Log:The Bull in the Pottery Shop

The Bull in the Pottery Shop

OOC Date: May 31, 2016
Location: Muse Art Gallery, Nar Shaada
Participants: Shaak Gi, Rheisa Dirleel

Art Room - Corellian District, Nar Shaddaa

This room showcases the major works of a traveling show, but is also used to display work by local artists. Right now, it's filled by a diverse blend of the owners' private painting collection, some works of scrap metal sculpture - priced moderately low to quadruple digits - and a small case of primitive pottery, featuring muted tones of grey, white, terracotta, and geometric design. One wooden sculpture is tucked in with the pottery - a squatly carved humanoid with horns and two pairs of headtails. If the v-shaped form of teats hanging to the knees is any indication, it depicts a female. A very small protective case also displays some handcrafted jewelry.

The back third of the room is cordoned off by a massive window with door, allowing visitors to watch attending artists labor away at their craft. A couple countertops and metal cabinets hold supplies while two metal tables, supporting various tools of the trade are bolted to the center of the floor. There is a small kiln in one rear corner and a sink in the other.

There is a door in the front leading back to the foyer.

Shaak Gi walks into the Art Room from the foyer. As with most that come to the gallery, he moves slowly and quietly as if attempting to not disturb the peace while exploring the gallary, and taking in the artwork. When he arrives in this room, he seems drawn first to the wooden sculpture of the woman with the horns and two head tails. His own prominent montrals identifying his species and why he would be naturally drawn to this piece of art first.

A chrome protocol droid click-clacks briskly over the floor tiles, making its rounds from lobby to west room and back again. Kee'tch'ka swivels his golden gaze this way and that in search of patrons in need of assistance, while his mistress is busied elsewhere...

But not so far away. On the other side of that viewing window, a familiar silhouette is bent over a rather monotonous task at a work table. "Ya-ha, weh weh nah..." she softly mumble/sings-songs to herself in rhythm with the pounding that she delivers to a bowl full of powdery pigments. The mixing process has stirred up a cloud of earthy colors, some settling upon and staining her skin, others just blending right in. There's no question why the gallery's chief employee isn't obeying the high-end dress code today. "...A'nacht hiintu. Ya-ha," and so on. Until, that is, something stirs in the corner of her consciousness and turns her eyes off work and slyly towards the shadow of movement that passed through.

Shaak Gi walks slowly around the sculpture that had caught his eye, taking it in with a curiosity that is not disturbed by the quiet sing-song words that he can barely hear through the viewing window. There must be something that he catches either through the 'feel' of more movements or the song that causes him to glance towards the viewing window. He then does a double take and stares for a moment.

When she does look towards that shadow of movement that had passed a short time before, she will see a male of her species that does not seem to be completely aware that his feet are taking him closer to the window. So there he is, completely not in the dress code... Who wears armor to an art gallery? He is so out of place in this moment, and he does not even seem aware of it. He is just standing there directly in front of the viewing window, completely staring at her... like an idiot. First impressions, they are what he is best at.

Rheisa's eyes snap immediately back to her task at hand when unexpected eye contact occurs and her fingers fidget around the stoneware pestle. The dark bands along her headtails blanch, just slightly, width of the stripes shrinking fractions of a millimeter as a nervous ripple communicates on a cellular level. It's not that guests make her nervous...it's that she wasn't expecting to look upon one of her own kind and is struck with a suddenly self-conscious thought. Or two.

Lowering her chin with a determined breath, she resumes the pounding and mixing, then flits a more direct look and nod his way, lips settled into a peaceful line, proverbial hackles lowered. "Welcome to Muse," she offers in Basic after giving his wardrobe a once-over. Seems this one's another child lost from mother Shili.

Shaak Gi does not move an inch during the time when she suddenly looks back down to her work and when she looks back up to greet him. Any onlooker would likely think he was just interested in the work behind the glass, or the girl there. His body betrays more to her than to most. His own color pattern shifting very subtly, reflecting his own nervousness mixed with a heart pounding excitement. There are not many Togruta that have left Shili, or the pack. The way he acts, it is as if he had never seen another of his kind before.

When she greets him, welcoming him to the art gallery, he stares for a few seconds longer before it seems to register that he should probably talk now. Maybe he is a simpleton? After a moment, his eyes widen just a little more and the crimson of his montrals pale with embarrassment. When he finally remember to speak, he opens with "You are stunning". Smooth. He's super smooth.

Rheisa seems to relax a touch in the wake of his own nervous blunder. A smile cracks her solemn demeanor. Her shoulders roll back beneath the weight of headtails as she straightens and stretches her spine. Her forearms are also in need of a break, so the work gets paused. "I am sorry to say, I am not for sale," she dusts her hands off, a little off her arm, then brushes the thing that passes for a shirt today. "Unless the owners of this gallery arrre making deals I not know of."

The curator stands and flaps a poof of red out of her skirt. "But speak of, they see someone wear like this," she wags a finger about at his battle-ready garb. "They may be not so happy. You know what happen here? Mens wear like this," okay, so her Basic's not perfected, "make a big mess...with their own blood. In there," a point to the lobby. "If you are hunter of peoples, this is not good place for you."

A warning, no doubt, but it's not spoken maliciously.

Shaak Gi is still staring at her as she speaks, however he seems to simply not be following. His first impression is terrible, and it is only going downhill as he does not seem to comprehend what she is telling him. It is not until she talks about how he is dressed, and seems to assume that he is a bounty hunter that he seems to finally shift back into a functioning gear. He straightens to his full height, almost as if firmly collecting himself. He then does what he should have done from the start, in that he takes a moment before opening his mouth again. Instead he shows her a small tight lipped smile that hides his teeth, and hints that he has spent a lot of time around humans.

A single gloved hand moves to his chest and lightly brushes the armor he wears there. He tells her, "I am Mandalorian, however I am not here hunting anyone..." There is another somewhat awkward pause before he does on to explain, "To be Mandalorian is to own very few possessions. I... I heard that there was another of my kind here." Which may really explain why he decided to come here, no matter how he was dressed. He came here just to see her.... Like a bull in a china shop.

"Mm." Rheisa grunts, a noncommittal response as she carries the pigment mixing bowl over to another bench where there are stacked jars of the same. One hand fishes an empty one blindly from the lot while her other turns the bowl at an angle and thumps it lightly to shake all powder into a smaller bottom. "Who you know, that tell you such things? Vin-Vul?" Another far-from-home male of their species, who she'd met some months ago in about as graceful a fashion as this one's entrance. Except she'd been the awkward stalker, following him into a cafe. Heat cycles can make a woman do crazy things.

"He was like you," she comments on the man in past-tense, since he hadn't been seen here nor there since the first wave of violence to rock the Gallery. "Lost in the world of the outside stars...much to learn about 'home'." The pigment gets shaken into the awaiting jar, then capped off with a dexterous twirl of fingers.

Shaak Gi looks from left to right, as if trying to figure out a way to move into the room she is in. Mando stalker? Just what she needs in her life. He doesn't see anything that would get him there quickly, so he continues to speak to her through the glass. He knows she can sense a great deal from just his movements and the way his headtails move, so he does not disturb the peace of the art gallery nearly as much as... well one would expect a love struck mandalorian - of all things.

He tells her, "A Zeltron woman named Siya and a Wookie named Lowkeyyy told me that there was a female of my kind that ran this art gallery... They did not tell me that I must dress in ceremonial armor." He then declares to her, "I am not like the other one. I will not be lost to the stars. I am Mandalorian. I am a Reviver." which actually greatly increases his odds of being lost, but he seems to have a different take on that.

"You are Togruta." Rheisa doesn't sound entirely convinced of her own statement though, a puzzled look washing through her expression as she ponders this self-description as a 'Reviver'. She leaves the pigments where they are and dumps the bowl into the sink. A quick rinse washes the rest of the coloring off her arms before she turns to face the window and approach within a safe meter of it. Her head tips with a cautious stare to the side, nostrils twitch. "Siya. I know this woman."

Shaak Gi says, "I am Togruta." confirming what she says, however the meanings of their words are not entirely the same. It is pretty clear that this strange armored togruta male is coming from a very different place than those males his age that run with the packs and hunt together on Shili. He seems at least in part oblivious to this though.

When she comes closer to the window he says, "My name is Shaak Gi..." He quiets then, perhaps only now realizing that he has made quite a show of this meeting, and needs to reel it in a little.

Rheisa's fingers are ever-alive, picking now at some beads on her belt while her eyes flit between his face and his...boots. She's thinking. Bared toes curl possessively over the dusty cool of her workspace. Finally, her palm reaches out and touches lightly against the glass. A tiny sensor activates at the door swings open with a noisy suck of air.

"Shaak Gi," she echoes, no longer muffled by the window. "Rrrheisa," she trills with a light touch to her brow, "Dirleel. "Kee'tch'ka." The same hand lifts out to point past him to the tottering droid as it re enters the room on approach. And there she remains, arm lowering to her side with a stare past him to the droid's busy work.

In a small shift of movement, she covers the band on her left wrist with her right. Not all weaknesses can be hidden that easily, of course. And so she gauges the distance between he and the doorway, calculating the mechanics of a 'silent' exit.

Shaak Gi watches with that same unrestrained fascination that he has shown towards her since he first laid his eyes on her. When she places her hand on the window, she can see how he nearly moves to put his own hand on the glass as well, as if they were talking in a prison visit room. Thankfully there is the click and whirl of the door unlocking and then the sound of rushing air as the door opens and there is no longer a barrier between he and her. The pounding of his heart, the heightened nerves which make him seem very much like the predator on the hunt. There is a scent to him too. The musk of the male Togruta clings to him mixed with the scent of his armor and steel which blend well with the scent of a Togruta man, however there is something unnatural about how he encases himself in armor. He is not wearing his helmet, but he is wearing boots. Boots!

When she is close enough that this intense man could, could do what? Claim her lips? Take her into his arms? There is an unpredictability about him that make both of those seem somehow likely. He does take a half step closer to her, however he otherwise restrains himself. He says, “I have never seen, never met, Rheisa. It is good to meet you.” Tripping over his words as his heart thunders in his chest.

Men are weird. This unifying truth is something females of any species are likely to agree on.

That being said, one cannot fully ignore what pheromones dictate. The striping one Rheisa's headtails intensifies, albeit briefly. Her pupils remain more or less sane in appearance, however, and she takes a full step nearer...and another, then a sideways twist slink on by. Headtails tense just a bit nearer to her frame, guarded.

Her steps, while measured and calm, are handicapped with a little hitch from the right leg. An uneven, arrhythmic grace. "Yes," she confirms their meeting as a good thing while finding something - anything - to straighten or realign beneath the showcasing beams of light. "Siya has asked me make something for her. If you see her before me, tell her I have not forgotten. Was busy, but now have more wood, better wood."

Shaak Gi is so tense as she takes that step closer that he might just go into a seizure when she takes that the second. The timing of her turn may save her from embarrassment, as he starts to move just as she does. She can feel the tension in the air around him as much as the unmistakable sound of his heart pounding so loud that it might seem like a miracle that he can hear anything over it. His movement towards her shifts and he falls in step with her almost immediately. He proves then that either his heart is pounding too fast for him to hear, or that he is like the males of every other species in that he does not listen. He says nothing in response to her request to convey a message to Siya. Instead he asks, "Do you have a mate?" which is exactly the direction she had been trying to steer this conversation away from.

Rheisa's shoulders sag forward a little as the breath she'd been holding deflates. A wicked fingernail traces the lines stippled into the 'creation' pot (opposing vases fitting together), giving her eyes something to focus on. Eye(s) plural, because a certain man had replaced her sightless one with something new. Foreign, but functional and an impressive match to her organic one. He's a skilled man, that Raim Shah.

Shaak Gi's question is a very forward one - but in this place where cultures collide, it may warrant varying answers, definitions pending. As the keeper of that answer, it's up to Rheisa to decipher which one is best fitting. The cryptic nature of her response may of course say more than her lips let out. "Rheisa is unfit to be mated," she replies softly, gaze turned slyly aside to look at nothing while she listens to him behind. "It is known. A child of Shili must be whole, to make good children of her own. I am forbidden. In this way, no, I do not." Answer 1: she does not have a mate, in the orthodox sense of the word.

Shaak Gi stands nearby when she stops at the creation pot and turns her attention to that. Her answer seems to cause him some confusion and hesitation. While he is out of her field of vision, she can easily sense this strange man who is both her species and somehow foreign. Her answer causes him to tilt his head to the side and his broad shoulders to push back a little almost as if he is somehow standing defiant, unwilling to accept her answer. She can feel how his arm raises, moving towards her. His movement if slow, knowing well that she will sense his hand moving to her scarred shoulder long before he is able to place his hand on her. His voice strong and certain as he says, "That is not the Mandalorian way." He seems to know the both touch, or his take on the tradition of a people he has never known, may be unwelcome; however that does nothing to slow his hand or his words.

The headtails are on the move, subtly. The nearly unperceivable rippling of the bands darkens suddenly from darker indigo to nearly black while the appendages themselves stiffen and flex what weak muscles they posses to arc juuust away from her skin. It's a swift posturing that, in a pinch, might startle or confuse a predator. In this context, far from the scrub lands and forest valley of home, it serves well enough as a native 'piss off' or 'halt' or 'MINE'...a deterrent, whatever the situation's appropriate meaning.

No shouts, no offended gasps or slaps - she hasn't been infused /that/ much with the outside world. Yet. Instead, she sidesteps a calm three inches and turns her head squarely to look him in the eye. "I am not Mandalorian." She thinks. She's pretty sure. Granted, Rheisa can't exactly say she /knows/ what one is, just that she's never been named such or identified with. "And there is one who takes me as his woman. What I have come to know about mens here, can be..." her hairless brow twitches, mind racing for the right word. It's one that doesn't exist in their native language, because the concept alone is so alien...so forbidden. "Jealous hurt."

Shaak Gi is very much the bull in the china shop here, however he is not completely as clueless as he may appear. The subtle movements of her headtails slow his hand at their first movement, then shortly stop it before he comes in contact with her skin. When she turns towards him, he is already withdrawing the hand. When she rejects his words about the Mandalorian way, then tells him that there is another, he frowns a little in a human gesture that tells her less than the way his color shifts subtly and how his own headtails move very subtly towards the sides. It is not his way to face rejection by shying away. It seems his body reacts as if he has decided that he shall defeat her current mate, so that he can claim her himself. Thankfully, a few seconds pass and he seems to use his brain. He says, "You are the first Togruta woman I have seen that is not my mother." which she may have already figured out by his intensity. Possibly the most surprising thing he does is that he apologizes, "I am sorry... I realize my manner is... Not what is normal for a place like this."

Rheisa's eyes narrow in scrutiny of his blended expressions. Arms fold patiently over her middle - an adopted gesture, to show he's not necessarily alone in adapting to life away from the Togruta way. "You mother, she is away from Shili a long time? Or maybe she not see it at all. You born out here? It is a very different life...too far to feel Shili's soul." A pointed glance downward. "Of course, you not feel soul of any place, feet hiding like that." Her tone, which has become very forward and almost accusatory softens anew to a gentler, sad smile. "But you not miss much, here. On this moon, there is very little left to feel. It is cold, like death." Some memory lights in her eyes and she flags the droid down with a sudden crook of her finger.

Shaak Gi takes a small step back to give her a little more room, or perhaps to give him to space to get away from this gorgeous female who is the first of her kind that he has ever really seen. He tells her, "My parents never spoke of their lives before going to Mandalor... However they both taught me some of the ways of the Togruta." He looks down at his own booted feet for a moment before looking back into her eyes, "On planet, we all lived mostly barefoot." His words do not tell the whole story. There is something he is either holding back or hiding. That he does not explain what changed, or why he chooses to wear boots here. He does not seem to be entirely comfortable lingering on that topic, so he soon moves on to tell her, "I have never been to Shili, but I hope to go there someday."

When she motions to the droid, he shifts once more to give her a little room. He then asks, "This man. Your man... He treats you well?" It seems this suitor is not going to be brushed off too lightly.

"Balahesk," Rheisa commands softly to her droid as it dutifully approaches and offers Shaak a bow and "Hello, sir," greeting before turning attention to her. "Take message to the theater for me. Tell persons in charge I want speak with them about another event. To make one there." The droid bobs stiffly forward into its version of a nod before shuffling about face and away.

"Scuse," she offers in way of apology to her guest. "I listen. Maybe someday I go home, too. Will be nice to see old faces again." And new...no doubt she's a slew of nieces and nephews, this season. Letting a long moment of silence lapse as she considers motives behind his line of questioning, Rheisa finally answers "Yes."

Shaak Gi looks to the droid with a hint of annoyance. This Mandalorian Togruta does seem to jealously guard having her attention. When she looks at him again, he seems to have closed down just a little. The change is subtle, however there does seem to be something going on. He does tell her, "If he ever stops..." His grey eyes looking into hers and he seems to decide that nothing more needs to be said about that. Despite the offer, he still has not changed his posture and he does seem to be more withdrawn than he had been. Perhaps that is why he abruptly says, "I will let you get back to work... It was... It was good to meet you Rheisa."

Marbled purple and green stare back at him serenely, fully recovered from whatever upset was rattling around her own brain. "A yi," she bows her montrals forward a respectful 20 degrees or so, returning the farewell to the tune of quietly clattering beads, "Shaak Gi." Gesturing an opening palm vaguely about, she adds "I hope you like. We change displays not long ago. Paintings of the war...up front. Sirus bring them in." A small grimace privately shares her personal opinion of the graphic depictions of the rebellion's clash with the Empire. "Go in safety," she offers, then adds "Tell Siya for me, if you see her again soon. Her sculpture will be finished soon enough. I start today."

Shaak Gi tells her, "I will.... And I will wear ceremonial armor when I return." That's 'classy' in Mando'a. He turns then and walks away a little more quickly than is completely dignified. She has completely thrown him off track, and he seems to need time to recover. He is probably going to go to a white board and work on a Master Plan to win her over... In the same manner that Wiley Coyote would work out his plans for that Road Runner.