Log:Hutt Cartel: Battle of the Ryns

Battle of the Ryns

OOC Date: April 25, 2018
Location: Eebua VIP Lounge - Hutt District, Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Yoska Lash, Maireni, Quentin Haslett, Usha, Myra Bale, Jaro Mabrin

Is this even a meeting? Because it seems that no matter the occasion you cannot wipe the party vibe of the Emerald Club VIP lounge. Not even if you stuff it with a certain amount of select Cartel members. Shady beings of all shapes and sizes are scattered around the room, schmoozing around or drinking from the bar as they wait to see what they were called in for. Security on the lounge this evening is tight, letting in only Cartel and no one else.

Usha, the master of ceremonies for the evening, is sitting atop the bar for it is the only way she can get a higher view of the crowd. Next to her are the only two exceptions to the security clearance - Yoska and Maireni. The Ryn duo sit on barstools next to Quentin, who is manning a shoe-sized box labeled 'FRAGILE.'

What's in the box, in the box? What's in the box today? Well I'll tell you what's in the box. Nothing you need concern yourself with. Quentin was quiet, haughty as ever, holding on to the shoe-sized medical crate. There was something resembling a smile on his face, if one could call the corners of the mouth twisting upwards in a manner best described as 'thoroughly unsettling and just a tad insane' a smile. This didn't help when it came to fitting in. In fact, the slightly crazed doctor stood out like a chained Hutt at a slave auction.

Yoska Lash is perched on his barstool with his knees drawn up to his chest, feet on the stool seat, tail dangling down and winding around the bottom. He looks exactly like he always does, more or less, and he's settling metal knuckles over his hands, wiggling his fingers. "...I'm just saying that Hopp's science can beat up your science and take its lunch money. No offense. It's okay to be second best, Haslett, ya feel me?" He grins and then looks at his sister and speaks something in another language, something halfway between singing and whistling.

"No same in second place," Maireni agrees, feet dangling several inches above the floor. She's got a skort on, and a sleeveless top. There's some war paint on her face, which is really just neon blue stripes under her eyes. There is glitter in it. She's also wearing some real heavy boots, in case kicking becomes necessary. "Yoyo can tell you all about what it's like being second place, he loses a lot."

Bouncing in on cheerful feet comes Myra Bale, a tiny woman with a giant beaming smile that brightens the room a few lumens from the reflection of her pearly white teeth. The small lady's face is eclipsed by her massive effusiveness, which is a good thing for her because the face itself is rather plain, a pinched nose between two owlish green eyes. "Oh, goodness me, there are two of them," she murmurs to no one in particular in her lilting Coruscanti accent, a dainty hand clutching at something inside her coat. Approaching at a careful tiptoe, her eyes narrow slightly, cheerful tone faltering somewhat as she looks from one Ryn to the other and sticks a delicate hand out towards Maireni. "I'm Myra, it's ever so... wonderful to meet you, really it is... You must be a friend of Mister Yoska's. I'm Myra, Myra Bale." Turning towards Usha, the hand will stick out towards her as well. "And you must be running tonight's demonstration! How marvelous, it's really just the most frightfully exciting thing to have a Hutt in the Emerald Club again, really it is. Delighted to make your acquaintance."

Jaro Mabrin makes his way into the VIP lounge after checking in with security. A tip of the hat is given to one of the Cartel guards before he makes his way into the thick of the VIP lounge, amber gaze flitting about to study the various denizens and shady individuals. He makes his way toward the bar, amber gaze flitting down toward the shoe-sized box guarded by the good Doctor, lips edging into a hint of a frown. "Whiskey. Corellian." He asks of the bar keep in a deep, rough hued voice. As the bar keep prepares his drink, he fishes into his overcoat, retrieving a worn packet of cigarras, and turns to silently regard the others circling about for the demonstration.

"Ugh." Enthusiasm. There was no place for enthusiasm in Quentin's world of SCIENCE. He rolled his eyes at the bouncing bundle of fun that had introduced herself as Myra Myra Bale. Quentin, you're an old salty man and you need to cheer up once in a while. Might do you some good. "You will see," he said to Yoska. To this day, Q had still not given back the drugs he confiscated from the child. "This 'Hop' you speak of," named after an action, how absurd, "is a fifth-rate back alley hacksaw.... /medic/," SCORN, "who has all the scientific know-how of an army of ranats mashing away at datapads. That is to say, none."

Usha can't help but smile back at Myra, because a bright, positive face is just SO damn contagious for a Zeltron, who is perpetually thirsty for good vibes. "I've been hearing that sentiment around quite often lately," she shakes the woman's hand. "I'm Usha. Please Myra, sit. Have a drink." Even during meetings, she's playing hostess as if this were a lovely mixer. To the bartender who just took Jaro's order, she calls, "Not a single credit. Refreshments are on the Cartel tonight." (Sorry Majun!!!)

When enough people have gathered, tiny Usha stands atop the bar to gather everyone's attention. "Thank you everyone for joining us for this very special presentation," she begins. The Zeltron signals to Quentin to begin the task she's assigned him. "Earlier today I received a shipment of an experimental serum called CES 189, which was synthesized to decrease one's sense of fear and dull pain receptors while simultaneously increasing aggression." Usha watches as the doctor does his work. "We have here two creatures who have kindly volunteered their time and bodies to demonstrate this serum for us today."

"Dad issa saayyy, NUN," Yoska mocks Quentin in a fuddy-duddy voice, hands akimbo like a fussy housewife. Then Myra is there and he winks at her ostentatiously with a "Myyyyrrrraaa," and then, "Nah, not my friend, my sister." Usha gets up and introduces everyone and he shuts up for a moment, but only a moment, before he takes exception. "Um, HELLO, creatures, no, PEOPLE," he snaps in the shape of a Z, "Try not to be so ignorant, yah! Or you can have your money back and we'll walk!" Zero percent chance of that happening. They already spent it on something stupid.

Maireni is boucing on the stool, having a hard time staying still, and she's not even on the drugs yet. The hand is thrust out at her, taking it after a beat and giving it a shake. "Nice to meet you, Moira." She wasn't really listening, sorry Myra. "Heeeey," she swings her attention around to Quentin. "Them are some real unhappy words comin' out your mouth, but I get it, yeah? I get it. He's so bad and all that, and you're behind him in the whole science race. That's gotta really sting your ego somethin' fierce." She digs a piece of candy out of her pocket and slides it over to Quentin. "Here, this'll help." It's literally just sugar, it won't help at all. "HEY! I'm a people too!" she protests, then thinks about it and still makes a firece face, showing off pointy teeth and pretending to snarl at Yoska.

"Ahem, excuse me," Myra butts in politely, reaching out to tap Usha on the foot. "For one thing, let me just say that I absolutely adore these shoes. Wherever did you find them? They're terribly cute, I must have you show me all of your favorite stores now, there's nothing for it, really there isn't." A vacant blink up at the Zeltron woman, and then something sparks in her eyes. "Oh! Right, ehm, forgive me if you've already thought of this, but you said that it is supposed to make them lose their sense of fear and increase aggression, correct? Which is wonderful, of course, I can think of so many uses, really I can, but ehm. Why then did you pick these two? How will you know if it's working?"

Jaro Mabrin taps the end of the cigarra packet against the palm of his hand, grabbing the cigarra that protrudes furthest. He gives Usha a quick salute when it is made clear that the drinks are to be free, before he brings the cigarra to his lips and lights it. A few quick puffs are taken, wisps of spicy-smelling smoke lingering about him as he props his arm upon the bar top and silently observes the banter amongst the Ryn siblings, Myra, and Quentin. A curt nod is given to the bar keep as a glass of amber liquid is set down before him, hand quickly encircling the glass.

FINALLY. Ignoring all efforts to get under his skin (hint: they were succeeding), Quentin opened the medical box and removed two syringes. "Hold still, this won't hurt a bit," he blatantly lied. Standing in front of the two irritating Ryn, he jammed a syringe into each neck (thankfully in the right spot, since he was irritable and acting quickly) and promptly emptied the contents into their bloodstreams. Success. Perhaps now they'd shut up. "Now please, commence the act of killing each other. Put on a show. Leave a mess. By all means." His irritation was palpable. He stepped back to his medical crate, put the two empty syringes inside to be disposed of safely later, and sealed the lid. "Ryn. Ugh."

"Hey ow OW," Yoska protests as he gets jabbed with a needle, hand going to the injection site after the syringe is already gone. "It hurts and stings!" he protests, and really, neither of these kids look like they're regularly in the habit of fighting. They look a lot more likely to steal your wallet than bust your head in, Mari's stomping boots notwithstanding. But they're jabbed now, and the plan seems to be for them to have a go at each other, but... Yoska's tail puffs up a little and lashes like an unhappy cat, and he stabs an accusing finger at... Quentin. "Ryn? 'Ryn' what? Say it again, ya kriffing night-blind fold-wipe." Someone should probably focus the test subjects back at, you know, each other.

Maireni whines as she's given the shot, which should make Quentin feel better after all their vicious taunting. Her tail also lashes back and forth with annoyance, eyeing the doctor like she might jump at him at any moment. "YEAH, SAY WHAT YOU MEAN MAN!" She doesn't get up yet, but her but is scooting close and closer to the edge of the seat. Either the drugs are really doing their job already, or she's just antsy. Or both! Probably both.

"Excellent question, Myra," Usha replies. And she IS talking both about the boots and the serum inquiry. But htey will definitely talk boots later. "Short answer is ... I don't know yet. This drug is very much in the testing phase and will require live specimens to fine tune its effects. As the serum takes hold in the Ryn bodies, the Zeltron explains to the group, "And we, the Cartel, are going to provide that by hosting a fighting competition."

A space opens up in the middle of the floor for Yoska and Maireni to take their places. All the while Usha continues, "We will advertise for 6 to 8 fighters from all around Nar Shaddaa to a hand-to-hand fighting competition in the pits. Entrance fee will be about 500 credits. First and second place will win a credit prize. Meanwhile, all contestants will be unknowingly injected with this serum while we collect data on their performance." When the Ryns are ready they may begin what they came here to do.

Sithspawn. Ahem. "Hm," said Quentin, pondering quietly. He always did this whenever he'd made a dramatic error. In this case, antagonizing two highly aggressive wet noodles. This could be bad. "The people down there," he said, pointing to the open area of space that had been so helpfully cleared, "will pay you two million credits to fight each other. Do so." Was it a lie? Absa-bloody-lutely. Would it save Q's bacon? Un-bloody-likely.

"Marvelous, really," Myra remarks drolly, clambering up onto a barstool to get a better view of the action. She's really small. Her next destination is Quentin, who she uses as a support while she gets to her feet atop the stool. "Mister Yoska, be a dear and pummel your sister's face, would you? If you do a terrific job I might consider giving you a kiss on the cheek, alright darling?" A big, sweet smile is offered to the Ryn, green eyes blinking rapidly. "You too, dear," she calls to Maireni, leaning heavily on Quentin, although she's so small that it's not really a big deal. "See if you can bite his fingers off! How exciting! Usha, wherever did you find this serum? I should very much like to carry a sample with me, really I would."

"Should get the two lizards that fought each other in the Pit Fighter's Palace to take on a dose each and go at it." Jaro Mabrin comments roughly, before a deep drag from his cigarra and exhaling through his nose. "Sure it will put on quite the show. Especially the big one..." Raising his glass up to slosh the amber liquid about, squinting his eyes to recall the name, "Grom, I believe, the crowd was chanting." He turns to watch the two Ryn and the space created for the impromptu fight, interest alighting in his amber gaze.

Yoska Lash is eyeing Quentin like he's about to jump that doctor and pummel him with all his antagonized wet noodle strength. He's all still except for a tail twitch... twitch... and as much as he claimed they're not "creatures", it's clear that when creatures act that way, it's never good. Maybe he was starting to be swayed by the two miiiiiiilllion credits, but it's the promise of Myra smooches that finally seals the deal. Abruptly he jumps off the stool and heads to the cleared area, holding his hands out in a 'wut' kind of gesture at Maireni. "Come at me, you ratchety hoe! That weave still looks tore up!" When she does close in, though, she's quicker...

Maireni's looking similiarly ruffled and inclined to go at the doctor, but then there's a promise of credits and smooches, and she might just be dumb enough to believe she has a chance at both. Best to not take chances. She leaps off the stool and toward the cleared space for the fight. "I'm not ratchety you blub gluging nerf gurgler!" Don't even ask her what that means, she couldn't tell you, it's nonsense, but she doesn't waste any thought on that fact, she's already diving at her brother with all 'dem' glittering rings aiming for his face. CRACK! Knuckles and rings connect. Ouch. "YEAH HOW YOU LIKE THAT?! I'M GONNA GET THAT SMOOCH, YOU FLEABAG!"

Not a big deal? Lady, Doctor Q was recoiling in utter, utter revulsion. His face was yanked out of its impassive haughty state and into a twisted contorted mess of utter disgust and disdain. His personal space had been breached! Invaded! Violated! "Cease accosting me!" he ordered the woman, loudly, and sounding more than a little bit shrill. Last time he sounded like this, someone had told him that not having a medical license meant he couldn't practice medicine. "I do not intend to be mistaken for an individual who obtains companionship at an hourly rate!" O boi you did not just. The chance of Quentin getting out of this one unscathed were the same as Sar Yavok having a bath.

Jaro Mabrin plucks his cigarra from his lips and taps it over an ash tray on the bar top, all the while keeping an eye on the ensuing fight, surreal as it is. "Does it improve their agility?" He ponders aloud before raising the glass of whiskey to his lips and tossing back the amber liquid. He hisses through his teeth as the liquid burns down his throat, and he sets the empty glass down on the bar top, signalling a refill.

Yoska and Maireni have undeniable resemblance, and they were both solidly on a united front of accosting Quentin earlier. Family! Doesn't seem to matter now though, because the two kids are going at it like rabid raccoons. Yoyo yelps "AGGHH!" when Mari punches him solidly in the face, stumbling back, then dives at her and there's a brief period of scratching, flailing, hair pulling, and kicking while they don't really get anywhere. These are not trained fighters. It's no Grishk vs. Grom fight... but there's something to be said for that, that people who ostensibly look out for each other and don't usually do this are DOIN THIS. It's both ridiculous and ferocious. Yoska's bleeding from the mouth. "That boyfriend of yours from New Vertica sends his regaaaaards," Yoska taunts Maireni, which is probably about to go poorly for him.

Someone somewhere served Usha a Martini and she sips it while nodding to Jaro, " Well, let's hope Grom will answer to the call so that he can draw us in a big crowd." She also says to the Mirialan, "I don't discourage Cartel from participating, but know that you will be volunteering as a test subject." A dimply smile is directed toward Myra, "A sample? Oh darling of course! That brings me very much to my next point."

"Once our data has been collected, we will use it to finalize the serum and sell it to off-world buyers. Between the fighting competition and the final deal, it should add significant capital that the Cartel very much needs." The idea of that pleases Usha as she watches this fight go down. With a wink to Myra she says, "I can save a little bit of samples for you though."

"Oh, my!" Myra nearly slips from her perch atop the stool when Quentin recoils away from her, but she uses the doctor to catch her balance, latching onto his shoulder. "Pish tosh, my good man, everyone in this club knows I'm much too flat in the chest and fat in the wallet to need your credits," the tiny woman assures him, tousling his hair with dainty fingers. She's all up in his personal space. The insults the Ryn siblings exchange draws her attention back to the fighting, an unladylike snerk catching in her nose. "Goodness, look at them go. With any luck they'll both wind up unconscious, won't they? Then we can tie them together and find a nice dumpster for them, oh, I can hardly wait, can you?" she asks him, still being as handsy as she can get away with from the pedestal, turning a beaming smile towards Usha. "This is just frightfully wondrous, I really must thank you for putting on an incredible show. You've outdone yourself, really you have."

There is a lot of limb flailing on Maireni's part, nails raking at Yoska, hair pulling, maybe some fur flying. A little gem pops out of one of her rings and goes clattering across the floor. Don't worry, it's fake. She stumbles back for a moment to catch her breath and eye her brother warily, but the mention of the boyfriend has her looking both horrified and furious. "I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY NACARDO!" Once again she leaps at Yoska like a rabid little beast, and whether she meant to do it or not, her elbow connects with him in a way that smarts for her a little (way less than it should thanks to the drugs) but does way more damage to him. "He thought your dancing was bad! He laughed about it!" The fighting pauses so that she can badly and aggressively do dance moves at Yoska.

Oh this would not do! It would not do at all! Despite her admirable idea with regards to the Ryn siblings, one mildly good trait does not resolve violated personal space! Quentin shuddered, very regularly, and tried to pull his hair away from the handsy Coruscanti. "Oh by the Queen Mother!" he swore, loudly, and took three steps away from the bar, the drinks, the chaos, and the sithspawned woman. If she fell, she fell, Q didn't care. The feelings of anyone but himself held little place in the small shrivelled black thing that occupied the space where other people stored their hearts.

Yoyo and Mari have both lost some jewelry, because obviously neither of them took it off to start this fight, and obviously both of them have been trying to hit each other with rings and strangle each other with necklaces. The older sister's winning so far, and they've kind of reached the level of damage to Yoska where normal people might stop. But they're not normal people, they're... them... and also they're on RAGE ROIDS. Yoska was clearly gloating about the conquest of this no doubt alluring Nacardo, but then Maireni is making fun of his DANCING, and he just loses his shit all over again. "THAT'S NOT --" punch! It lands, finally! "WHAT HE SAID--" Kick! "IN THE CLUB--" Scratch! "REFRESHER--" His sister lands another blow after that and fortunately that leaves it more of a mystery what went down in the 'fresher.

"He is the Champion of Nar Shaddaa. A simple indication of defending the title could be enough to ensure he - and others seeking to take up the mantle - come to the fight. And provide ample test subjects." Jaro Mabrin comments gruffly at the Zeltron's words, bringing his cigarra back to his lips and taking another puff from it. The smoke is exhaled in a loose puff, the 'o' shaped smoke ring quickly wisping into tendrils that linger about. He grunts in his throat at the mention of 'volunteering' as a test subject, and he rolls his shoulders back. "If the boss gives the order." He grunts out, non-committal to testing the serum.

Usha ponders over Jaro's agility question. "I don't know actually...it seems to be improving over all performance. Yoska and Maireni are significantly less embarrassing at this than anticipated. Imagine this stuff injected into //real// fighters." She smiles at his willingness to do what the boss says and slips a cigarette between her lips. With a gesture asks him if she can borrow a light. Feeling the warm love from Myra she holds a hand to her chest. "Dear, that is SO sweet. Thank you. Now, I've only paid them for this fight. What happens to them after it is really none of my business." Yep. You're on your own after this Lashes!

"Now for some important things to note. First, Majun had made it clear that our current priority is anonymity as we build ourselves up. So should it appear in conversation, this fighting competition is NOT officially associated with the Cartel. Please redirect that rumor to another organization or to some made up benefactor. Whatever it is, just muddy the waters."

Her prop stolen from her, Myra nearly tumbles onto the floor, only just managing to regain her balance through an act of divine intervention. She sits back instead of falling forward, and ends up landing on her rump atop the stool, wide eyes blinking owlishly. "Terribly rude," she murmurs to herself, brushing platinum locks back behind her ears. "I must say, I would very much like to be responsible for disposal of the evidence."

Maireni might be small, but apparently she's real scrappy, at least when she's scrapping with her younger brother, and also on some serious drugs. The dance moves she does are not flattering, neither for her, nor for Yoska who she's making fun of, but she stops abruptly when the punch lands, sending her reeling back hard enough that she hits the floor with a thud. That's gonna leave a mark. Not that she feels it now, down for only a few seconds before she's back on her feet and throwing herself in Yoska's direction, both hands out and clenched into fists so she can flail wildly at him. "I TOLD HIM" flail "THAT YOU STILL WET THE BED SOMETIMES!" It's impossible to tell if this is true or not, but she's clearly trying to goad him into more bad choices. Even worse choices than their current bad choice.

Crisis averted! Q patted himself down. Was he alive? Yes. Intact? Yes. Unviolated? Results inconclusive. That was nightmarish! And utterly harrowing! Never again! From now on he would wear protection (a personal shield, you gutter-minded people!) at all times! Just to avoid that disaster again! He harrumphed once, in triumph, and turned to watch the fight. "Oh, good, they're killing each other," he mused, and not sarcastically. "Not a loss by any means."

Jaro Mabrin cants his head and reaches a hand into his overcoat, retrieving a silver lighter. He flips it open, blue flame alighting from it, and raises it toward the Zeltron to light the cigarette. Once done, he snaps the lighter closed and remarks gruffly as he lays the lighter on its side on the bar top, "I imagine it could turn a gang into an army." The bar keep places another glass of whiskey down before the Mirialan, and Jaro bobs his head in gratitude before he snatches it up. "Elements from Nar Kanji." He remarks, off hand, at the mention of an organization to re-direct attention to. "Would work well. Beneficial, even." Particularly after the visit of certain men in black to Majun's Palace.

Maireni hits the floor and her brother POUNCES, and it happens fast, but the fight tips in the favor of the younger, until now more bleedy Lash. She's captured and PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH, this is without mercy, it's a great sign for the Cartel's new pharma enterprises! Even if hopefully their future fighters aren't punctuating the blows with "I DID NOT," punch "PISS" punch "THE BED", which is of course the most terrifying thing you can yell at your opponent. Eventually there's a pause, and Mari's out like a poor little light, and Yoska is all covered with his blood and hers, and they look like dang child soldiers. Feel bad! Yoyo's breathing heavily, sitting there with hands balled up, and then... his gaze.. shifts.... TO QUENTIN.

From her spot on the stool, it's hard to see what's going on exactly, but a winner appears to have emerged and Myra follows Yoska's vicious gaze across the room towards Quentin. "Well well. As it were I've decided it'd be terribly interesting to see how this plays out," she murmurs quietly, her face splitting into a wide, beaming smile of sheer delight as her erstwhile prop seems to be the next in the crosshairs of Ryn lunacy.

Usha leans into the blue flame and gives Jaro a grateful 'Thank you!' "Dr. Q, I will likely need your help administering the drugs to contestants and collecting data for feedback to the manufacturer. And Myra - yes. There will definitely be things to get rid of. Let's talk about it over boots." It's quite possible she's met her soul mate in the woman.

"The last thing I will note is that when we are ready to sell, I will need a ship and crew to help deliver the goods and finish the deal. It will likely be a rather dangerous affair, and I'll be the first to admit, I'm not well-versed with a blaster." Usha is embarrassingly bad with one. Proven fact. Waving the smoke out of her face, she notices that the fight has dwindled down and seeing the state of Maireni she calls out to the others. "Will someone pick her up?"

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. That was how it was today for the good (lol) doctor. Unfortunately for the Ryn, Q was a prick. He could be called racist, but the word doesn't necessarily apply when it's disdain towards absolutely everybody everywhere at every time. Q's pecking order went as follows: Other people, the dirt, the worms in the dirt, the contents of his refresher, his test subjects, and finally, himself at the top. From a shoulder-rig inside his very expensive cashmere jacket came a small DY-255 blaster, and it was pointed straight at the seething Ryn. Someone might wanna step in before Quentin does something that Yoska is going to regret.

Yoska Lash is on drugs man, CRAZY DRUGS! He's forgotten about Mari now that she's sleeping beauty on the floor, and he's been chewed up by her rings and boots, but it doesn't stop him staggering towards the doctor with the gun. It's almost like fearless unstoppable drugs make your choices bad. "RRRHHGRHGHGH," he says coherently. It's like zombie Yoska, and he drags out, "You... look.... like a SQUAAARRRREEE!" It's an attackable offense.

"Of course, darling, I'd love to," Myra coos back at Usha, the Ryn zombie and the good doctor's confrontation distracting her from more talk of boots. "Just a moment, dear," she mutters apologetically, spinning casually in her stool to face the two of them. Quick as a wink, a pair of Czerka 411s materialize from somewhere on her person, one pointed at Yoska, the other aimed directly at Quentin's bespectacled head. "Pardon me sir, but I'll trouble you to put your weapon away. I do believe I reserved exclusive rights to dealing with the evidence," she remarks sweetly, her beaming smile suddenly sharklike, and without any further hesitation, she shoots the Lash brother in the chest.

"And you look like a Togrutan heart that has been dipped in molecular acid." Only Quentin Haslett could accurately make that comparison. He still had his blaster pointed straight at the zombie Ryn, though he tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, and observed the peculiar change taking place. "Curious," he mused. "Heavy damage induces a zombie-like state. Refinement necessary? No. Could be benefic..." BLAM. No, that wasn't Q firing, that was the small woman who had tried to use Q as an armrest. Perhaps he had to reconsider. "Hm," he hummed quietly, and put his blaster away in his jacket again.

Bang! The Czerka goes off, and Yoska's in no state to dodge; he just gets hit with a dully surprised 'unf!' and then collapses on the floor, a little ways away from Maireni. Both Ryn kids don't get up again, and both of them are bleeding all over the floor, looking so much younger than they do when they're awake. They just about killed each other, and Myra about finished it for Yoyo.

Which means these drugs are AWESOME!