins broadly and lopsidedly at you. "You're gettin' all blurryworded," she observes, swaying a little where she sits. Tand smirks and points a finger at you, however he misjudges and nearly pokes you, "Whops.. 'ey, you ain't doin so good yerself. I told you tis suff is strong as a nova." "I," the girl retorts grandly, "'mdoin' great. I'm drunk... an' I wanna be drunk... I have accom... accompli... made tonight's goal!" Shenner considers this, and adds, "I wanna be drunker." She leans over and peers at the automenu muzzily. Tand raises a finger again, "No Shen! Yur nuts!" He loses his balance almost completely and falls into the wall, "Uhh, your spinnin fast." "Ain't got nothin' betterda do," Shenner slurs back. A third drink is summoned -- not a Surprise, as Shenner misses that button on the automenu. What eventually shows up is something fruity-looking, with a fresh snippet of fruit wedged over the rim of the glass, and Shenner begins to gulp it down the moment it's in her hands, every so often pressing the cold glass against her overheated face. Tand just lay there slumped against the wall like a space slug, watching you with dreary eyes, "Yer insane." Shenner cackles huskily. She keeps swaying slightly where she sits but somehow manages to keep her balance; eventually her rate of alcohol consumption begins to slow, though. And she holds on to her glass as though she were a small child sipping a mug of hot cocoa -- an image aided by the awkwardness of her bandaged hands -- and stares across the top of it into the air. Her expression holds a mix of emotions, as she tells you, "Insane... about right, yeah... must be it... tearin' my hands up like that..." Tand shrugs lazily, "Jus leav em be till I look at em." he states, eyes slowly drifting closed. ---------- Postlude: At last, with a hefty amount of alcohol in her system, Shenner had the pain in her hands dulled down to a low mumble... and she could safely not-think about what had happened between her and a certain Corellian without remaining on the edge of tears. Still, though, it plagued her as she and Tand continued to drink; Paul _had_ been exceedingly nice about the whole thing, it occurred to her. Which had to mean that her feeling so awful had to be her own fault.... Yes, that was it. As she and Tand got progressively more intoxicated, Shenner realized what she had to do. The more she thought about it, the better an idea it seemed.... [End log.]