Log Date: 1/7/98 Log Cast: Calis, Shenneret Veery, Baria Log Intro: Shenner doesn't remember what happened to her at the end of the Mandalore expedition... or how she got to Calamari, in the house of Molari Canto. She doesn't remember when Paul departed her company -- and she has as signs of his passing only the letter he left her, and the silver sundial necklace. Her body is weak, her mind has a blur across it, and the Corellian Shenner loves is no longer there to give her a shoulder to lean on. Distraught, Shen has withdrawn into herself while her body recovers, spending days of which she's lost count on the cliff behind Canto's house, avoiding speaking unless absolutely necessary to the old Mon Cal who's been given care of her. But she's grown restless -- and even though she won't let herself speak of Paul to anyone, she has nevertheless found his face and voice haunting her thoughts, and both Paul and Mandalore making their way into the songs she sings as she takes once more to the streets with her guitar.... ---------- Calis is a human male of medium height. He has short blond hair that his buzzed off in a military crew cut. His face has very well defined and chissled features. His grey eyes seem to see everything. You can tell he has muscle, but seems more on the quick and agile side than powerful. He wears a long black trenchcoat that flows out behind him as he walks. Under that is a black vest over a white tee shirt. Around his waist is a black belt holding up a black pair of pants. Halfway down his calf the pants are tucked into a pair of tightly laced boots. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => DataPadd Shenner(#3773POACF) This is a young human female, of about 5'6" in height, but of a delicate enough build that there barely seems to be any substance to her. Her skin is moon-pale, her already fine-boned features made pronounced by an utter lack of extraneous flesh anywhere on her face. In stark contrast with her white complexion, her hair blazes a dark red; her green eyes, large, luminous, and darkly limned by red-brown brows and lashes, look out at everything she encounters with a intelligent, haunted intensity. Those eyes, incongruous with her ethereal frame, and taken along with a walk, stance, accent, and mannerisms seemingly more suited for a brash young street tough, exemplify the contradiction that anyone who observes this girl long enough can soon discover: that for all her fragile appearance, this is no delicate flower. Rather, this young human is one that burns. Her hair is currently bound up to sweep back from her face in a braid that drops to just below her shoulders, interwoven and tied off with strips of green suede; from one of these strips dangles three clear glass beads and a small brown feather. She is clad in an overlarge gray-green shirt, tied off at the waist, and open at her collar and throat to reveal a water-blue, lighter silken shirt beneath, along with the glint of a silver pendant on a chain. Her pants are a utilitarian brown, old, but of a still thick and sturdy cloth, tucked into equally utilitarian scuffed beige boots. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => 700 Galactic Standard Credits Calis emerges quietly from the market district to the east. He has a grim look upon his face: his darkened eyes are half closed and are aimed downward and are half closed. There is also a bit of beard stubble on his face and chin. His hands are buried deep into the pockets of his flowing black coat. There's a new addition to the ambient sounds of the city square tonight on Calamari -- someone playing a flute, earthy of sound, a wooden flute rather than one of metal or crystal. The tune stands out in contrast against the surrounding noises and the distant murmur of the ocean: notes like sharply flung stones peel out into the night. Calis's eyes dart up nimbly at the medodical sound of the whistle, and then do a quick side to side glance as he absentmindedly tries to place the musician, still half caught up in his own thoughts. There. Parked on a walkway off to one side in the square, there's a slender figure sitting there on the permacrete, flute in hand, a guitar case lying open nearby. Red hair gleams faintly from nearby street illumination, while the musician sends the flute through the sharp, fast melody. The ever-so-slight frown upon Calis' face seems to be lifted as he places the source of the music. His eyes brighten a bit too as he is fully awakened from his saddening thoughts. He comes to a halt, still quite a ways from the musician, and closes his eyes. He cocks his head to the left almost imperceptibly as he stands and listens. Although the flute appears to be the musician's current instrument of choice, still, there's power to those notes, as the melody is hurled skyward. It rises up in a minor key, growing steadily louder and faster, until at last it begins to die off... a torrent of song blowing over, like an ocean storm. Calis shakes his head to himself as he opens his eyes, a smile now painted upon his thin lips. Then like a shot, he yanks his left hand from the pocket of his coat, and throws a quick glance down to the chrono which he wears there. He smirks to himself and shakes his head again before turning on his heel and moving briskly north up the street, weaving through the evening crowd. The flute is finally lowered, the musician laying it aside, and reaching into the guitar case before her. She's not scanning the crowds... indeed, she seems rather oblivious to passersby, as she pulls out the guitar and settles it into her lap. Sitting ramrod straight of back, her legs crossed beneath the big guitar, the redheaded girl begins to warm up the instrument, now filling the air near her with minor chords rather than single notes. And after a time, as the chords begin to flow from practice chords into true melody, the musician begins to sing, in a low, husky voice: Love me one more time Make this night last forever For on the morrow I leave for Mandalore Calis sighs quietly to himself, and again lowers his gaze to the street before him, though this time he seems lost in rather cheery thoughts (As a shadow of a smile is still apparent on his lips), instead of the grim ones which plagues him just moments ago. A few moments later he disappears into the dim street to the north. Calis heads northward up Coral Avenue. ---------- Interlude: It's been the first time she's sung her new song in public, and Shenner isn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed that no one out and about in Coral City has bothered to notice it yet. She still isn't sure what's possessed her to write it, save that the melody and words have been building in her head over the past several days... and giving her the only possible outlet to thoughts of a certain Corellian, thoughts that Shenner has ruthlessly hidden from conversation, and as far as she can get them from the front of her own mind. But they haven't stayed put, and thus, for all that she's still half-certain she should keep "Tomorrow We Leave For Mandalore" to herself, Shenner continues to play it that night on the streets of Coral City.... ---------- Baria arrives from North Coral Avenue. Baria has arrived. Baria bows. Baria says, "Greetings." Sitting on the permacrete of one of the walkways that traverses the square, a redheaded young woman with a guitar in her lap, from which she's calling forth a stream of minor chords, looks up at the hail. And she doesn't stop playing, but she nods calmly. "Hiya," comes her answer. Baria Standing before you appears to be a large, walking black Panther. His yellow eyes burn with an ancient wisdom as he looks upon you. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Light Armor Baria says, "Interesting spot for a performer." Evidently unfazed by being questioned by a large felinoid, the girl with the red hair says, "Only one I got at the moment, pal." Her voice is husky, her accent street-tough-coarse. And she idly strums a few chords as she speaks, perhaps prepared to launch into a song should this unexpected audience seem interested. Baria's mouth curls into a smile which looks a little like a snarl due to his feline teeth. He glances over the girl and chuckles slightly. "It has been a while since I have encountered a bard. Tell me, what stories do you have to weave for me today?" Slender white hands strum the strings beneath them, again. Green eyes remain level on their audience, as the girl sallies, "A few... what's your pleasure?" Baria sits down facing the girl and smiles. "At this point in my life, with the burdens I face, anything beautiful will do. Something to calm the storm..." The redheaded human gives a kind of lopsided smile, her green eyes going a trifle distant at the mention of storms that require calming. But she sits up a little straighter, her fingers plucking out more notes from her guitar strings, and she inclines her head, a motion incongrously gracious, given her street-tough words. She begins to play, then, the notes beginning to flow quietly and plaintively... and then she begins to sing. Love me one more time Make this night last forever For on the morrow We leave for Mand-a-lore... The girl's street-tough accent vanishes as she sings, her voice flowing husky and low forth from her over the top of the guitar's chords. Her song continues, a plaintive plea to an unknown recipient: We may survive And my heart will always fly with yours But come the morrow We leave for Mandalore... The human girl's head lifts slightly after the second verse, her voice beginning to rise, gaining volume and power: And if we part Just remember I love you And you'll always be mine Let us warm up this cold night together For tomorrow, we leave for Mand-a-lore.... This last portion she sings a second time, her voice lavishing runs and rises and dips up and down through the simple lyrics, making them poignant and complex. And at last, she trails off down into silence. Baria cocks his head to one side as he listens. Baria looks moved. "Excellent. Your art is a lost one, I'm afraid...it has been a breath of fresh air to listen." And as Baria speaks up, with a bard's timing, she trails off, and bows her head. Baria stands and approaches the bard. He has a small bag in one hand and smiles warmly at her. "Please take this. A gift for warming a weary heart." Baria gives you 20 Galactic Standard Credits. Baria looks at you for a moment. And the girl's chin lifts, followed thereafter by her dark eyebrows. Not quite the expected form of payment -- this human must expect coins to be clinked into her guitar case, for it lies open beside her, and one or two coins lie within it. But she nods once, lifting a hand, and saying gruffly, "Thank you. My duty as a singer." Baria chuckles at the obvious surprise on the girl's part. He whispers to her, "There are some of us still on this world who choose to honor those with your gifts. I would hand the gift to you as I would anyone else I dealt with...not toss the coins at you like an urchin." The human girl doesn't quite accept the bag, although her fingertips stretch toward it a moment; most of her attention is on the big felinoid, and she smiles uncertainly, a slight upward curving of one side of her mouth. "Thanks, then," she says simply, inclining her head then, and only then finally turning her hand round to lightly take the bag as it changes hands, furred to furless. Baria interprets her looks (either correctly or incorrectly) as discomfort and smiles somewhat sadly. "I take it you have not seen one of my kind before. That is probably best...for it is said that when we appear, it is an omen that things are happening...I too am a bard of sorts...but in a different sense than one such as you." Baria smiles and his yellow eyes gleam brightly in contrast to his dark, jet black fur. Shen stares for a moment at the bag as it settles into her palm -- perhaps startled by its weight -- but with a bardic composure, she manages not to gape. And her green eyes lift back up to the Horansi, a crooked smile flickering across her mouth once more. "You're the third I've seen... if you're Horansi...?" Baria is surprised openly about this. "Really? Did they look like me? Black fur? Or did they look more like your tigers?" The human girl quirks her head a bit, answering readily, "They were both bigger 'n' you... one of 'em's light brown, the other had stripes, though. Black on white." Her hands stay on the guitar strings, as if reluctant to be very far from them at any given time. Baria nods his head. "Different yet the same. I am a Mashi Horansi...we are a much smaller group number wise...we are the prophets of our people." Still sitting there on the permacrete, her instrument cradled in her lap -- and seeming rather overlarge to be parked in this slip of a youngster's grasp -- the human looks up and up at her feline audience, a kind of interest kindling in her gaze. And if there's a hint of relief there for some unknown reason, she doesn't comment upon it. She does smile a little, however, saying, "Huh... I didn't know what kinds you came in. Been a while since I saw the Horansi I'm sorta kinda friends with... and we didn't talk much." Baria kneels down so he is eye-to-eye with the young bard. "I would like to become friends with you too, if it was in your heart to do so. I would warn you, however, that I tend to be a bit long-winded...a curse of being a Mashi, I believe." Baria chuckles slightly and stares into the girl's eyes, his own yellow orbs lighting up slightly matching what he sees as the young girl's interest in his words. Green eyes meeting yellow ones, the human girl smirks, but not unkindly. As the black Horansi kneels down, she straigtens slightly, though her carriage is already fairly erect. "I got a lot o' time on my hands," she answers readily enough. Her gaze is steady, albeit reserved. Baria smiles warmly. "Good. I must actually go meet with Mon_mothma and then with Winter...I have just arrived on Calamari. But I will be around often...perhaps we may talk then?" For a moment, for _just_ a moment, a strange little expression flickers across Shenner's face at the mention of Winter; but it's gone as quickly as it came, and the girl says simply, "No problem. If I ain't studyin', I'll be out buskin', and I ain't too hard to find." She offers a thin smile. "I play loud." Baria laughs out loud at that. "What are you studying?" Slender shoulders shrug under the gray-green shirt that covers them. "Whatever I can get my hands on, mostly," the bardling answers. There's a very slight pause, as if she considers her words, though when she goes on, it's in a perfectly casual tone, "Tryin' to get into a school." Baria's eyebrow arches at that. "I too am....trying to get into a school of sorts...what school are you trying to get into?" The human girl's green gaze flicks off sideways for a moment. There might, just _might, be embarrassment somewhere there, though she is once more airily calm as she replies, "Well, I was thinkin' about shootin' for the Calamari Academy, or the University, but I guess I got a while to go." Baria smiles and stands back up. "Well, we will have plenty of time to discuss ourselves. I must be off to find Winter. Maybe if I am lucky, I can hear of Luke as well...it has been a long, long time since I have seen him." Baria actually looks a little sad. "But, in any event, take care of yourself..ah...what is your name? I am Baria of the Kah'Keth. Former CO of the NRMP and Former Captain of the NR ship, the Defiant, at your service." Baria bows in a comedic way. For an even briefer instant, there's a slight, almost miniscule, flicker in the girl's expression at the mention of a 'Luke'. But the flicker swiftly segues into another lopsided smile. "Shenner," says the girl, "Shenner Veery. Uh, at yours, I guess." Baria smiles at Shenner with a very piercing look of wisdom..."Well, then Shenner Veery...well met...until next time...and perhaps we can discuss your association with the Skywalker and Solo families." Baria chuckles. "I don't miss much...that is something I can definitely teach you...how to mask your thoughts and pick up on others...but that will have to wait until next time." Baria smiles in genuine friendship at Shenner. He watches her intently for her reaction to his words. Reaction? Oh, aye, there's a reaction there, alright; the girl stiffens slightly, and her expression flares for an instant with something that might be tension, something that might be fear. But it vanishes, less quickly than before, and less subtly, now that its precedessor expressions have been noticed. The human girl is doubtless trying to sound noncommittal as she drawls, "Whatever topic you like, pal...." But she's not entirely successful. Baria laughs. "Have no fear, dear bard. I am truely more of a friend than you know...until next time." Baria bows genuinely and with a flourish steps down the road. Baria strolls southward on Coral Avenue. [End log.]