Karracca groaned and growled in one final defiant complaint about how embarassing this would be for him. His family back on Kashyyyk would probably be watching.
“Oh well, thats your fault for volunteering to do this. Just remember, its for charity, do it for the kids Karra….and hey, if you don’t wanna be embarrassed, then just dont lose buddy, you got this.” Kalen gave Karra a pat on the shoulder as his theme music began blaring.
Karra grunted in acceptance, shook his head, picked up his oversized Porg down filled pillow and waddled through the curtain and out into the cheers of the fans.
Carmens head throbbed painfully with the sound of cheering and stadium music. It was decently far off, but a particularly nasty hangover amplified the sensation tenfold.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
His eyes created open to a much too brightly lit foyer, mostly filled with the couch he was laying on and two tables, one covered in snack foods and the other in… pillows?
“Wha- who are you?”
There was a Twilek in a neat suit with glasses and a clipboard nearby. She looked none too pleased with Carmens condition.
“C'mon you don’t have time for the confused act. Galactic Pillow League, five minutes, be ready.”
Carmens mind focused on channeling the Force to clear the pain, but he rose and moved towards the big double doors leading to the cheering and almost threw up in surprise and pain, despite the Force.
“Pillow League? Pillow fighting? Why is there more people out there for this than the actual bloodsports?”
“You got me,” the agent said with a sigh, “but I get six figures, so it’s very serious. Four minutes.”
Carmen looked at her incredulously, but shook his head to clear it. The first other opponent was entering the ring and being announced, a huge wookie. Even a Pillow swung by that guy might kill him. He needed a plan, and as he looked to the table of pillows, one began to form…
“Oi wauh fresh bloody ‘ell is this, then?”
This being what happened when one went to assassinate some little lordling, as one did, and then impersonated him by rearranging all their fraking bloody body parts as one also did, for the purposes of a stealthy exit, as was proper.
The wobbly bit was more around how the lordling happened to have great gallons of wine in his room and one’s everything hurt down in the bones in the marrow in the teeth in every bloody joint all the bloody time moving hurt breathing hurt existing hurt bloody hell existing hurt.
And when being the alcohol in one’s flask just wasn’t enough and there was all that wine right there, well, it welcomed, didn’t it?
Less welcome was of the waking up underneath some shoddy table to this kark.
White floors and lockers. Tiny refreshments. Cheering. A roar of noise. All of it knifed into their earholes and retinas and felt like their stomach was being actively stomped on by a Gamorrean in durasteel combat boots.
They groaned as some nannering assistant nannered at some other bloody plonker that was asking questions about pillows and bloodsports.
They crawled out from below, prodding at their own face and head and looking at their hands to see what skin they were even wearing. Seemed Near-Human at least. Had all the teeth. Unbroken nose.
They were not drunk enough to be this hungover. An inhale of the Force helped steady their double-vision – unless that was having four eyes, did they have four eyes right now? – and focused on the other individual. Pretty lad or lass. Very soft skin and hands. Doubt they’d known a hard day in their life. Had a fresh tattoo on the left hand though, puffy and covered in flimsiphane, half a silly and inaccurate heart with stars around it and bright neon colors that said BEST in Aurebesh…
…and another one with FRIENDS was on their own hand.
“Oh, frak,” the Changeling exclaimed. She had to stop making buddies when she was blackout drinking.
Carmen scratched his chin, considering his options. The Force was great, but a problem like this was always the best at clearing ones head, and his scrunched face broke into a smile when he looked up and saw the hanging false roof tiles.
Standing on the table, he pushed one out of the way and started tossing up pillows from the table.
“And what, exactly, do you think your doing?”
“Don’t worry about me, love. Just trying to make the event a little more interesting.”
With that, he heaved himself into the hole as well, mumbling a prayer that the ceiling was strong enough to hold him. The only response he got was a lung full of dust, but he didn’t fall through, so that was well enough.
Time to get to work.
“Oi!” snapped the shifter, catching a glimpse finally in a floor length mirror nearby with a weight scale in front of it – gauche, much? It seemed today they were a very pretty Chiss along with that Hapan fellow.
Who was most definitely stealing her tactics by going into the vents!
“Bloody best friend my ass,” they swore, and looked to the attendant, about ready to summon one of her daggers and end this farce. A brawl was one thing, but live holovision? “I want out of here. Where’s the exit?”
The Twi'lek only glared at them. “Don’t make my job harder already, will you? Look, I can’t make you stay, obviously, but you all signed up for this and the prize money is already set…”
“The what now? How much we talking?”
She could make use of a pile of credits.
“…for the orphans,” stressed the attendant. “The money raised is for orphans saved from slavery. That’s why a name like Karaaccaa is here.”
Oh, great.
It had to be slave orphans.
And they’d signed something?
Swearing, she grabbed a bloody pillow and stomped out into the arena proper.
Vigo rolled his shoulders. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other with a slight hop. He was pumped and ready to go.
He checked the white bindings around his left wrist and hand. Tightening and securing it. His right arm was replaced with a silver prosthetic ending just above the elbow.
This was the first time he was back in a ring since the fight at the Outland Transit Station. That fight was broadcast over live air and his entire family saw it. They all laughed, and he was reverted back to his role of fetch boy.
Hey boy, go fetch this.
Go grab that. Move faster.
All he had worked up to and built was demolished.
He had gotten too cocky, too arrogant. He was thrown off and out his element. He was used to killing, not to fighting. And quite frankly, wasn’t used to fighting someone Carmen’s size. Using his height to his advantage.
No longer, now was the chance to redeem himself. He spent weeks sparring with his brother and those of the family that were willing to look him in his eyes.
The icy rage grew, as did his restlessness. He was ready. He needed to let loose. Brawl, spar, something. His opponent and himself leaving bruised and bloodied.
A tiny Everni woman approached, holding out a pillow as if it were a platter. Her was head down. She reminded him of Maeva slightly, perhaps it was just the Everni, or the uncomfort around others. Preferring to be alone. Small strands of her hair were ever so slightly turning red. Similar to when Maeva and him had just met.
“Your weapon, Mr. Zakirov.”
“My.. what?”
“Your pillow… for the pillow fight.” She looked up at him, her coal eyes hid nothing but concern for him. Or maybe his mental stability.
“Right. Uh- thank you.” His cool, prosthetic reached out and gently grabbed it from her.
“You have five minutes,” She said as she slunk away. Definitely not Maeva, though the familiarity was nice.
Pillow fight? He had thought this was a charity for orphans, broadcast on live TV. Viewers and sponsors galactic wide, wanting to see a brawl.
Well… this was definitely a change of plans. He really needed to pay attention to the fine print a bit better.
He adjusted his mask and robes once more making sure all were tightly secured. Gripped the fluffy, white, pillow and exited through the curtain into the arena.
He faced down the same clever Hapan which caused him so much grief at home. His eyes narrowed. “You again,” he muttered to himself.
Karracca rested, lazily leaning in the corner of the large 4 sided, 4 roped ring. There was far more people in the stands then he had ever expected would show up.
The GPL was actually a reboot of a New Republic holoshow that had gone off the air nearly a quarter century prior. Karra had been a contestant a few times on the previous version, hence why the producers had reached out to him to be one of the ‘celebrities’ on this new reboot.
But Karra was a C list celebrity at best though. Sure he was somewhat well known in diplomatic circles, and most wookies would consider him as being in their ‘top10’ in terms of notoriety due to several mentions in the news and the aforementioned appearances on the original version…but he was certainly no Thom Kruise or Rian Goz-Ling, and certainly not worthy of the crowd that Karra guessed was in excess of 8000.
Deciding the crowd wasn’t sufficiently hyped Karracca righted himself and slowly shuffled to the middle of the ring, raised his arms in a flexing movement and let out and amplified roar. It wasn’t his loudest roar ever, but it worked well enough to have the crowd rise to their feet just as the next contestant was making their way out.
Knowing the drill, and to not steal any thunder from his friendly opponents, Karra politely waddled back to the far corner of the ring and resumed lazily leaning against it.
“Im getting to old for this Sith” he thought to himself as the force ghost of his old Padawan appeared levitating above the crowd about 10 feet away.
“Remember to do it for the children Karra” it said.
Karra then roared at the force ghost in Shryiwook “Oh, fluff off kid. You haven’t appeared to me in over 30 years, and now you show up to mock me in my old age, in a stadium full of people?”
“Hmmm we force ghosts were busy saving the galaxy. Sorry if that clashed with your busy schedule of napping…I guess I won’t help you after all Master.” The force ghost of his long dead former padawan said before disappearing.
Her headache got not better when stepping out to the roar of thousand-throated voices and the roar of a fat Wookiee to boot. Overly prettified face crinkling, the Changeling took a bracing breath just before striding into the light and put on a fantastical smile, throwing her arms up in the air.
It was for the orphans.
“WHAT A GREAT CROWD THIS EVENING, EHHH?” she hollered, waving and throwing winks and kisses. A bow here and there with pillow used like a sash for effect. They seemed to eat it up.
“THE GREAT MOUNTAIN–” A gesture to the Wookiee, whomever the bloody frak he was. “I, YOUR SOLIDER, YOUR POET, AND YOUR KING!” Another wave of cheers as she crowed. “AND OUR MASKED SWORDSMAN AND MYSTERIOUS HAPAN…”
Again, whomever the frak they were. Best friends? Bloody hell, what was their name even, what happened last night…Carol? Surely not Caren.
Someone was announcing him. As Carmen shoved open the double doors with a scowling organizer behind him, he wished he had more time for his work, though it looked like he was still more prepared than the rest. The massive Wookie from before, a damn fine looking Chiss and V- Vigo?
Carmen almost stumbled, almost frozen, but he was good enough at playing a character to keep his stomping strut towards the ring. His body was covered in pillows tied on with scraps of the cases, a pillow helmet under one arm and a pillow club strapped to his back. His left hand was a pillow hammer, formed from a thin pipe he cut from the Green Room that he was reasonably certain would be safe.
He stepped up the ring and climbed the ropes, planting on foot on top and holding his hammerhand in salute and challenge as he donned his hastily crafted helmet.
“Not just a Hapan! The Feather Golem has arrived!”
“You look ridiculous” Karracca growled cheerfully from the corner as he stopped leaning and began whirling around his 4 foot long porg feather filled pillow. He quickly had whipped all the feathers into one end of the pillow, making a handle out of the open end of the case.
Karracca then looked at the fluttering Toydarian Referee(complete with zebra striped little t-shirt with holes in the back for his wings).
“What happens if I break this pillow over one of their heads?” Karra churled at the unsightly flying alien.
“Whatta you talkin about huh, dont worrrrrrry enh, we got plenty a pillows big guy. Sabba ju pista” the Toydarian explained. He then pointed to a crate filled with random pillows next to the announcers booth beside the ring.
One thing that Vigo had learned over the past few weeks was to let his opponent attack first, then evaluate. He had only sparred with a singular opponent before this, and now there were three others. Another thing he would need to remedy back home… after he won. So he could actually get looked in the eye. So people would actually listen to him again. He needed to prove himself.
Alright, let’s go.
He approached his marked starting spot in the corner of the ring. Gripping his pillow. A cool, bored, facial expression was plastered under his mask.
With all four combatants now in the ring and taking up various positions, the Toydarian signalled and a bell rang thrice, loud, excited yelling into the mic accompanying a flutter of his trumpeting trunk and wings.
“LET’S RUUUUUUMBLE!”
The ‘Chiss’ took off running right for Vigo, as if to strike at the one less padded than Carmen or Karracca. Before they reached him though, they swerved, darting over towards the massive Wookiee and saying to him as they passed a glancing smack of fluff at best, “You should body-slam the man in the half-mask.”
The massive Wookie grunted in acknowledgement and then lumbered towards the assigned target, winding up and overhand swing of his pillow at the masked opponent. The blow was partially blocked and Karracca then opened his arms wide and lunged at him trying to catch him in a soft gelatinous Wookie-hug.
Vigo’s knees were bent in a readied position. His eyes scanned his opponents like a hawk. The sound of the official start and he walked ever so slowly around, watching.
He noticed the Chiss run at him, he prepared. His muscles tightened, gripping onto the pillow handle he had made.
Then the Chiss swiveled… weird, but okay. His eyes were constantly darting between the Wookie, the Chiss and the Hapan, keeping notes.
He was unable to grasp what was said to Karracca but in the sudden movement change to him told him all he needed to know.
The Umbaran noticed the wind up from the Wookie, and was able to dodge that rather easily. However, he dodged closer to the Wookie, of which he greatly underestimated. Karracca grasped him into a very squish, yet warm hug.
Grunts and gasps were audible as he struggled trying to break free. An icy stare, so cold it seemed it could almost bore holes was given to Karracca.
Karra roared performatively reaching out telepathically to the Umbaran in his grasp “Remember to go easy on me kiddo, I’m almost 300 years old”
Karra then shook the man left and right before hurling him into one of the corner turn buckles of the squared ring.
As Carmen braced for the start of the action, he watched the Chiss clash with the Wookie. He didn’t hear what she said but… he felt them. The words like a spike that split the mind, not aimed at him, but still familiar enough to identify. And she was way stronger than him. Vigo could turn invisible, he knew, was the Wookie a Force user as well? Maybe pretending to be a Jedi wasn’t always a good thing. Was that why he was always in over his head?
No matter, the two of them were the only unengaged, so they would be the next to fight. Hopefully, that was the only Trick she had, and he knew how to counter it. Break eye contact, and shatter concentration.
Carmen charged, pillow club swinging wide and hammer arm protecting him on the backswing. Screaming gibberish, he adapted Soresu on the fly, hoping that even with the comparatively heavy weapon it’s low energy, yet oppressive movement would keep his foe from having the time to blank his mind.
It seemed she has a weird tattoo on the back of her right hand. “Friends.”
Weird.
Vigo lashed out with a flailing pillow strike on Karracca, and the big Wookie just ate the blow convincingly knowingly it wouldn’t hurt he staggered back in exxagerated motioned for the crowd before whirling his pillow right at Vigo’s head. Karra didnt mean for it to be a big devastating blow, and Vigo was seemingly ‘taking the bump’ as he had. But since the Wookie had pre-loaded the mass of feathers in the leading edge of the pillow, when it collided with the side of Vigos head, it exploded.
A dense cloud of tiny porg feathers filled the corner of the ring where the two combatants were engaged. Hundreds or thousands of the feather were hurled into the first few rows of the crowd. It was a mist of light white and brown floaties for several seconds.
The crowd, including several of the orphan former slave children who were seated ringside absolutely erupted in ecstacy, loudly cheering and clapping in exhileration.
The scream of gibberish was unexpected, as was the circular footwork with which the massive pipe-taped pillow troll moved. Despite trying to dance away with her two pillows in hand, the Chiss felt a surprisingly solid but fluffy impact as a pillow made contact and shoved her backwards in the ring.
Right into a cloud of tiny feathers falling everywhere.
They choked on an inhale, snarling suddenly with true viciousness. Well, it was a show to put on, wasn’t it?
“TRAITOR!” they screamed at Carmen, pointing with their pillow. “YOU WERE MY FRIEND! MY BEST FRIEND!*” In evidence to this, they held up their newly tattooed hand. The holocams zoomed in on it immediately, dramatically. The crowd gasped, caught up in the drama even as the children giggled at the Wookiee and masked man and gave little boos, sensing blood in the water. Children were merciless. And perfect. And for them, a show was a show. They climbed up on the ropes, balancing easily and swallowing bile that threatened to come up with the night’s revenge. They pointed again.
“DID OUR FRIENDSHIP REALLY MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?”
Carmen frowned, face concealed by pillow mask. The tattoo was supposed to be related to him? Oh, wait, right. Cameras.
“Everything must burn when the stakes are this high!” He pointed with his “blade” dramatically, “No matter who must fall, failure is not an option!”
He raised his hammer hand to the side, “Now prepare for my ultimate technique!”
He began to spin, faster and faster, until he let go of the pipe inside the pillow hammer, the cable underneath maglocked to the metal. Spinning wildly, he whipped the weapon out towards his apparent friend, only to realise, ture to her word, he did have the other half of the tattoo on his hand.
“Wha-?”
In that moment of distraction, the round ending hammer-whip strike went wide, pulling him off balance.
Karracca had roared again and grabbed frantically defending Vigo by the belt and collar and lifted the man over his head, growling slightly under the strain.
Karra then leaned forward and simply dropped Vigo on his face in the middle of the ring and swung around to face the crowd and raised his arms in mock triumph.
“Eh buddy, you need to get a new pillow when you break one unh. Donta you make-a me disqualify you eh!” The Toydarian referee said as he fluttered over to the wookie.
It was a good thing the strike went wide too, pulling the pillow-suited betrayer along with it, because it gave the Chiss plenty of opportunity for more showmanship. She dramatically pinwheeled back, as if dodging in slow motion, underneath the whipping cable, then surged forward, leaping up onto Carmen’s cushion-pauldron shoulders and balancing there for a moment as though the Hapan was a ladder.
She heard Carmen’s muffled wheeze as her weight pushed him further down towards the map, and lifted her arms to the cheering crowd, much like Karracca. Then, deciding someone might as well be the villain of their little narrative for the children, shouted as loudly as she could.
“IF EVERYTHING MUST BURN, THEN BLAST THE RULES!” she pointed at the referee with one pillow. “I WON’T LISTEN TO YOU!”
And then she spring-boarded off of Carmen and tackled the Toydarian in mid-air, dragging them both down onto Karracca while Vigo recovered his footing.
Crawling back to his feet, Carmen shook his head and raised his right arm again, this time bending his wrist to reveal his other vambrace, more specifically its misile ports. A flight of a dozen micro-rockets spewed forth, each one detonating an inch from flesh with a slight concussive blast of compressed feathers. He was surprised how well it worked, honestly.
“For the orphaaaaaans!”
With a battle cry, he hefted his weapons and went to join the pile of wrestling figures and bursting pillows.
Vigo scrambled to his feet after being dropped by the massive Wookie. He wiped his mask from dirt and debris, grumbling to himself about needing to clean it later. In the time he was being jostled around like a ragdoll he unfortunately had dropped his appointed weapon, his pillow.
Icy fury bloomed behind his eyes. He didn’t like not being in control, and here he clearly wasn’t. This was to be a redemption for his previous mistakes, and it seemed to have gone drastically down hill the moment the fight started.
He quickly grabbed his pillow, bending his knees and pushed, rocketing him in a mid air spin. His pillow aimed right at Karracca’s head.
The blow landed a bit short and ended up hitting the shoulders of the massive Wookie. More physical force next time– noted.
He turned quickly, boot skidding off the ground, ready to put more might into the next leap, when wall of feathers slowly floated down infront of him. He didn’t think he had hit Karracca that hard… surely not. A quick inspection of his pillow told him that his suspicions were true. He turned and looked at the others. Spotting Carmen and his beloved gadgets. Vigo’s eyes squinting, just visible above his mask.
His eyes darted to Connie, who was actively attacking the referee. This was a fundraiser for orphans and I am sure nobody is going to pay for his medical bills, and that will come out of the prize money.
For the children. For the orphans. The pain he knew all too well.
He gripped his pillow tighter, locking his metallic fingers around it, and ran as quietly as he could, pillow raised high towards the Chiss.
What then ensued was a flurry of actions, announcements amd confused crowd reactions.
For intentionally striking the referee Connie was disqualified. The ring announcer made the proclamation over the stadiums loud speaker as the action in the ring continued.
Karracca then, seeing his path of least resistance towards his next nap, seized a hold of Carmen by the scruff of her collar in a moment where they were distracted. He then hurled them over the top rope and onto the mats on the apron that surrounded the raised ring.
This then caused a new Toydarian ref to be thematically sent to help the first ref by the shows producers. The new zebra striped Toydarian then ejected Karracca for engaging without a pillow in his possession. Roaring in mock rage Karracca then fly swatted the new ref with his massive paw. The blow looked worse then it was akd the referee new his assignment and sold it for the crowd, pretending to be knocked out of the air momentarily before getting back in the wookies face, emphatically and repeatedly point to the entrance ramp, signaling Karracca had been kicked out of the contest.
The massive wookie then slowly stepped over the top rope and hopped down onto the apron and began walking back up the entrance ramp. He waved a few time back at the ring dismissively as if saying “forget this nonsense”.
As he was about halfway up the ramp he noticed a young wookie boy cheering and reaching out to him with paw from the stands. Karra paused and then noticed a drone holocam hover over amd aim itself right at the 2 wookies. Karra then broke character and turned ‘face’ infront of the whole crowd and the millions watching on the net. He went over and instead of giving a simple high 5 he hugged the wookie youngling and gave high 5s to several other nearby fans that all reached and leaned out to touch him. Karra then took a small step back and removed his bandolier sash. He had owned the nerf hide, pocketed beltsash for nearly 30 years at this point.
It was time for a new one. And after all, it was for the kids, to Sithspawn with the shows producers and writers who had scripted him as a ‘heel’.
Karracca placed the bandolier over the shoulder of the Wookie kid, ruffled the fur on his little head with his massive paw, high 5ed a few more fans and finished his exit of the arena.
As Carmen hit the floor, Karracca battled the second referee, and she clung to the first, the changeling’s senses murmured in a melody of malintent. Her currently red eyes snapped aside, spying the masked man swinging right at her though his approach was near-silent with all the other deafening raucous noise. He swung like he meant to kill, with a pillow of all things.
Well, credit where due, like recognized like. She’d murdered a target with their bedsheets before too.
Now, though, the albinic, faux-Chiss released her referee and jerked back just in time for the high swing to crash down, leaving the man overextended. She darted back in, unarmed without pillows and already disqualified besides, and struck out at his face.
“Bloody cool off, mate!” she hissed quick, close, and winked as she yanked off his mask viciously, “and smile for the kids like the big hero.”
Then she stumbled away, another dramatic fall, as if he’d struck her. She hit the mat hard and stayed there as the referees got back in order and counted her down for an apparent knockout, or whatever it was.
Carmens “helmet” had come off, completely accidentally, and not because it was remarkably hard to breath in it. He would have to rework the designs later. Making a show out of groaning and clenching in pain, Carmen straightened up, using the ring for assistance as his apparent best friend slithered out from under the ropes beside him.
“So, uh… heya bestie! I take it our third wheel is a few bottles of…” he smacked his lips, tasting the last remenants of the night before, “what is that, whiskey?”
The only contender remaining in the ring, Vigo, stood maskless. A snarl etched into his features, a glint of fang peaked out below his upper lip. His hair was a mess, and sweat started to bead at his temples.
His mask laid mere feet away staring at him. It looked fine, but still, Dominik had made that specially for him, and now he would need to go and get it checked again.
While he and the world stood still, his vision started to spin, perhaps it was his thoughts. The other contenders seemed to have given up so easily. Is this him accidentally judging their character? Was this all a ploy? A fake? Was he given the win? Surely they were all capable to keep going. He was jostled around like a loose sack of potatoes by the Wookie. If the last battle taught him anything, Carmen was smart and capable. The Chiss attacked a referee? Why?
He continued to stare at the mask, as it stared back at him. By technicality he had won, but why does he feel like he had lost?
The crowd erupted into applause. He scooped up his mask, pocketing it, feeling more hollow and more rage fueled than he had been when he arrived.
As the mask came off and she got a look at the cyber-armed crankypuss’ face, the Chiss nearly gaped, pointing and saying, “Wait, I know you–” before it got lost to the thundering cheering of the crowd for their winner. She huffed and finished her belly-crawl and wriggle down to the ground, righting herself to meet the pillow paladin.
“To be honest, bestie, I had a cellar of wine and could’ve been a whole liquor store for me not to remember it all,” they replied cheerily, grinning fangs at him. “But hey, you must be a fun mate. It’s Caren, right? What did I tell you my name was?”
Carmens face broke into a grin as the tens of thousands of people who came here for a pillow fight cheered Vigo on. Maybe that would cheer him up a little… nope, he looked more frustrated. Welp, that just meant Carmen had to stick to public areas, then.
“Carmen. And no idea, I can’t remember anything. Good to know your the type to give me a fake name, though. Saves me the trouble of being suspicious and I can go straight to distrust.”
He still looked cheery, but it was also obvious that he was only half joking.
Meanwhile, backstage
By the time Karracca had made it back to the dressing room he found Kalen and a few of the shows writers and booking agents chatting.
“Your pal is a genius! The head writers mad that he went off script with that last part with the wookie kid…but the heat! That was dramatic GOLD! The crowd went absolutely mental. They loved it. Your buddy could be a star.” Karracca overheard the booking agents say to Kalen. And it was true the crowd had gone absolutely wild as the scenes of Karracca drapping the oversized bandolier over the wookie kids shoulder had played on the big screen in the stadium.
“DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Kalen, lets get outta here.” He roared in Shryiwook.
“I mean, maybe just wait a second and hear these guys out Karra…” the were talking about contracts to make 4-6 more appearances on the pillow fighting circuit, and they were tossing around numbers well into the hundreds of thousands of credits if Karracca wanted to take a shot at galactic stardom.
“NO! LETS GO!” The wookie said as he stamped off down the corridor towards the exit.
“Uh, jeez, I’m sorry gentlemen but I think my buddy is going to have to politely decline your generous offer at this time. Ill be in touch if I can get him to change his mind.” Kalen then chased Karracca down in the hallway.
“KARRA! Brother, its alot of fluffin credits there offering here big guy.” Kalen called out pleadingly before accepting that his old wookie pal just wasnt into it.
“Serves me jolly,” replied the faux Chiss. “Don’t take it personally, bestie. No one has my name, not even me. Suppose I’ll just have to name this face anew. Maybe Cyanus? Centaurea? Sure seems to have drawn a few bumbles, though the color isn’t a match.”
She held up her tattooed hand, examining it showily, and curled her nose at the ink. Under her concentrated red stare, the design bubbled, erupting slowly from her pores and spilling down her skin to drip onto the floor. When she wiped in on a stained sleeve, it smeared away.
“That’s better. Want yours done, mittens? Can probably do.”
Carmen shrugged and held out his hand.
“Sad you don’t want to keep something to remember your best friend by. Buuut, not much worth without the other half, and tattoo removal is expensive. Gotta keep enough cash around to pay for all the scar removal treatments, after all.”
He gave a sniff, “And mittens? Oh, because of the pillow thing. I thought I did pretty well, given I had five minutes and some pillows to work with.”
The changeling took the proferred hand, soft with a few tinkerer’s callouses, and her pale, nearly white-blue face scrunched much more in concentration this time. More slowly did the ink get pushed out of Carmen’s skin, with, to the Hapan, an utterly horrific flush of itching and localized pain. Her grip was tight, though, and held on.
“You were quite ingenuitive. I can imagine how drunk me took a shine to you. Who knows? Perhaps we conquered all sorts of marvels.” She winked, released them. “But for now, well…for the orphans.”
They glanced significantly at Vigo, who looked miserable and murderous as he was paraded about with some pillow-shaped champion belt by the Toydarians and flocked to by orphan slave children looking for signatures, especially with Karra having disappeared backstage.
“That’s bloody hilarious. Sneak out the back?”
“Oh, definitely.”
The two scarpered off, trailing porg down stuffing in their wake.