((With great pleasure, lady-sai.))
Drac paused for a moment, his well-disciplined mind halting as it tried to process what exactly had just happened. The albino Zeltron had been fighting, injured, recovered, and crushed a WhiphidÃ¢Â€Â™s skull with a war club; now his clock was telling him it was time for dinner. The Selonian kicked his mind back into drive, reminded himself that this man was at best less-than-sane, and then slowly began to nod.
Ã¢Â€ÂœVery well, lead the way.Ã¢Â€Â
A very familiar sensation shrieked a warning into DracÃ¢Â€Â™s mind, and the Selonian twirled gracefully to face the Herglic charging him from behind. He had no stomach for this, and heÃ¢Â€Â™d decided that his role in this fight had come to a close for now. DracÃ¢Â€Â™s head dipped an instant before a hopeful punch swept through empty air, then side-stepped the follow-up strike with the same liquid alacrity. He ducked past the large creatureÃ¢Â€Â™s defense with swift ease, and placed his open palm gently upon the HerglicÃ¢Â€Â™s solid chest. It paused, confused.
A moment later it was soaring through the air.
The Selonian stood, his pose unaltered, palm still held outward. The black paw hadnÃ¢Â€Â™t moved. Lowering his eyes and pulling his hood up once again, Drac turned and followed the orange-haired fighter cautiously, already unsure of his mental stability. He could always trust his freakish danger-sense for protection, but to rely on his gift too much would weaken his body and his conventional mind; and more horribly, it would mark him as
Just as they were about to leave the arena Drac heard a roar tear through the fightersÃ¢Â€Â™ cage. To his chagrin, it was undoubtedly directed at him; even more so, it was from the other fighter, the second one that the Selonian had marked as he observed the ring. The other top dog.
Trouble. Drac thought, his paws wrapping themselves around a pair of discblades beneath his cloak. His mind linked with the weapons effortlessly, so familiar was the routine to any Zeison Sha worth his blades. To his relief a Wookie intercepted the mismatched monstrosity, diverting his attention for at least a few seconds. Drac took the opportunity, and bound after the Zeltron before he was challenged again and forced to draw attention to himself. HeÃ¢Â€Â™d not fight for personal pride.
Once outside the arena, the albino pulled out a chair at a random table, stretching his neck from side to side as he took a seat in it. The black-furred Selonian followed, moving his tail to the side of the chair and doing the same. The Zeltron quickly summoned a waitress (there was a serious lack of male wait-staff in the bar), ordered something Drac wouldnÃ¢Â€Â™t bother trying to pronounce, and a glass of straight whiskey to wash it down.
Shaking away images of what the bar would look like if this being were drunk, Drac asked for what looked like some type of cooked meat (as long as it was cooked and clean, he could bear the taste), and another glass of water. The TwiÃ¢Â€Â™lek waitress eyed him strangely, too used to serving large amounts of alcohol, and then set off in a walk that purposely involved too much motion of the hips, as he would innocently describe it. Drac looked away in quiet disdain, bringing his attention to the exceedingly odd individual seated across from him.
Ã¢Â€ÂœZenth.Ã¢Â€Â He said simply, extending a blood-stained hand with an equally bloody smile. He ran his tongue over the orange-tinged teeth, and his eyes rose thoughtfully with the strange taste.
Ã¢Â€ÂœDrac.Ã¢Â€Â The Selonian returned just as briefly, gripping ZenthÃ¢Â€Â™s hand unflinchingly and retaining his look of stoic thoughtfulness. He still couldnÃ¢Â€Â™t wrap his mind around just how strange this Zenth was. It defied all logic, all common sense, all sentient thought at all. Drac decided he was crazy.
Ã¢Â€ÂœSo now, what brings you to the...Blue Sun is it?Ã¢Â€Â Zenth asked, cracking his ravaged knuckles. Drac checked a shudder threatening to run down his spine.
Ã¢Â€ÂœThirst, hunger, convenience.Ã¢Â€Â He talked in his preferred fashion; short, direct, nondescript. Ã¢Â€ÂœYou?Ã¢Â€Â
Ã¢Â€ÂœI fell off a speeder. Well, got thrown off a speeder. Well, the speeder crashed. Well, the speeder crashed and I got thrown off right around hereabouts.Ã¢Â€Â Zenth replied, gesturing to the ruckus taking place in all sects of the cantina.
Ã¢Â€ÂœI see.Ã¢Â€Â The Selonian lied, in actuality having little idea what the pale man was talking about. With this one however, he decided it would be better to say little and question less.
Ã¢Â€ÂœTaking a chance on that cage prize?Ã¢Â€Â Zenth asked, probably wondering if heÃ¢Â€Â™d have to kill or cripple Drac in addition to everyone else.
Zenth waited for him to elaborate, and when he saw that the beast man had no intention to, asked the question himself:
Ã¢Â€ÂœWhy not? You look handy enough with that little sword there.Ã¢Â€Â
Ã¢Â€ÂœI do alright when I have to.Ã¢Â€Â Drac responded, keeping his eyes down.
It was obvious that Zenth was becoming amused by the SelonianÃ¢Â€Â™s quiet and serious tone, and he quickly copied the voice with eerie accuracy.
Ã¢Â€ÂœI do too.Ã¢Â€Â He murmured, lowering both his head and the pitch of his voice. In an instant the loud, insane demeanor was back again, along with a burst of self-amused laughter, Ã¢Â€ÂœBut I always believe you could do a lot better with a pocket full of prize money. Besides, itÃ¢Â€Â™s fun. Really fun.Ã¢Â€Â
Ã¢Â€ÂœIÃ¢Â€Â™ll take your word for it.Ã¢Â€Â Drac answered, seeing the result of ZenthÃ¢Â€Â™s Ã¢Â€Â˜funÃ¢Â€Â™ seeping from his knuckles and staining his teeth. He wondered just how much pain the Zeltron had to be in Ã¢Â€Â“ he was sure the Whiphid must have broken some ribs Ã¢Â€Â“ and yet he talked and acted so ridiculously normal. Curiosity got the better of him.
Drac reached out with his gift, focusing on the ZeltronÃ¢Â€Â™s body and trying to tap into his feelings without alerting him of the mental intruder. He succeeded, or thought he did, but what he found posed more questions than it answered. The SelonianÃ¢Â€Â™s face suddenly contorted in pain, and his arms gripped his stomach tightly as if he were hurt. It took a good deal of his will to keep from doubling over and falling from his chair.
Ã¢Â€ÂœAlright there?Ã¢Â€Â Zenth asked casually, not sounding as if he were particularly concerned.
Ã¢Â€ÂœFine.Ã¢Â€Â Drac said. HeÃ¢Â€Â™d severed the connection as quickly as he could, and even so the pain lingered in his nerves. Gods how could he be conscious? Let alone sitting, talking, eating, drinking?
What is this man? Drac thought, feeling the pads of his hands starting to sweat. He refused to let his curiosity guide him again though, and left the thought unanswered.
Their food arrived, and the Selonian dug in wordlessly, suddenly aware of the hunger twisting his stomach. The meat wasnÃ¢Â€Â™t as bad as heÃ¢Â€Â™d expected, and he ate quickly, chasing each bite with a swallow of water. It was the best meal heÃ¢Â€Â™d had in a long time. His eyes flickered across the table as Zenth chomped on his own meal, knocking back mouthfuls of whiskey with not so much as a grimace.
"I AM A SEXY SHOELESS GOD OF WAR!" - Belkar