Log Date: 6/12/99 Log Cast: Lage, Jairen, Shenner, Ariani (NPC), Tasha Log Intro: Shenner has as of late continued her lessons with Jairen Windchaser, learning swordplay from him, as well as more enticing hints about his background. But the young musician has also wound up sharing a personal detail or two of her own with the silver-haired alien warrior, and as she grows better and better acquainted with him, begins to trust him enough to offer up more of her recent background to him -- though she hasn't quite figured this out yet, and needs a bit of prodding from a well-meaning stranger to make her realize it... ---------- You enter the Sandbar. The Sandbar A large, comfortable room creates the main part of Plaxton City's infamous Sandbar, survivor of no less than three rounds of destruction, once more back on its feet. Refurbished to much the same state it had enjoyed prior to the invasion of Caspar at Imperial hands, the place boasts dark wood panelling on its walls, and myriad booths and tables of occasionally battered but sturdy lighter wood, and a number of both old and brand new holoposters hung here and there on the walls. Several deep blue glass windows allow light in from outside, while keeping the ambient light level fairly low. The marble bar that survived the recent war still remains, more battered than before, but once again serving as the domain of Ariani; the loft, too, has been restored, providing yet more seating and an excellent view of the low stage towards the back of the room, where the local band called the Womprats play each night. ----For help with tables, type "PLACE HELP" ----For help with drinks, type "BAR HELP" ----For a closer look at the room's details, type "DETAIL LIST" -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Lage => Jairen => The Sandbar's Band: The Womprats(#5983) => Emma => Ariani -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Fountain Square - Plaxton City. Lage looks at you for a moment. Lage notices the lady enter and dims the light in the booth. Jairen doesn't respond to Lage's 'interogatting glance.' Instead, he simply turns away, sipping his now refilled drink and looks... well... inactive. Lage takes his meal in the dark as it arrives and eats it silently. Whistling a snatch of melody from a song called "The Hunt is On" frequently performed by the Womprats, the lead singer of that same quintet of musicians saunters into the place with all the aplomb you'd expect of someone who owns it. She aims herself straight for one of the empty barstools, glancing casually around to mark Ariani's location, before plunking herself down on her chosen seat. Jairen continues to stand at the corner of the bar. Upon noting Shenner's entrance, he smiles to himself, but doesn't make any movements at all. Instead, he simply turns and continues to watch the bar. Lage unconceals a Q2 Hold-Out Blaster Lage fiddles with something in the dark. Lage readies a Q2 Hold-Out Blaster Something clicks in the corner booth. This is accompanied by a scraping noise and the shuffle of clothing. Lage puts away his Q2 Hold-Out Blaster It doesn't take too long before Ariani notices the redheaded young woman, and she turns round with an amiable, "Aren't you here a little early, kiddo?" "Yeah, but I'm thirsty. Gimme something cool to drink, will ya, 'Ani?" Shenner calls back over. "I'm outta here and back out into what passes for sunshine around here, then I'll be back for rehearsals." Jairen turns now to look over the young redhaired woman at the bar, his smile widening. He moves quietly in that direction and comes to a stop behind Shenner. "What exactly do you do all day as it is, Shenner? Or is the university open again?" Lage brings the light in the booth back to normal, meal finished and looking dandy. He leaves the booth heading for the bar taking out a few meger demi-credits, hoping to scrape up enough for a last drink. Choosing a spot right in the middle, he sits down and decides to order a cheap fruity-drink. Lage walks away from the corner booth. Jairen's voice makes Shen swivel around on her stool, and although she feels a familiar tremor of startlement -- the swordsman does have a way of sneaking up on her that she hasn't quite manager to conquer yet -- she does a fairly good job of looking casual, regardless. "The U's not opening again until fall term," she says, grinning a bit by way of greeting. "Till then, at least when I ain't getting paid to sing or swinging a sword around with you, it's either working out, practicing, or research." Ariani comes up behind her with a light non-alcoholic thing that looks somewhere between light green and light yellow in hue, and smells of lemons. "Thanks 'Ani!" Shenner tosses over her shoulder. Lage sips the drink and inquires with the bartender about work and job openings. As usual the answer comes negative. Jairen ahs slightly, his free hand resting on his sword hilt, as usual. "What do you research? Have you found out anything more about the woman from Coruscant's findings?" As Ariani diverts herself to discuss employment with Lage -- well, briefly, at any rate; how much in the way of employment is one woman who tends a bar going to know about? -- Shenner picks up her citrus drink and gulps it down in sparsely paced but large sips. "First question: I research a lotta stuff. Second question: not yet. Kinda stalled out on that. Got a couple other things I've been checkin' out, though." A small smile curls one end of her mouth. Jairen says, "Oh, I see. And may I inquire into the nature of the subjects which you are 'checkin' out'?" Lage pays for his meal and drinks then leaves. Lage walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Lage has left. Shenner's long familiar with having her admittedly loose adherence to such things as grammar and enunciation questioned; however, in recent months, she's grown entirely comfortable with pronouncing things any way she pleases. Jairen's echoing back of her own words merely makes her lopsided smile curl a little more of her mouth, though the smile doesn't quite make it up to her eyes. "Astronavigation, for one thing; when I get a chance, I wanna test for pilot's credentials. Studying the world my harp came from, for another." She pauses, then adds, fishing her ever-present silver-and-brass pendant out of her shirt and holding it up for a moment, "And the world I think this came from, for a third." Jairen seems to dismiss the whole pilot thing. Doesn't understand electrical devices of any kind much. As for the pendant, he bends down to look at it. "May I see it?" he asks. Shenner's smile fades down into a rather more introspective expression; then, with an almost reluctant expression, she reaches for the pendant's silver chain, slips it over her head, and holds it out for the swordsman' inspection. This silver pendant looks something like a large, heavy ring intended for a male human hand, one half of its outer rim patterned with leaves, the other marked with small letters. Banded around the whole thing is a brass circle of metal, making a ring within a ring, set into the center and can swivel around. There is also a small knob on the side of the ring with the letters, and a tiny hole in the knob that allows light to shine through to the inside of the ring. On the ring's inside, along the inner track where the leaves are, are numbers. Finally, another inner circle, also made of brass and bearing letters on one side and numbers on the other, is affixed within the ring, and appears as if it should pivot to create an inner circle perpendicular to the outer; however, it does not appear to be moveable. Lage enters the Sandbar. Lage has arrived. Lage enters once again, lightly soaked yet with a few more credits in his pocket. He chooses his same spot at the bar and orders a coffee. Jairen takes the pendant in his hands and turns it about, examining it. "Fine craftsmanship." he comments. "You have an idea where it came from?" he inquires, still looking at the small object in his hands. As Jairen turns the intricate little piece of jewelry around in his hands, Shenner watches him with a hooded look to those green eyes of hers, and sips down more of her citrus drink. "I got a pretty good idea, yeah," she answers, low and gruff. "Haven't managed to acquire any information on the world in question that confirms the necklace originated there, though." Jairen looks up and hands the pendant back. "I would be surprised to learn if it was formed in a factory. It looks very much like a master's hand work." Lage asks for a another newdisk, his hopes rapidly diminishing. Shen's slender fingers close around the pendant, and for the briefest of instants, there flickers across her eyes something that might almost be reverence. "If it's the world I'm thinking of, there's no way it'd have come out of a factory. They don't allow technology there. The planet's considered sacred." "What world?" is the only question. Lage quietly listens to the conversation going on next to him with growing intrest. "Place called Tamis." Shenner's reply is equally succint. Her expression is is even more hooded now, and only when she lifts up her glass for another sip of her citrus stuff, only to find her efforts met with nothing more than ice, does a bit of consternation cross her fine-boned face. She swivels about on the stool, holding up the glass for Ariani's attention. "Yo, 'Ani? Wet down the ice in this again for me, will ya? Same stuff?" "Sure, kiddo." Ariani comes by to sweep the glass away, putting in on her personal queue of drinks to build as she takes care of a couple of customers who've come in for a mid-afternoon drink and a bite to eat. Jairen hmms, thinking to himself. Jairen says, "I do not believe I have heard of it." Lage smiles to himself, finding the conversation amusing. Either unaware of or indifferent to the eavesdropper just down the bar, Shenner smiles faintly to the swordsman beside her. "Most of the galaxy hasn't either. They don't let ships land there; like I said, the place is considered sacred." Lage almost bursts out laughing but instead lets it out as a soft cough. Jairen hmms slightly, seeming to consider this, ignoring the rude man. "If ships do not land there, how did this pendant make its way off world?" Another very faint smile curls one end of Shenner's mouth. "I haven't confirmed the pendant comes from there yet," she points out. Jairen says, "I suspect that such a task will be nigh impossible, as information on such a world will be short in coming." Ariani comes back with Shenner's refill, and as the musician takes up the glass, she says quietly to her companion, "There's ways to get onto the world. It's been researched. At least two xenoarchaeologists have been there." Lage stops and listens intently. Lage he orders a frothy drink and turns to the two, nodding to both. "Indeed?" comes the comment, his brow arching in curiousity. He turns to the man he saw before and nods to him. "Good afternoon, m'lord." comes the customary greeting. Shenner's gaze swings around to take in the apparently deeply interested Lage. Her features are already fairly restrained; now, though, the young woman's expression sets ever so slightly, the candor she's comfortable displaying to Jairen yielding to a greater reserve in the proximity of a stranger. "You got somethin' to say, pal?" she inquires. Her tone's not hostile, but it is rather cool. Lage says, "Mello greetings to the two of you too. I couldn't help overhearing your conversation and I believe that you need information on Tamis?" Lage A 6 foot tall, chubby humanoid with a roundish head. He has milk chocolate brown hair and a pair of brown eyes. His skin is a tanned yellowish hue, covered with freckles. He wears a dirty grey jumpsuit with a black cargo waistcoast and utility belt. Around his neck is a simple dog-tag style neck-piece with his name and a number: 1011. Hanging on the belt are various pouches and tools. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => R2-D1 "Not precisely," says Shenner, comfortably slouched there on her stool, but eying the unfamiliar man over the top of her glass. "I have plenty of information on Tamis. Are you saying you have some?" Lage says, "Nope. Not saying anything. Just rather interested... I take it you two are from the university... so you two are researching these sort of things?" Tasha walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Tasha has left. Jairen shakes his head. "No, I am not from the University m'lord." he states in his melodic accent. "I am a third party who merely is curious." Lage says, "Well anyway, I know a man who also deals in this kind of thing. Name's Rantha Rootly, professor at some sort of research facilty. He's obsessed with these trinkets... got a shelf full of them. If you want I could check if he had any of these.. "Tamis" objects..." With a smooth motion that hints at long practice, Shenner loops the silver chain around her head and drops the ornate little pendant down behind the front of her shirt. Her other hand still holds her drink. "I'm only interested in the trinket I've got," she says tersely, "but thank you." Lage says, "Well... can't argue with that... the name's John." Jairen holds up a hand to Shenner. "Do not throw such an opportunity away so quickly, Initiate. Perhaps if these objects are similar to the one you possess, it would open up new avenues of research for you." His tone is a tad more formal at this point, almost like a teacher giving a lesson. Lage finishes off his drink and leans back, a process which requires great practice while doing so on a bar stool,"Well, I don't suppose I could be of any help at all... got an awfull lot of free time on my hands...." If there's any oddity in a young woman in cast-off military fatigues being called 'Initiate', Shenner's deliberately unreadable expression shows no awareness of it. Well -- not entirely unreadable. She flashes Jairen a vaguely disgruntled glance, shifting position ever so slightly on her stool. "Depends," she says at last, in gruffer tones, "on whether this prof can confirm the crafting of ring-sized sundials on Tamis." Lage leans on the bar and frowns. "Look, all that I am saying is that if you need any help at all you can call me.. and I'll call the professor. Just was rather interested. I mean, it's not often that things like this pop up and I thought that if possible, I should get in while the getting's good." He pays for his drink and prepares to leave. Irritated by the change in Lage's tone, Shenner snaps, "It's not a matter of money, pal, it's personal. If you're lookin' for a way to make credits, this ain't it." Both of Jairen's hand rest lightly and nonchalantly on the sword hilt at his side as he watches and listens. Lage is taken back. "I aint interested in money." He flicks a card onto the table. "Change your mind and you can contact me on my Mail service. the adress is on the card and if I wanted to make money there are many more preferable options. G'day." Lage leaves rather casually. Lage walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Lage has left. Shenner's eyes narrow into green slits, and for several moments after the departure of the man who'd identified him as 'John', the musician simply sits there on her stool and belts down what's left of her drink. For good measure she inhales a few small half-melted ice cubes, and with her mouth clamped shut, she crunches the ice between her teeth with a vigor that suggests she'd like to be engaged in action a trifle more violent. Jairen watches the man leave, then turns back to the girl in front of him. He arches a brow slightly at Shenner's reactions. "Lesson 10, anger is natural and will come, however, a temper is a dangerous thing to let loose." Shen's ice-crunching stops. She swallows, clearing her mouth, and starts to bark out the first thought that crosses her mind -- _Dammit, Jairen, I am -not- in the mood for your platitudes_ -- but just in time she catches herself. She counts to ten to herself, in Basic. Then again, in Corellian. And once more, in Horansi. And finally, not meeting the swordsman's eyes as she shoves her now mostly empty glass away from her, she mutters tautly, "If you think this is me losing my temper, you haven't seen me really let fly." Jairen shakes his head. "Not at all. I was simply commenting because you wanted to lose your temper. You desired to become violent against that man with little reason other than he was not amiable in nature. Such things cause trouble. Pale redheaded humans seem to show the slightest change in their emotions in the tinge of their skin, and Shen is no exception as another angry flush reddens her cheeks. One hand, on the bar, curls into a fist, her fingernails digging into her palms. The other one draws out the pendant again, those fingers curling about the ornate little object almost as though it were some sort of talisman for her. Her shoulders rigid, she takes in Jairen's words and this time can't stop herself from growling out the first reply that springs to mind. "I wanted to lose my temper," she barks, "because he said 'get in while the getting's good' like I'm trying to do this for karking credits! I was wrong. Sue me." She still doesn't meet Jairen's azure gaze, though, her own hot and bright and focused intently on the wall behind the bar. Jairen shakes his head, a hand resting slightly on Shenner's shoulder. "No my friend, you were not wrong at all to be angry with such a comment. I would have become angered myself at such a thing. However, anger uncontrolled profits noone in any way." From the way Shenner suddenly goes still, it might be easily gleaned that she's unused to the man who's become her teacher making physical contact with her -- or pretty much anyone else, for that matter. But the hand on her shoulder does accomplish two things. It makes Shen glance slightly back over her shoulder, enough to show her mouth drawn up into a stoic little line, and the heat of her eyes accentuated by the heat that colors her cheeks. "I am controlling it," she mutters then, petulantly. "I didn't hit him." Jairen smiles warmly and assuringly back at the young woman. "Yes, you are. Now, you must learn to accept it and let it go." Seeing Jairen smile is almost more of a surprise to Shenner than his hand on her shoulder. She turns her head a little more, bemusement beginning to dislodge the aggravation in her emerald eyes. A bit of the tension starts to drain out of her features, and after a beat, she says huskily, "I'll get over it. It's... like I said. Personal." Jairen removes his hand, the assuring, fatherly smile disappearing, being replaced with a much normal looking one. "So, how go your other studies, hmm?" A hint of Shenner's lopsided grin tugs at the right side of her mouth. "Still workin' on the prerequisites for pilot licensing. Gonna be at that for a while. Not much else studying till the U opens back up..." She shrugs, turning raround fully on the stool to face her pale-haired companion. "Been spendin' time practicing a lot, like I said. I got five instruments and that takes a good chunk of time to keep up on 'em all. And I work out a lot." For a moment, she's almost wry, her eyes lightening. "Figured out a long time ago that workin' out makes me less pissed off, and plus, I don't wake up with a hangover like I do after four Corellian Suicides." "A wookiee would probably wake up with a hangover after four of those." Comes Jair's bemused comment. "As for working out, physical outlets have always been good for stress. Have you been practicing your blade?" The change of subject, away from whatever personal motivation she has for researching the bit of silver and brass she wears about her neck, seems to do Shenner good. Her face and frame relax, and she gives Jairen a rather larger version of the crooked grin. "I do those exercises you showed me every morning," she affirms. "Wakes me up. I've been beltin' back less kaffe these days." Jairen says, "Good... such things are not healty in great quanities." To this, Shenner actually laughs a little, a brief, husky little chuckle. "You're startin' to sound like Rekkie," she says lightly. There's something a little wistful lurking behind her eyes, though. Jairen looks amused at that. "I shall take that as a compliment then. However, I believe even your own medical science has shown that ingesting too much of foreign chemicals into your system can be hasardous." _That_ makes Shenner actually laugh out loud. "Yeah, but I ain't met a sentient species yet that doesn't eat, drink, inhale, or absorb _something_ that ain't good for 'em. Usually 'cause it's fun. Don't people ever get drunk where you come from?" Jairen shakes his head. "As a rule, no. Not with alchohal at any rate. Bloodlust a time or two, perhaps. However, chemical intoxication is usually reserved for one or two special festivals." "Chemical intoxication," Shenner repeats, her grin flaring up suddenly as her mercurial temperament swings back towards good humor, if nothing else at the mental image of what Jairen Windchaser would be like drunk. "You make it sound so clinical." Her tone's turned light, though, in obvious teasing, and then she tilts her head a bit as curiosity and interest add brightness to her gaze. "Tell me about 'em? The festivals, I mean." Jairen shrugs slightly. "There is truely not that much that is able to be told. They must be seen. We have a powerful wine that most other species can not ingest without adverse effects. During the Festival of Clensing we remove as many of the Iks from our lands as possible, then drink the Faerwine afterwards where there is much dancing and music." "Music is good," Shenner approves, sitting up a little. "What're 'icks', though?" Visions of a number of things that make Shen Veery go 'ick' cross her mind, but somehow, the musician's rather sure that that particular noise of human disgust is not what Jairen meant. "An Ik," the swordsman starts, "is another humanoid species that dwells on my homeworld. They have similar technological advances as the Jaer do. The resemble Gamoreans, however, they are smarter and faster, slimmer, and not quite as strong. They have no respect for nature and usually live in camps or caves. They most often serve the Mystics of the Dark Twin, having no honor." Gamorreans, Shenner knows, and in fact, rank on her personal list of Things That Make Shenner Go Ick, though a year on Mos Eisley taught her early on that expressing disgust to a Gamorrean is not generally wise unless you can either match them in size or beat them with weapons. "Huh," she muses, russet brows going up, just as the chrono encircling her left wrist intrudes a sharp little beep into the conversation. The musician starts, and then mutters a soft oath as she checks the time readout. "Hells. Jair, I gotta go." Her gaze comes up again to meet his, and she appends, "But will you tell me s'more about your homeworld sometime? I mean, hell -- you go adopting me into your clan, least I can do is learn something, huh?" Jairen smiles again. "All you ever needed do was request." Bows slightly. "Fair you well on your endeavors." Never mind that Shenneret Veery, after twenty years of self-sufficiency, is not used to asking anybody for anything. She rises, though, looking just a little awkward, just a little childlike. But she's also still grinning. "Yeah. Same to ya." She turns, then, to holler out to Ariani, "Hey, 'Ani, I'll be back in two hours, okay? Tell 'em not to start rehearsing without me!" A nod from the bartender is her reply, and then Shen flicks another grin back at her teacher and friend. "See ya round." With that, on swift and apparently urgent feet, she's gone, dashing out the door and into the square. [End log.]