<img style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;" src="http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="avatar]Part of the woman seemed hesitant as the blade was passed over, as this was the first time she had held anything of the sort, and thinking about the damage it had done to others seemed a gruesome reminder of her partner's past. Rhailo was careful in how she held the weapon, though it remained in her hands with awkward positioning as she was unclear where it was supposed to go. Did Demagol mean for the Auroun to just carry it out in the open? Certainly seemed plausible but... That would draw more attention than they could likely afford focused on their travels. Still, her head dipped with a nod, signifying she would do what he asked her to do, as there was little room to argue while he prepared. "Thank you." And that was all there needed to be said on the matter, even if she was meant to hold the Kal like it was a fashion statement; idly dancing it through skilled fingers as watchful orbs wandered over gear being fitted in segments across the Mandalorian's frame. Her inability to evade Demagol's capture didn't entirely take away from her agility or cunning, as even the most acobatic of tricksters wasn't meant to fight a one on one against armored assailants.
But they greatly differed in their styles of combat. While Rhailo could bend time and space to ensure she was at a distance from those wishing to reach her, Demagol was a beast in metal armaments who closed gaps by tracking his prey. Ah, and how she found that entirely too attractive-- Even if the Auroun always wore such a questioning look when it was presented in that critical light before her. Wasn't this her life now? Hadn't blood, sweat, and tears solidified this coalition between their two existences, ensuring that where one went, the other was to follow? Would there be a pause in her steps to keep close? Did she expect doubts to arise among the fighting, and the running, and the escape they both desperately needed? Rhailo would be a fool if she expected perfection from their connection, but she harbored the semblance of hope beneath those plaguing thoughts. It was safer not being picked at with the rest of her theories and assessments.
Hope was better suited for private, personal settings anyway. Now she just took initiative, and kept herself quiet while listening to his check offs. All those pieces of gear she hadn't been able to investigate thoroughly were now counted almost lyrically while Demagol prepared himself. His ritual was far more entertaining than she felt necessary to express, though the ghost of a smile was slipping over lush lips by the time the bounty hunter finished. How imposing he was, taller now with the armor, and bulkier in some sense. It took the edge off those cravings of hers at the very least, as his lack of visible skin made touching an impossibility. Not that there was time for any sort of sensual break for the pair, but such musings were worth pondering over. She liked knowing he wasn't completely irresistible-- That there wasn't some malfunction to her person leading her into looped temptation in his presence. Between the coverage, and the remnants of fear the suit sparked through her buxom frame, Rhailo could easily keep clear headed in that manner of thought, if only as long as it took them to get away.
When they made a clean getaway, perhaps she would change her tune. Fear certainly tasted saccharine sweet when he kissed her...
Blinking, the Auroun returned to statuesque observation in an outfit reminiscent of paint splattered across canvas. Tight, much like the rest of her figure. She resisted the urge to hum a small note, instead shooting milky oculars to the far wall to create a shadowbox effect, complete with faux treeline and figures crawling through it. An idle gesture, but it amused the woman while she was left to wait in silence. Who was really at harm by it? It's not as though it was intentional, or overly distracting, as her company faced the opposite way from Rhailo to communicate with the messenger. In a way, this was her honest attempt to avoid eavesdropping on what could be considered a private conversation between Demagol and the S'zari whom he worked through. But, the attempt was poorly executed, thus she heard the important details as he finished turning in the bounty. Rhailo was officially Demagol's property.
Yet, in that strange measure of elation, she returned to his previous statements. All unanswered questions would be answered. What did he mean?
The sound of tech being ripped from Demagol's helmet snapped her vision back towards where he stood, and helplessly, the Auroun watched the male break through the door to the balcony again to chuck aforementioned device off towards the cityscape below. Rhailo was obviously disoriented by such actions, but in a sense relieved when he spoke again, even if the words were ushered to imply he wasn't fucking around. "Okay, yeah. Just, I guess, take me?" It wasn't like she couldn't travel alone-- Actually, she could travel completely cloaked the entire way, but he would be forced to trust her to actually remain with him (in that dual dimension overlapping way), and there wasn't time to explain the mechanics. If he wanted to trip on some Ookranian spliffs and learn the wonders of the universe, the Mandalorian would have to catch her somewhere the citizens were less eager to see her captured.
So, because of this, Rhailo closed the gap between them and shuffled onto the balcony, arms raising as implication she expected to be carried. Not because the creature couldn't walk (or float, or levitate, or glide, or slip between dimensions), but because Demagol was perfectly capable of carrying her to his planned rendezvous without overburdening himself. Also, she didn't want to leave him alone. Especially when he had let her hold that dagger, which was probably a very important piece of equipment to him considering it was listed in his arsenal of accountable objects. Maybe Rhailo had the same thing going, though hers seemed childish in comparison. Heels, thong, credit chits(which had been absorbed into mystery funds), borrowed under armor(or something similar), Kal(which she couldn't lose for fear of incurring his wrath).
"Dema, just don't drop me, okay?" Rhailo commented last second, her gaze widening slightly. "That's an awful waste of 50,000 credits."
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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