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The Lady or the Jackal

Summary: Two deposed Demarian nobles discuss the past, and the future.

Cast: Swiftfoot, Razorback

Air Date: 2005.11.21

Setting: {{{location}}}

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Contents: Exits:
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Razorback
You see a tall black spectre that resembles, on closer inspection, an immense (over seven feet at least), bipedal panther. With the exception of a dark red line that runs from snout to tailtip, this Demarian is jet black; his coat is cut short, giving him a sleek profile. Grey eyes contrast his fur color with a grim intensity. The feline bears himself well, with a proud, but not haughty, air about him. His massive frame and powerful limbs are encased in a loose-fitting, navy blue jumpsuit.


Swiftfoot

Swiftfoot is a fairly typical Demarian in both appearance and stature. That is to say, she's a bipedal felinoid, closely resembling the common domestic cat, and is approximately seven feet in height. Her exact build is difficult to ascertain, as she's covered by about eight inches of fluffy cream and white fur. Her dark pink nose is framed on either side with long, white whiskers. Eyes as bright as molten gold are set admist a series of barely-visible pale orange stripes, laid out in a classic tabby pattern -- markings on the forehead, and at the outside corners of the eyes. The rest of the visible orange fur is similarly striped, with her paws, throat and chest being pure white. A thick ruff surrounds her head and shoulders, lending itself to her fluffy appearance. The very tip of her orange-striped tail is just as snow white as her paws and chest.

Swiftfoot is dressed in a stylish, yet utilitarian fashion. A pair of purple pants, with more than a few pockets in evidence upon them, end at her ankles, leaving her white-furred, digitigrade feet plainly visible. Around her waist is a fringed sash, woven of gleaming silver threads. A lavender shirt is worn tucked in, but the long sleeves are rolled up to her elbows. The shirt's neckline plunges into what would be incredibly dangerous territory for anyone not covered in fur. A short velvet cloak, purple to match the pants, is thrown carelessly about her shoulders, and is clasped at her throat with a silver brooch. The cloak hangs to the big cat's waist, and a pattern of silver ivy leaves can be seen embroidered along its hem. The only jewelry the Demarian wears consists of a golden bracelet around her left wrist, and a pair of tiny golden earrings dangling from her pointed, feline ears.


Crew Quarters <IND Jackal>
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The narrow passage opens up into a small wardroom. This space is ingeniously outfitted; its furniture and surfaces configured to serve either under nominal local gravity conditions, or that provided by the freighter's acceleration. Flanking the wardroom are a set of personal bunk modules containing a bed with built-in cabinetry, storage lockers, and privacy screens. Forward, a compact efficiency kitchen is located starboard, while to the portside is a small refresher unit. Between the two we find a little fitness space with a punching bag and workout center and a cozy niche with a fold-out sleeper couch and holoviewer.

Gentle light flows down from coves recessed into the dorsal and side wall framing, softly illuminating the room. Its deckplates are sturdy and diamond-gridded and provide a tough, rugged utilitarian feel, but what really completes the atmosphere is the bold, stylized jackal's head painted in fiery scarlet with bold, confident strokes on the hatches leading fore and aft.

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Swiftfoot is lounging on the fold-out couch, a bottle of Ungstiri vodka near at hand. She appears to be watching an infomercial on the holo-viewer. A talkative man peddles lots of swords and knives at low low discount prices. Mostly, though, it seems to be on just to have some noise in here.

Razorback is ... well ... sleeping. At least he has been. In several stages, consciousness begins to force itself upon him as he unwillingly returns to a waking state. He swivels into a sitting position and surveys the room, trying to stifle a yawn.

Swiftfoot sits bolt upright on the couch, fumbling to replace the cap on the bottle of vodka. "Hey.. sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." She deliberately avoids eye contact, watching the seedy man hawk his wares on the holoviewer.

Razorback looks over at Swiftfoot, confused for a moment, then chuckling quietly. His gaze sweeps over to the nearby note and he gives it a quick scan before turning back to the other Demarian. He seems hesitant about what to say so he asks the first stupid question that comes into his head, "Ssooo. We arrre on Demarrria?"

Swiftfoot nods. "I... I don't know why I was drrawn herre. I needed some time away from Ungstirr, I know that much. But hey, therre's no place like home, meh?" The quip falls flat, and she sighs. "It's a good thing we came herre, though. Captain Tachyon... she crashed at the landing pad."

Razorback winces slightly at this, "I am verrry sorrrrrry to hearrr that. I hope that you arrre able to ssee herrr ssoon." He pauses for a moment, "Arrre you alrrright?"

Swiftfoot shrugs and looks away. That starboard bulkhead is suddenly -really- interesting. "Fine, except forr my prride," she states flatly.

Razorback watches her in silence for a moment before asking a mildly odd question, "What is it you fearrr?"

Swiftfoot smirks wryly. "I made a complete ass of myself, showing up drrunk like that. I'm not norrmally like that. I just saw some things recently that I needed to forrget. Then, I hearrd that you'd gotten left behind on Tomin Korra, and I couldn't abide that thought... I wouldn't leave anyone therre if I could help it." She sighs and lays her head in her paws. "I should have slept it off firrst."

Razorback nods slightly, considering things, "I agrrree. It was a rrrissk you sshould not have taken. Howeverrr, ssince I benefitted frrrom it, I sshall not be the one to complain." He looks to her again, "But you did not ansswer my quesstion."

Swiftfoot sighs. "No, I didn't. I was hoping you wouldn't notice." She shakes her head, and resumes studying the starboard bulkhead. What -is- it about that bulkhead? "I thought the note summed it up prretty well, actually. I fearr that you have no feelings forr me. Hell, I fearr that you think I'm -not good enough- forr you."

Razorback just watches her looking elsewhere for a while before replying, "If that werrre trrrue, I assssure you, I would not be herrre. To toy with ssomeone like that would be basse and crrruel." He pauses again before standing, "Will you not look at me?"

Swiftfoot tears her gaze away from the bulkhead, meeting Razorback's eyes only with great effort. She crosses her arms across her lean chest and slouches down in the couch. "I guess I can. It's easierr to look at the bulkhead, as I didn't try to seduce it."

Razorback smiles somewhat now, "It was the liquorrr that did that, completely unnecessssarrrily, I assssurrrrrre you."

Swiftfoot smirks, and slouches further down in the couch. She sighs, and shakes her head. "You confuse me."

Razorback chuckles, leaning back on a support beam, "How can I make things morrre ssimple?"

Swiftfoot snorts. "I don't think therre is any making it simple. I don't honestly know what I'm so brroken up about. This isn't exactly the strraightest outfit in the galaxy, but I'm good enough forr them, meh?" She flops down on her side, laying along the length of the couch. Her tail hangs off one end, the end of it flicking rhythmically.

Razorback frowns tightly, looking over at the other Demarian, "That is the ssecond time you have ssaid ssomething like that. Why would you not be good enough forrr anything or anybody?"

Swiftfoot lays back on the couch, putting her paws behind her head. "You, my frriend, arre noble. And I, as farr as you know, am not." She shrugs vaguely. "At least, I'm not anymore." She mrrrrrs in frustration, shaking her head.

Razorback growls quietly before hissing out, lapsing into Demarese, "Will you stop hiding from who you are?" His eyes flash with anger, laced with a good amount of sadness.

Swiftfoot sits up in a trice, eyes narrowed. "You want to know who I am? I am the last daughterr of a dead house." She shrugs dismissively. "It harrdly matterrs. Noble society washed theirr paws of me when I turrned up, clawing my way back herre after Sanctuarry. Even those who had been my frriends turrned me away in my time of need." She sighs, and lays back. "I took the firrst carrgo shuttle out to the first place I could think of. And I'm still rrunning."

Razorback's brow creases tightly, his gaze still burning, "And who is it that you think I am?"

Swiftfoot sighs. "You don't underrstand. Males carry on the family line, meh? House Brrightclaw dies with me." She raises her left paw, eyeing the bracelet on her wrist. She shakes the wrist experimentally, but the bangle fits too tightly to be moved. "It was my motherr's. She was wearring it when..." she shakes her head and trails off. "I've worrn it everr since. Well, with a few notable exceptions... but it's always with me."

Razorback's gaze softens, "I ssee." He pauses for a moment, "I am ssurrre that you arrre tirrred frrrom the jourrrney herrre. But beforrre we leave thiss worrrld, therrre is ssomething I would sshow you."

Swiftfoot nods, looking over at Razorback. "Can you underrstand now why I've taken on a new name, and why I hide who I am? I'm attempting to go forrwarrd and starrt a new life." She sighs and looks away. "It just doesn't seem to be worrking out all that well, does it? My past keeps crropping up and nipping at my tail." She snarls in frustration, digging her claws into the poor couch.

Razorback frowns slightly, looking down, "I am ssurrre, that I have not been helping things." He looks up again, "But as to underrrsstanding? No. I ssee no rrreason to hide. You arrre not defeated yet. Though all the univerrrsse be againsst you, you neverrr will be, as long as you rrremain trrrue to yourrrsself."

Swiftfoot shrugs, looking over at the dark-furred Demarian. "You morre than anyone else have made me want to be that noble lady again. But, I fearr I just don't fit in any morre. As you can see," she gestures vaguely at her surroundings, "I've picked up some new frriends, and some new habits. I'd set noble society on it's collective earr." She stifles a yawn, stretching a bit. "I am a bit tirred, now that you mention it."

Razorback nods slowly. "I will leave you to rrrest then," he replies quietly, moving past her towards the rear of the ship. He pauses nearby before stooping down to be at eye-level with her, his gaze penetrating, despite the barest traces of moisture in his eyes. "Just tell me that you have not given up yet ..." he says, almost pleading, in Demarese.

Swiftfoot blinks, nonplussed. "Given up on you, orr on me?" she says softly, shifting her gaze down and away.

Razorback considers this further before replying, "On me, yes, on you, certainly, on us..." He trails off, leaning to one side to regain eye contact.

Swiftfoot flicks her gaze back up, whiskers bristling as she smiles. "You won't get rrid of me so easily, Rrazorrback Cliffwalkerr. Not so easily, indeed."

Razorback reaches up behind her head, his paw curling around her ear as he smiles now. He pauses for a moment, an expression of hesitation flashing across his face as he pulls his paw back, standing up. "Goodnight, then. I hope you arrre able to ssee yourrr Captain soon."

Swiftfoot leans into the paw, mrrrrrling frustratedly when it is removed. She flops back on the couch, and eyes the dark-furred Demarian sidewise. "Tease," she snorts. After a moment, she nods. "Hopefully she's able to have visitorrs soon. She didn't look so good. Neitherr did that Ungstirri that was with herr. Kept carrying on about the Knight of Wands orr some such nonsense." She shrugs dismissively, and puts her paws behind her head. "I'll see you in the morrning."

Razorback is at the door when he returns his gaze to Swiftfoot. "Ssleep well ... my lady..." there is the barest touch of a smile on his face as he slips quickly through the portal.