Log:Mandlorian in a palace
Mandalorian in a Palace.
Location: Fortress of binding
Participants: Narsai Ordo, Sylvixi
Gooza's place is always full of bustle, music, and just general ACTIVITY. Among all of that activity is Sylvixi, dressed in as little as is possible (and probably not by choice.) She slinks between bodies caring drinks on a tray and delivering. Whenever someone reaches out to touch her she flinches back away from them, those drinks in peril every time she does so.
Into the palace walks another, a new figure who'd yet to visit the place before wrapped in the Beskar'gem plating of a Mandalorian. From behind the obscuring T-visor, Narsai's eyes sweep the space, taking in details and faces before the heavily armed woman reaches up to remove her helmet and reveal features far fairer and less intimidating than her mask might manage. This place? It reminded her of the hutt that had been here before Majun and his 'Nice guy' hutt routine.
Well, Gooza is not at all a 'good guy' and Sylvixi is one sign of said not so good guy. She manages to deliver her drinks without dropping anything and then is pointed towards Narsai. Slipping close she mutters, "What drink do you want?"
The flinching earlier hadn't gone unnoticed, a slight frown remaining on Narsai's lips even as she's addressed before she blinks out of her thoughts and looks to the Cathar server. "Netra gal if you've got it, tatoonie sunburn if you don't," the Mandalorian girl answers, looking for a place to sit. "The...host isn't present today it seems..." Sylvixi is learning quickly what looks and such mean - and she gestures silently for Narsai to follow her towards some open seats. "Netra Gal," the drink confirmed before Sylvixi slips away to get it and returns. A glance is cast towards the dais that Gooza regularly settles on. A tight shake of her head, "G..Gooza will be back." Sylvixi is absolutely terrified to even say the hutt's name.
The nerves, if not outright fear coming off the girl has Narsai biting her lip to supress a sigh. She looked so much like the last Cathar that Narsai had been friends with, but that woman had turned from a slave to a warrior she'd seen tear through armored squads with her bare claws. Was this what Laika had been like when she was younger? The redhead human woman's eyes shift now, glancing to see if Sylvixi wore a mark of a slave, or simply worked here out of desire or debt.
If Narsai looks closely she'll see the scars of where Sylvixi wore a slave collar once, though she does not have one now. The chain would be impractical in the crowded bar area where Syl must move among the patrons. She doesn't flee though, so something is keeping her here. Under her dark fur there are signs of bruises, another hint of what Narsai is looking for, as well as claws clearly kept from being able to extend. She's a safe little kitty.
A breath, a sigh, Narsai raises a hand to keep the woman's attention a moment longer. "How long have you been here?" she asks, tilting her head to the side as her gaze traces over the scantily clad woman once more. It's not lust, or even truely pity. Just something...else.
It's instinctive, Sylvixi's flinch, when Narsai reaches out towards her. The question gets gets her to stop, eyes hitting the floor rather than focus on the woman. "A week...I think. With Gooza."
It wasn't a reach, merely a wave, but that flinch doesn't exactly go unnoticed. "How?" she asks, rather forwardly perhaps. "How did you come to be here?" The redhead leans fowards, her helmet resting on the tabletop and her elbows atop it. Those deep green eyes peer through, looking into Syl's own blue with an odd weight to the gaze. A stray bang seems to have slipped free from the pinned-back bun of crimson hair at the removal of her helmet, but the Mandalorian woman's attention is entirely focused on the feline.
The questions are unexpected and Sylvixi brings her eyes up to meet Narsai's before she looks quickly towards the dais, like she'll get in trouble just for talking. "I - crimes against the cartel." It almost sounded like Sylvixi was going to say something else, but then quickly corrected herself.
"What crimes?" The question was still forward, but hardly unexpected. The Mandalorian woman's eyes never waver for a moment as she speaks again. "Sit and speak," she instructs, words firm but not demanding. "There are enough staff that others can serve drinks for a moment, and I doubt any would have a mind to demand your attention away from a Mandalorian with as many weapons on them as I carry." That last? It brings a slight curl of amusement to her lips. "Speak truthfully, or is it honest time is something you have to be paid for here?" Sylvixi sits when instructed, but only on the very very edge of her seat ready to leap back to her feet and away if someone DOES take offense to the Mandalorian occupying her time. "I... thew a drink in Gooza's face. And yelled at him. I shouldn't have," that last comes in a rush, just in case Narsai is something more than she seems. "You were a guest here?" she questions lightly, still keeping that locked attention on the other woman. "A visitor who threw the drink at the hutt? Or did you already work for his people?" A slow sip of her drink is taken, but the woman continues to watch the Cathar over the rim of her glass. "And that put you in this position you find yourself in now?" Sylvixi shakes her head for each of the questions biting her lip before suddenly and with fervent anger and bitterness laid below it, "I would //NEVER// work for them. I... was a slave, then freed." The anger fades and only the bitterness remains, those words explaining the older marks upon her neck. "I should have run - when he taunted me. I didn't. His people found me later, when I was working."
"I see." The redhead's face remains blank, no judgement visible but certainly a slight shift to suggest she wasn't truely emotionless. "And now you're here, wearing that and frightened of your own shadow. Are you a slave once more? Is that what prevents you from walking right out that door? A thrown drink is a slight, but clearly one taken personally."
Sylvixi nods to each of the questions, tight and quick, her eyes haven fallen away so that she misses any changes of the woman's expression. "I.. I should, go." The woman's words are dangerous.
"Should you?" Narsai speaks, another sip of her drink taken before she tilts her head to the side. "My name is Narsai Ordo," she offers now, finally giving introduction. "Some things are given to you, some things you have to fight for. Most things? You have to be able to protect them." A fold of her hands atop the helmet comes as she sets her drink aside. "If you want to go back to serving drinks in this place? It becomes a question of your will really. What is against it, and what you use that will for..."
Finally, she leans back lightly in her seat. "If you wish to speak again sometime, I'm not too difficult to find. Perhaps I'll meet your 'host' another day."
Sylvixi doesn't offer her name back as she wasn't directly asked. Just another mark of where her mindstate is. She DOES listen though, and shakes her head quickly. "I just want to live." Live for WHAT is the question, as Sylvixi pushes herself up to her feet and flits away back to the bar.
