Log:Home Security
Home Security
OOC Date: January 8, 2016
Location: Jakku
Participants: Rey, Fenwick Mare
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The rolling sand dunes of the northern dust fields.
This sand dunes are the flawless beauty of a desert-in-motion. They look almost like an ocean were frozen in time and turned in to a brilliant golden dust. During the day-time hours the Jakku System star beats down on the rolling sand dunes with a relentless heat that barely lets up during the night time hours, making it a requirement to find shelter to live out here for almost all forms of life.
Occassionally there can be found the tracks of an animal, or beast-of-burden used by local scavengers moving to-and-fro from the ship graveyards to the southeast, or toward Niima Outpost to the southwest.
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The Rolling Sands of Jakku are a punishing place. They are seemingly never-ending and only broken up by strange wreckages of a battle from nearly 30 years ago. A crashed Star Cruiser is the immediate backdrop of any place close to the Niima outpost. The Wrecked AT-AT is something further out, perhaps more personal. It lays almost buried in the orange sands of the planet. The only thing identifying it as something other than scrap that is free to salvage is the woman sitting outside of it. A long staff put together of scrap parts is planted next to her. A dented and dirty helmet from the Rebellion sits in her lap as she cleans and repairs it. Every once in awhile she looks up. Just because she is in what she considers a safe place doesn't mean that it is. That's what she's learned in this harsh environment.
The Rolling Sands of Jakku. Considering that Fenwick Mare has never been to such a place as this, rife with history and many a grain of sand altogether, he finds himself zipping easily along on a speeder bike. The vehicle is old but well-kept, reliable and nimble enough to have him enjoy riding it at a cruising speed. In the background, the remains of a star cruiser leisurely decays. At some point, he comes upon what appears to be another foreign object left abandoned to the environment. This is when he slows, the whine of a turbine growling in complaint before settling properly and calming. "Wow," is what he manages as he steps out and looks up the backside of, "An all-terrain model. Oh wow, look at that." Covered in armor, cloak, and sand goggles, he reaches for the blaster rifle hitched to the side of the parked vehicle and begins climbing towards it, unaware of any inhabitants.
At the approach of the speeder bike, Rey quickly scrambles upward. The dirty pilot helmet is gently dropped into the sand by her side. She picks up her staff and stalks forward, untrusting of anyone else with a speeder nearby. There are a few people who might wish to steal things from the place she called home. The approach of Fenwick's speeder is heard from the opposite side of the AT-AT. Climbing over the wreckage, she holds the staff in a ready position as she watches Fenwick approach.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, eyes narrowed at the man. She doesn't recognize him, which makes her all the more suspicious. "This isn't scrap. This is mine."
"I can't wait to tell the others about this." Fenwick continues to talk to himself as he glances down to his boots sinking gently into the sand as he climbs onward. It's an easy slope at least and doesn't strain him. The rifle has since been shouldered and his offhand retains the strap to keep it in place. "Wait," he pauses briefly, "I bet they've seen one of these in action. Of course they have. I could take a holo-?" Movement. Voice. He blinks behind his goggles and abruptly stops, hesitant. He remains silent for what feels like the longest of times. The man's head tilts to the right. His voice lifts to carry up to the vehicle and the girl, and he sounds curious. "Wait, who are you? That can't be yours. It's scrap."
The staff of scavenged parts raises all the higher as Rey narrows her eyes at Fenwick. She stalks slightly closer. Her clothes are light, but dirty grey and her arm wraps have dutifully kept her arms safe and out of the sun. A cloth helmet circles her head, her goggles pressed upwards to give her better peripheral sight in case this man has someone he is communicating with. He certainly seems to be talking to someone.
"I've just told you that this is not scrap," she repeats for him. "And I'll prove it to you if you don't step backward."
Fenwick looks at the staff. It does not look friendly. His left hand tightens around the strap of the blaster rifle. It's an old E-11, an Empire's standard issue, but she's already prepared for a fight and he's been caught off-guard. As much as he would like to move, he does not want to intentionally appear threatening. "Well, this is awkward. I think we got off on the wrong foot? Because it looks like scrap. It smells like scrap. It's nice scrap, really nice scrap," he needs to stop saying that word but he tries to smile with his accidental insults at least, "But it's still... you know... scrap."
As Fenwick's hand tightens around the blaster rifle, Rey notices that. She jumps off the hull of the AT-AT and holds the staff outward toward the man in front of her. "How many times do I have to tell you this is not scrap." She studies Fenwick and his jump suit and does not find anything that means she should stand down. "This is mine." His smile is met with a studied look. She doesn't trust in people - especially those who seem to have an invested interest in this AT-AT. "And I don't care how nice it smells to you, that doesn't mean that it is yours for the taking." The smiles are only met with more intense scrutiny. This is not a woman who trusts people easily. "What are you doing here?"
Fenwick presses his lips together into a flat smile and takes a half-step back because the girl is launching herself relatively towards him and that giant stick only looks more threatening. He releases hold of his blaster rifle's sling but it moves closer to his hand when he drops that limb, too, because he doesn't want to get attacked. "Hey, I don't want to take anything! I don't even know who you are, you crazy stick-lady. I'm out looking for things and if you don't put that thing down then I'm going to have to hurt you." That may just be why he finally does reach for his blaster with another step back for proper footing against the uneven terrain.
Every movement Fenwick makes is studied by Rey. And just because use has a blaster doesn't mean that she's intimidated by him. She has stood her ground against quite a few intruders. "If you don't wish to take anything, then I recommend the step backward," she tells him evenly. This has nothing to do with pride or posturing. This place is Rey's home and she will defend it no matter what. She tilts her head just sideways at the mention of looking for things. "What sorts of things are you looking for?" His hand toward the blaster is met with a stern look and a swing forward of the staff. "If you try to shoot me, you will certainly regret it."
Fenwick avoids the idea of backing down any further, trusting in his innocence of not wanting to collect this scrap for his own or anything of the sort. He has the blaster rifle in his hands but at least he doesn't intend on readily shooting her. A shift of the thumb verifies that it is set to stun rather than lethal -- he is clearly a gentleman -- and then the staff comes swinging forward. He steps hesitantly back and lifts it towards the young woman. It prompts him to shout back at her, "Whoa, stop that!" This is going south relatively quickly. "I don't want your scrap!"
While Fenwick does not back up any further, Rey closes the distance between to two of them. Her staff remains between the pair and she studies the man with very precise and untrusting eyes. "Not until you lower your blaster," she tells him. She has a melee weapon, one less likely to cause lingering damage. And she also thinks of this as her property. "If you don't want it, prove it." By proving it, he'd lower his weapon. Being stunned and thefted from can be just as damaging as being shot and killed. If he doesn't put the weapon down, she'll attempt to knock him about the shoulders and head to push him backward.
"I'm not lowering my blaster. You lower your stick- staff." Fenwick continues to refrain from backing down from Rey and bristles even further when she crosses the distance between the two of them. He opens to say something further, breathlessly finds himself speechless, and when he attempts to say something again he's getting batted in the arms. That produces a noise of complaint, and then another, followed by a third when he tries to duck his head away from the blow aimed towards his face. He may not fight back but in his defense the man manages not to accidentally pull the trigger as he tries to shield himself. In the next moment, he's losing his footing and falling onto his back. Sand settles around him.
"Quit that! I just was going to take a holopic." Fen yammers on quickly, "I said I didn't want your karking scrap, lady! Look- look, I'm dropping it- okay? That proof enough?"
Rey is not scared of Fenwick Mare. She has lived on Jakku by herself for long enoughh that such fears don't matter. When he doesn't lower his blaster, she has no qualms about rapping him a few times with her staff to show him that she means business. She's not attempting to permanently injure or hurt him. But, she will not take someone encroaching on her space. As Fenwick falls onto his back, Rey stands over him, staff held in readied position. When he lowers his weapon and yammers, she looks at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. It takes a few moments while she studies him. Then, she steps backward and allows him to pick himself up. The mention of a holopic is met with something of a curious look. "What were you going to do with the holopic?"
As a sign of please-stop-hitting-me, Fenwick has dropped the blaster and the carbine sits somewhere at his right side in the sand collecting all sorts of dirt. The hitting stops. She is talking at him. He carefully and ever so slowly lowers his arms from his face and relaxes himself further until looking curiously back up at her. She's giving him room to collect himself, so he does that. "I was going to stick it with all of my other pictures of interesting things that I see during my travels." The blaster ends up being slung across his front and he lowers the sand goggles from his face. The cloak is pushed back and more of his hodge-podge, lightly armored self is revealed with him shrugging helplessly, glancing away.
When his eyes return back on Rey, he's studying her. "What's it to you? Going to hit me some more? I can shoot you, you know."
"You can //try//," Rey tells Fenwick at his bravado. Though she may have stepped back from standing over him and hitting him with her staff, she is still quite capable with it. She will gladly go back to depending her AT-AT should he give her a reason to need to do so.
"There are quite a few AT-ATs to photograph. There's an entire graveyard to the north. Past Niima Outpost. This is an outlier." And so when Fenwick moved by here, she assumed he was there to steal something from here.
Fenwick huffs under his breath at the thought of- of, well, getting hit again. It's not a very pleasant thing and she still retains her staff. She points out that there is an apparent graveyard of AT-ATs to photograph which only makes him look up and then off into the general direction of northerly of Niima Outpost. He slowly nods, having not known that. He mutters incoherently under his breath before refocusing back on her. "Okay, //okay//, it's yours. I get that. I don't want it. I don't even know who you are." By then, he's holding his hands up to better convey some measure of innocence. Speaking of, he continues. "I'm Fenwick, yeah? People call me Fen. I fix broken sentients, and let random stick-wielding women beat me up."
Rey is not used to dealing with outsiders. She assumes most people here know what the lay of the land is. "Good." At his acknowledgement that the AT-AT is hers and that he will not photograph it or attempt to steal anything from it, she moves backward from him. She plants her staff purposefully in the sand to show him that she's not about hit him any more should he wish to sit and stand up. "I'm no one," She tells him honestly. This is not an attempt to conceal an identity. "I scavenge parts from the ships and surrounding us," she tells him. "You're not from around here, are you?" she asks him. one of the give aways is that she doesn't know him. Otherwise, he doesn't have the look of someone desperate for parts of rations. A smirk crosses her face. "You didn't let a random woman beat you up. I made sure that happened.
Fenwick takes a moment to just look at the staff, because it's a weapon. Then again, it is currently not being wielded against him. His hands drop to his sides. After another moment is spent just standing there and looking at her, he moves the blaster rifle out from his front and nearer to his lower back and underneath the cloak. It keeps it out of the way and in his relative background to show her that he does not intend on shooting her in the back, or front, or any other direction that comes to mind. As distracted as he is, he shrugs back at her. No one.
"Well, ahh- eh, I'm a doctor- not a scavenger." Explains Fen, again, in case his previous description was too uninformative. Her question warrants a shake of his head though. "I travel. I also let a random woman beat me up. You're just being confident. That's all- caught me off-guard... so, I'm //sorry//. It looks like scrap and not a home, and I'm not a thief."
As the blaster is moved backward, Rey nods slightly at Fenwick. It's easier to address people when threats aren't in the way. The staff is now out of play. "A doctor." The thought of it captures Rey. She's not sick but she knows many people who could benefit from a physician. "Are you planning on staying on?" It's a foolish question. No on stays on Jakku if they can help it.
Fenwick's apology is met with a wave of her arm. It practically means nothing to her, despite the ferocity she defended herself earlier. "It would have happened similarly despite your guard," She tells the man with a quirk of her lips. She's quite a confident woman. "And despite your thoughts, it is a home. As long as you don't attempt to steal anything, there's no apologies necessary."
Fenwick shrugs. "Not forever." It's as honest as he can get when it comes to whether or not he intends on staying on Jakku. He looks down to where one of his boots is idly kicking at the sand, watching the grains shift to and fro under his ministrations. It's just a minor distraction for he's speaking up at length about the idea of staying on a giant planet made of beach. "I'm here with a crew. They don't need me right now, so I get to enjoy the weather and meet the people. Help people that need it, things like that. Like keep my guard intact, thank you very much, lady." He folds his arms across his front, shaking his head. Fen's eyes drift up to the would-be home though. There's a moment where he just looks at it, and then in the direction of the Outpost off on the horizon, and then at Rey, and then at her home again. "So you just live out here? Rhetorical, I know. It's just not the first thing I'd expect. Or the second, or third. Maybe the fourth, if I came from that direction over there."
Forever is not a term Rey usually deals in. She's waiting for people who will eventually return. This means she takes days one at a time. "Seems like you need it more than I do," she replies, chin tilting upward with a bit of pride. As his arms cross in front of him and he studies the AT-AT behind her, she frowns, her arms mimicking his in a cross. "Yes, I just live out here. Rhetorical or no. What did you expect? Sand forever?"
Fenwick stops pointing in the direction that he just was talking about, and shuffles somewhat in place. He's back to folding his arms across his chest but then she mimics his pose and he undoes them, making a brief face at her. He wants her to stop parroting him! "I don't know what I expected. I just didn't expect this, or you, or an all-terrain armored transport just sitting here in the open with you inside of it, with a stick, mind you." He nods briefly at the staff. Fen looks at the speeder bike, his, and then looks around in noticing more and more things that makes this point a home instead of a lump of waste and scrap.
"What were you expecting?" Rey watches Fenwick with a defensive air. Just because she's no longer beating on him means that she trusts him. "You can sit on the sand," she replies magnanimously. "The sand has no claims." On her AT-AT or anything, as it shifts quite often. A curious look is paid the man as she moves back against her home to allow Fenwick some space. "Battles like what?" she's certainly curious. All the thing that happened here happened before she was born.
Maybe sand forever, but for sure Fenwick can be honest about his possible expectations. She says he can sit on the sand. He does just that without complaint or further. It's at an angle in order to be both comfortable and be some fashion of sociable. "What do you mean, battles like what?" he asks in return, but the curiosity explodes into growing excitement. He begins to go in better depth regarding the waning Galactic Civil War but this is also before his time. He only has his parents and older friends, his crew, to go off of but this happens to be something of interest; energetic and enthusiastic, and offering to share his food supplies for having allowed him to stick around for a little while before being on his way. When he does leave, he manages with a short wave and heads in the direction of the graveyard rather than return to the outpost. He still needs that holopic and preferably before the sun disappears.
