[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Far be it from Rhailo to consider herself untrustworthy, but the words still brought something akin to shock over pristine features. Even in that present blanket of fatigue, the Auroun exuded an aura which managed to dust away inherent drowsiness in attempt to instill a sense of calm. There was no danger present between their pair, nor had either of them unleashed waves of discontent in hopes of rocking the ship. No, this was tranquil, and Rhailo clung to the wreckage of her previous life like a wayward survivor lost at sea. Did she trust Demagol? What a question to ask-- The answer could be one of many depending on the context... Now she did, in that moment while he pulled away to make towards a kitchen his vocals activated. If it wasn't trust she felt, it was just as delicate and malleable, so whether it would be kept between them depended solely on the Mandalorian's actions in the near future.
After all, actions spoke louder than words. What he said could easily be forgotten in a fit of rage.
A bed felt entirely different when there wasn't another body to share it with. One would do well not attempting to articulate such a feeling, but Rhailo felt it all the same, explanation readily available or not. Obscured oculars blinkered at the paneled segments of the wall, and just as a few meandering shadow shapes drifted over chrome detailing, Demagol was speaking of her options in regards to a shower. Then, abruptly, there said shower was in a bout of technological glory. With a translucent veneer, he would easily be capable of seeing through the clear divider to where the Auroun was if he found himself curious. How crafty of her companion. Opal gaze flickered quickly to the man's back, making out as much of that toned torso as she could from the angle she laid at, until the urge for a shower was too great to ignore. Rhailo buckled so not to seem resistant, though had she been honest, she didn't appreciate being his trophy anymore than she had appreciated being a petty criminal.
One does what they can to survive.
At least at this point, there was a modicum of comfort the two could backtrack to, and fantasized over, and envision to be greater than it may have been previously. His hands had yet to find themselves wrapped around her wind pipe any more, and she wasn't darting through parallel dimensions as a means of losing his attention. If Rhailo could stomach the subtle changes that came attached to living with someone, there was still hope for their blossoming relationship; even if it meant showering in the open with an audience. Rising to her feet, the Auroun glanced around to see if he was truly gone-- To the kitchen or elsewhere, it didn't matter. When it seemed Demagol was assuredly preoccupied in the other room, the woman cleared her throat and began undressing with an inaudible hum teasing her lips.
So far, so good.
But as the clothing was discarded and her shapely figure crossed the threshold between their bedroom and the shower stall, a phantom pain ebbed at the back of her head. Rhailo's eyes widened abruptly while the wall closed her within the stall, mouth slightly agape in question. No... No, this was the worst possible time for something like this to occur. The absolute worst-
<<Rhailosioabhan.>>
"Fuck!" Rhailo cursed softly as water began pelting her face, causing her lids to squint against the pressure. How thoroughly it soaked that buxom shell, she glistened with contained light like an aquatic luminescence one may come across at the bottom of the sea. Another person could find her glow eerie, but it was no more obtrusive to her than freckles might have been. Anomaly's rarely lingered over their uniqueness, and as Rhailo could attest time and time again, she was nothing special among her own kind. Queue in the voice who spoke, who was indeed that special sort, even if they used their obnoxiously long ranged telepathy as a means to bombard a woman while she was naked.
<<Link with me.>> The voice didn't ask; it simply stated that she should do this, and reluctantly Rhailo did so, though it likely looked like she was preoccupied dragging tired digits through milky strands. The struggle to find shampoo was a real one.
<I am busy right now> Rhailo began softly, testing the connection while trying to fight off a relay of static paired with each syllable. Had this particular Auroun not been such an underachiever, her transmission wouldn't sound like the stations one hated ending up on when they tweaked their radio receiver. All scratchy and distorted, she knew a scolding was in order, but it took everything in her power to keep up with her thoughts-- so the quality of her projection was secondary. If the voice on the other end understood, that would be enough for both of them. <Busy in the shower actually. What do you need?>
<<I need to know why you are no longer on Nar Shaddaa>> The voice said in a steady monotone, <<and I thought you would be happier to hear from me.>>
<But I'm not.>
<<Is that so?>>
<Honestly.> Shampoo was finally discovered in her half attentive state, and upon lathering her hair with a thick coating, the woman released a frustrated sigh. Otherwise, all silent on her end. <And I'm in the shower.>
<<Yes. I heard. What shower? Where? Why did you leave the planet?>>
<Well... it's a long story. You know, the sort that involves a great deal of explaining, and I just don't have the time->
The voice, as monotone and steady as it may have been, seemed to raise an octave in response- obviously done to cut her off. This meant her thoughts were quelled in favor of new, stronger inputs from the other entity, and a mind silenced was naturally better at listening. So be it; Rhailo wasn't new to this game.
<<If I have to drag you back there, neither of us will be happy, but my unhappiness will pale in comparison to yours.>>
<Okay! No, I can't. I'm in space. It's still a long story, but there was a bounty on my head, and now there isn't.> Rhailo was blind while her eyes were held firmly shut to keep chemicals from making contact with them, and her patience for rinsing was likely the only thing saving her from stumbling out into the bedroom. It didn't seem all that exciting to whoever was watching, though her bumbling was cute in a way; like how new born kittens bumped into things while they scooted around. Only, Rhailo was an adult woman and her hands were locked on the walls the entire time so not to topple over in this unfamiliar environment. <But I'm fine now. I am, really. Please don't send anyone after me->
Again, Rhailo was cut short mid explanation so the disembodied bully could pelt her with a new set of inquiries regarding the finer details of her excursion. <<Did you run away again? Who is with you?>>
<I had to run, or I would have been caught.> The second question didn't receive such a quick response, which likely meant she was leading herself down a road she hadn't meant to head down. Coming off suspicious would mean she had something to hide, but the Mandalorian wasn't a secret-- Not really. There would be note of his purchase, even if it was held with the S'zari, and Gods help her if the speaker on the other end of the telepathic link found anything involving syndicate records pertaining to the purchase of an Auroun. Rhailo had ONE job, and she fucked it up. Lashes were blinked furiously to test whether the water ran clean of cleanser, and when satisfied, mechanical movements began anew to scrub any filth from her pale flesh.
Running from the S'zari had been messy business in more ways than one.
<I'm with someone, yes, but I don't want to talk about it with you.>
<<Are they dangerous? Why can't you tell me?>>
<Yes. They are. That's why.>
<<I'm not afraid of them.>> The voice said quickly with a whine in the pitch. <<Neither should you be.>>
But if Rhailo was being honest with herself, it wasn't Demagol she was most afraid of in their current circumstances. Rather, the Auroun was settled over what may happen to the hunter if his existence was made known to those seeking her. A life on the run was never a truly peaceful existence. <Please leave me alone, Braxiskroi. I'm fine.>
<<Then why do you worry your blood? I care what happens to you, even if you do not.>>
<I don't mean to worry you. I didn't even know you were free of the scholars.>
<<Well, that is a story for another time, isn't it?>> The voice paused for a moment, leaving static-y silence between their two persons before it asked, <<Are you headed for Ixxin'lo?>>
Rhailo pursed her lips and looked out through the glass as though she could determine just where in space their ship was drifting through. An image of Rhailo projected itself from her person, and much like a ghost in terms of incorporeality, it hovered from the woman towards the room where a navigation console was located. The maps and readings were foreign to Rhailo personally, but the voice on the other end of the link could see them as the spectral copy did, and they seemed confused. After, the copy dissipated from all planes, re-infused with it's maker.
<<So you are near enough to the center, but not headed there? Where are you going?>>
<He didn't say. I don't know if he has a destination yet.>
<<Well, when he does, tell me. I will come. I will not cause problems for you, but I will also ensure you are safe. This is my job. Please don't make my job difficult.>>
<Please don't treat me like a child, Brax... I don't need my brother to be my babysitter.>
<<Then act like an adult. You had a bounty on your head, and now you are running to where? Oh yes. That's right. You don't know where you're going. That sounds like you need as much help as you can get, and a babysitter might be in order. You do not have the freedom to argue this fact any more than I do.>>
<Will it just be you?>
<<I work alone. You know this. One of us needs to be competent, and while you're gallivanting with aliens you don't even have the courage to share the names of, I must uphold my duty. Not to you, but to our kind.>>
<Why does this always turn into a lecture?> Rhailo asked after a moment, rinsing the last of her figure free of suds and soap. <Why can't you just take my word for it?>
<<Because you have lied too many times to have a clean slate in my book, Rhailosioabhan. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be allowed out of the Scholar's sights. It isn't though. So I will come, and I will ensure you are not lying to me, and if I am satisfied, you will be free to enjoy vacations the rest of your family are unable to take. This universe has no place for our kind. You know this. You know this just as well as I do.>>
<But I have made space here.> The water stopped unceremoniously as the silent woman stalked from her lengthy shower with accompanying towel drying silver locks between patting down as much of her form as she could manage while moving. There were no clothes for her to wear, but at least Rhailo could wrap herself in half attempts at modesty. Small blessings in face of very real problems. <I will see you when you decide to come. Be well, Brax.>
<<And you, Rhailosioabhan. We will meet again very soon. This is a promise from the one who never breaks their word. Trust me.>>
<I do.>
A shock of sorts coursed through Rhailo when the link was broken, and she hissed her discomfort before taking a seat on the end of the bed. Perhaps the starlit creature was more stoic than usual, it was hard to say, but her attention directed itself back to the Mandalorian in the kitchen. By now, he was likely done with his preparations, meaning he would return for her company. Beneath all the confusion and worry, Rhailo was growing accustomed to the eagerness thoughts of Demagol brought out in her consciousness. Underlying care for someone she had been adamant about escaping just days beforehand. Why did she want to protect him? Or, a better question-- Would he need protecting?
"Do you have any family, Dema?" The Auroun asked quietly, almost too quietly for her companion to be expected to hear, but Rhailo didn't seem to notice. "Or friends? Do you worry about others when you're working? I think this sort of life could be lonely. I mean, a ship to yourself..." A smile stole her features as she allowed herself to flatten backwards with her legs dangling off the mattress. "Why am I here, Dema? Were you lonely? Am I here to alleviate that loneliness for you?"
Rhailo didn't actually know if his answer would comfort her, but in this frame of thought, she expected it to be an honest response all the same.
"Do you know why I am alone, Dema? Why you found me alone?"
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I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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