Cirr began to shake with a boistrous belly laugh. She actually did it! The silly cubling did it!
He waited for the inevitable response to her drink.
Cirr began to shake with a boistrous belly laugh. She actually did it! The silly cubling did it!
He waited for the inevitable response to her drink.
Oh by the Bloodline it was STRONG!!! Or at least that's what it seemed like!
But! She wasn't about to let Cirr think she was a sissy - after all, Tak was sure that her husband, Wyl, would think she wasn't tough enough to stomach the drink, since he probably drank stuff like this all the time. Instead, the young Lupine swallowed very slowly, and once she was sure that she wouldn't spit any up, turned to smile triumphantly at Cirr.
"Oh how kind of them." The sarcasm was more lighthearted than earlier, something Charles wanted to attribute more to the fact that her mug of spiced ale had gone empty rather than the fact she was talking to Starborn.Originally Posted by Dashiel Starborn
"Probably something suitably risky and life-threatening, I'd imagine." The last tiny bit of spiced ale that was in her mug was finished off and she looked back to Dashiel.
"So with that to look forward to..." Her mug was raised slightly and clinked against his own. "How about another round?"
"Sure thing."
With a grin on my face, I turned and walked with a bit of swagger to my gait, yanked a fork off the nearest person's plate and clinked it against my glass.
"S'cuse me, s'cuse me, can I have everyone's attention here?"
Cirr looked at the Lupine like she had lobsters coming out of her ears, and calmly took the cup back from her.
"Uh, good job kjid."
His ears flitted a few times as he looked from her to the glass and back. Damn, that didn't work.
Her throat still burned, but she was sure to put on a smile anyway. She was glad she didn't have to drink anymore, but she was determined to still make Cirr think she could handle it.
"Can I have my own?"
Twirling to a halt as his dance partner released him and clasped the hands of another, Jamo swayed for a moment before catching his balance. He grinned as he watched the girl dance away, with only a kiss on the cheek to remember her by.
A voice rose above the chatter and murmur, drawing Jakatta's attention. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched Prent with smirking curiosity.
Ben and Lyanie had kept up with the sabacc game for a bit longer after the Cap'n had left, but soon enough he'd felt the draining sensation of boredom coming on.
Leaving the hand half finished on the table, he warily watched the rest of the party-goers and stayed uncommonly (well, as far as anyone but Lyanie knew) quiet, simply enjoying the fun and happiness that surrounded him.
It was like having a family again.
She got him that time - just in the chest, though. A smirk grew on his face as he finished packing the third ball of another trio of snowballs after being pelted and was just about to take aim and fire when the unmistakable voice of one Sanis Prent hovered over the assembled. Perris' smirk dimmed to a civil smile as he considered the multitude of reasons why Prent of all people would want everyone's attention. Most every of those reasons landed in a heap of trouble. Recreational trouble, usually.
"Whaddya want, Prent?" Kelly shouted over the crowds. "One pretty girl not enough attention for ya?"
Kelly stood there, jumping a snowball up from his hand, over and over again, waiting to see what incendiaries the rebel had for his targets this time. Sanis thought he was the greatest thing since ryshcate and Kelly was more than happy to show him up for shits and giggles. After all, he hadn't been a fully operational fighter pilot for nearly thirteen years by pretending. He would claim longer, but sitting in the confines of an Academy didn't count. Not to him.
The brunette grinned in triumph, but only for a moment - thwapping the Commander solidly in the chest would certainly earn her some form of retribution. Her smile didn't dim as she knelt once more to pack more snowballs, balancing them on a low tree limb to be within easy reach. It was the loud obnoxious voice she knew all too well. Wrinkling her nose, she grabbed two of her snowballs and stepped out of her cover enough to be able to see the source.
Carré was about to retort something similar when the Commander chimed in, and she simply grinned, bouncing a snowball in each hand as she waited for Sanis' latest proclamation. If nothing else, he made an excellent target, standing in a clearing near the bar like that.
Big blue eyes were as bright as reddened cheeks in the firelight. Saricia wasn't expecting Sanis to take her light humor so seriously. Now her joke had become a dare, a very loud dare which was causing far too much attention upon either them, as evident by Perris' retort.
She wanted to slink down against the ground and watch the travesty that was to occur through have opened hands - like a young pup cowering, but she did not. Like a bad speeder wreck, Saricia was too transfix upon Sanis for her own good ...
I could see the red on Saricia's cheeks. She hadn't thought about that, had she?
"It's been brought to my attention by this pretty lady right here that some of you, in fact, might disagree that I'm the best escort pilot in the Alliance by a parsec or two."
I scanned the crowd, making a show of it.
"Let's see a show of hands on that one."
"No."
Cirr made a face at the obviously insane lupine child. Hoping to stem the tide of any possible beginnings to Tak's alcoholism, he hefted her up, planted her down on the adjacent stool, and asked the barkeep to whip her up a steaming hot caco. A warm sugar-rich drink should keep her distracted from that sort of thing, right?
As he was sorting out the Tak problem, his ears twitched as Sanis began to essentially provoke every single pilot within earshot. Cirr sighed, his shoulders sagging as he did. Saricia looked, well, mortified.
"Ohh, I certainly disagree."
Carré replied, before her internal "Don't Say Anything, Idiot" filter could engage. And it wasn't even a quiet reply. It was loud. Her voice carried just as much as it had that day in the mess hall.
With an arched brow and two well-made snowballs in her hands, she simply stood and debated over throwing one or both of them at the Sanis.
Jamo punched one hand into the air, though the fact that only his middle-finger was extended suggested he wasn't entirely in agreement with Sanis.
“You're the best at something alright, Prent... talkin' outta y'r cargo hold.”
“This is why they keep throwing us together,” Starborn said, as he knocked his mug against Charlotte's. “You've got a knack for knowing exactly what I'm thinking.”
They were fortunate to find that not all of the cauldron's of ale had been drained yet. As he ladled out two generous measures – full to the brim – Dash heard the jeering and shouting come from what was unmistakably Rogue Squadron. He nudged Tur'enne in the side and, smirking, nodded off towards the swaggering rocket-jockeys.
“Aren't you glad you never went to flight school... they're gonna be living this one down for weeks.”
She'd only gotten one sip out of her caco drink, but knew in a second that it was loads better than Cirr's drink. It was sweet, and definitely something Dama wouldn't ever let her have. Dad might.
Suddenly distracted by the sound of Sanis' voice, the little Lupine whirled her head around in its' direction, her tauntaun horns jingling. She didn't know exactly what he or any of the other people were talking about, but it didn't sound like they were particularly happy - like how Dama sounded whenever she was telling her how young Lupines weren't supposed to behave in such unruly ways.
In a flash she was up and standing in her seat, a rather perturbed figure in too many layers of clothes and fuzzy jingle bell tauntaun horns.
"Hey!"
Her voice, like any child's voice, had a wonderful way of carrying out over the crowd.
"Sanis is a great pilot! And he's great at lots of other things too, like playing cards, and shooting, and playing My Little Dewback, so be nice!"
Last edited by Teagan s'Ilancy; Jan 3rd, 2010 at 10:38:44 AM.
She was just about to make some sort of 'my hero' comment as Dash refilled her mug before the ruckus with Rogue Squadron started up. Some smartass comment was brimming on the edge of being spoken in return when a child near the bar stood up and made some sort of announcement regarding one of the pilots.
A slight snort of amusement left her before she began emptying the refilled drink. "Oh you have no idea."
It only took a small handful of steps to get the young sniper closer to the bar itself, taking the opportunity of the little girl's catching everyone's attention to snag two shots from the bartender. Corellian rum by the smell of them, the barkeep must have been handing them out to someone else and had them at the ready, not that it had mattered much to Charles what they were, but anything Corellian was fine by her. Both glasses were carefully palmed and balanced in one hand, the mug of ale held firmly in the other.
A quick jaunt back placed her on the edge of the crowd and back with Starborn. As most were waiting with baited breath to see what would come from the cute kid with the tauntaun horns and the pilots, Charles grabbed one of the shot glasses with her teeth, shoving the free one into Dash's hand. With that done she quickly took her own shot from her hold with her mouth, only to down it quickly, enjoying the gentle burning sensation the stronger alcohol gave on the way down.
"So what the frink made you want to play spy anyway? I figure everyone's got a story, but your folks aren't in Intel as far as I know... your sis is though, huh?"
“Cousin,” he said, moments before knocking back his shot of rum. It burned all the way down to his stomach. “Everyone makes that mistake though, so no worries.”
With only a few years between them, Dash and Jane had shared much of their childhood. When his wife had been killed, Regulus Starborn had buried himself into his duties, leaving Dash in the care of his sister and Dash's aunt, Celeste. The woman was as hard and cold as a Hoth ice-storm but she had kept the boy on the straight and narrow, when all he'd wanted to do was yell a big fuck you to everything his father stood for. The same couldn't be said for Salvo, the elder of Regulus's sons, but that was another story.
“Some families start up repair shops, others raise nerf... the Starborn's enlist in the Rebel Alliance,” Starborn said, perfectly matter-of-fact. He shrugged. “I'm not tough enough for the military, not enough stick up my ass to get into the navy. Intel seemed like the best of a bad bunch.”
This last part was said, taking a cue from Tur'enne, with a note of sarcasm.
“No stuffy uniform, and I hear the retirement benefits aren't too bad, if you can survive the day-to-day.”
“I don't remember ever paying it any special notice.”
If the confession saddened Daria, it didn't show. The luxuries of celebration and relaxation had not been things she had ever craved, or indeed known. She opened her eyes and looked to the sky, to the hundreds upon thousands of stars above, each of them brilliant in their own right yet appearing as little more than flickering dots from down on Yavin 4's surface.
“As far back as I can remember, every day has always been as vital as the one before it.”
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