Summer Drawl (Open)

Back in the slums, where it all began. The seal to pandora's box snapped the moment the good doctor had been killed, and she went on a wild goose chase, only to get her sai stolen. The other half was missing, and it pissed her off. She was far too stubborn to just get a new one, since they carried a strong sentimental value of once belonging to her father. They were the only blades she'd ever really use, and what she was best at besides being fairly versed with other forms of weaponry, firearms included. She was back in the slums, throwing back a shot that made the animal growl with distate. She didn't care. It was her night off, after a long day of patrolling.

She wasn't in the best of moods. Flecks of gold peeked into her arctic hues, as she watched the rowdy men play their card game. There was something so classic to their shoddy appearance, and caps that cast shadows over their eyes. Cigar smoke puffed a thick cloud above the center of the table. All around, people were loud, and she thought she heard someone break a beer bottle because they were pissed. Someone was always angry, as long as it wasn't directed toward her. Bree was calm, despite her irritation. She was anonymous in the pub, hair long and wild after being grown out. They swept more to one side, and over her face even, as she leaned against the counter, not yet taking a seat despite being here for well over ten minutes.

It was hard to leave work behind when she was always watchful. Those arctic orbs were just observing, even as she tapped her slim fingers along the counter for another shot. She didn't wear her uniform, or looked like she had any authority whatsoever, but her favored gun was strapped inside her leather jacket, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Underneath was a blank tank top, and long dark blue jeans wrapped around her legs before disappearing into knee high, fashionable boots. The next shot came her way, and she carelessly tossed it back without an expression, save the slightest twitch to the corner of her right eye from the strong taste. It took a lot to get the werecheetah drunk. The shifter blood ran fiery in her veins, and she was already feeling the temperature beneath her leather jacket.

The healing scar in her side still burned whenever she twisted the wrong way. No, it wasn’t the brunette that had given her another battle memento, but she was part of the organization that had. Lana stared with a steely, unwavering green gaze across a crowded, smoke hazy room at the woman who was part of the reason the werewolf was sequestered in this shoddy little bar. Ever since the Terran Guard and that other group of fucks had barged into the scientist’s lab, Lana had been under close scrutiny with her superiors. Metaphorically she was in the dog house for losing the android.

Lifting the medium sized crystal tumbler from where it sat, half full with cubes of melting ice and vodka, she sipped languidly at the liquor. Over the stench of stale cigar smoke that lingered in the air, she could distinctly pick out the scent of feline from everything else. Her aroma was different from the werecat that Lana already knew, but no creature would smell exactly as another, even if they were the same species or something close together.

Downing what was left in her glass, the werewolf pushed back her chair to rise. The scrape of wooden legs across a wooden floor drowned out by the loud raucous that the other patrons of the bar were making. Her sensitive ears picked up each of the conversations that were going on and shifted through them one by one out of simple curiosity. She often wondered what the hard laboring class of Librium’s bottom dwellers discussed when they weren’t working or at home beating their families.

Approaching the bar on Bree’s left Lana grabbed a vacant stool as someone stumbled away from the counter in search of the restroom. She motioned to the tender to freshen her drink as she settled in, looking both ways down the counter. What’s wrong, guardswoman…someone stole your catnip? Her Russian accent was laced with an undertoneof both contempt as well as a bit of playful banter. Her newly filled glass before her and she lifted it to her lips for the first drink. Looking across the space of a few feet at her query as she sat silently brooding; lamenting over something that made her brows pull in an angry frown between her eyes.

Regardless of her cheetah senses already tingling, Bree felt a pair of eyes watching her every move. From where, she couldn't exactly tell since she was busy moping - for only a little while. Bree spent too much time at headquarters, more than she did anywhere else. She practically lived at the Terran Guard base, and her closest friend was her partner, Mitch. She had little to no "girl" time, which meant few female friends unless they were other guards and potential foes. A moping Bree was a rare feat for anyone really, but she was here, on her own as she figured out a way to get back her missing sai. Plus, she had nothing to do. Free for the night, she was going to figure out how to entertain herself before returning to base...

She could try to seek out the one who'd bitten her. It didn't matter to Bree about establishing a connection, but to see the one responsible for turning her into a werecreature. What was she going to say? The guardswoman had a sense that she might swing before speaking, just to get that out of the way before carrying on a conversation. It would be like an awkward family reunion, like what she would think meeting an estranged relative would be like, but would the one who bit her be considered a parent-figure?

Shaking that out of her thoughts, she tapped the counter for another shot. She didn't bother asking what she was getting. She knew it was one of the strongest the creaky tavern had to offer. The bitterness kept her grounded to reality, as she mulled over personal issues - like her missin sai's, her lack of a social life, and how she practically devoted all of her time to nothing else, other than training. Mitch might find that unsettling, and robotic. She wasn't really one to open up and talk anyway. When the shotglass was slide her way, a scent overrode the others, causing her nostrils to quiver. Flecks of gold appeared in her arctic hues, as she looked away from the dark liquid in her glass to the redhead that appeared by her side.

Bree could recognize Svetlana from anywhere. Their first meeting had been during that fiasco in the lab. This was either purely a coincidence, or she'd been tailed. Animals had their own distinct scents that set them apart from others animals, but the human coat had their own as well, which could stir up some confusion. Bree, however, recognized the woman and werewolf as one. "If only that was the case." She replied after a long moment of observing the redheaded Russian. "Are you lost?" A slight twitch of a smile touched her lips before she took her shot.

Lost? Net. I come here whenever I’m not working. It just must be my lucky day that you showed up. Not likely to get any exciting conversation from anyone else. So Lana toasted her female companion and drained her glass of the clear, fiery liquid inside. When she was finished the tender immediately swept the tumbler away, dropped in some fresh cubes and topped it off with the same vodka she always drank. Lana wasn’t sure of the name, nor did she care, so long as it wasn’t any of the watered down, overpriced shit that the other patrons got.

I don’t see any of your friends here. Like the old guy from the lab. I need to thank him for the little souvenir he left me. With her free hand she rubbed her left side, which was newly healed after having a bullet extracted from her small intestine. Thank whatever Gods were listening for the healers at Umbra; else she might not be sitting here now. And I’ll thank you for fucking up my mission with the android, she pointed at Bree while holding her drink as it was on a trip back to her mouth for a sip. Getting back to my superiors without that stupid robot, I felt like a child who got caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Flynn had understood her reasoning behind abandoning the android; however his colleagues hadn’t been of the same mind. She grimaced at the thought, and then pushed them to the back of her mind where they could do less damage. By the way, how did that end? Who got the girl? Calling that thing a girl was stretching the word since it could do things that normal girls could not. But kudos to the mad scientist for choosing such an unintimidating packaging for his android and Lana had liked the bright red hair too. She was partial to redheads though; unconsciously she fingered one of her own red curls.

Translation:
Net = No

Bree actually laughed. "If you wanted excitement, then I'm sorry to disappoint." Bree said. The feline pressed to the surface, casting flecks of amber in her turquoise hues as she watched Svetlana. The guardswoman was off duty, and Svetlana appeared to be as well. A toast was returned with a toast of her own. Getting drunk wasn't easy for a werecreature, since their metabolism burned everything within seconds. Bree was constantly hungry, especially for meat. Food sounded great, now that she thought about it, but she could eat later... or hunt. Currently, the redhead had her interest as well the drinks the bartender were willing to supply the both of them. After all, the taverns in the slums didn't often garner the interest of two beautiful women.

She rolled her eyes when Kale was brought up. Friend, more like superior. He was old-school, while she was... just Bree. "I have a life too, and is that right?" She lowered her vibrant gaze to the location of the wound. As she rubbed her side, Bree chuckled, "if it makes you feel any better, your friend bested me again. Not only did he take something of mine, but he had me breathing in those disgusting fumes." She made a face immediately, hating the moment he slit open her suit that the noxious fumes irritated her skin and had her clawing for a way out of that suit. The cheetah didn't like the sudden bout of claustrophobia at all.

She raised a brow, "I should thank you too. You guys left us a mess to clean up when you left. Crazy robot bitch and sick doctor, wetting his pants. Not to mention that he threw up on my suit." Her smile was wry when Svetlana spoke about her superiors. Kale hated failure also, and whenever a mission went wrong, his mood plumetted to the furthest regions of hell. She was glad for not being on the recieving end. And that android? No one knew exactly what the hell happened.

She shrugged then, "I don't know, but good riddance." She could say that now, but in the end, she might have to go on a searching spree again. It depened what the superiors thought, and what they wanted. She shook her head, "so nothing went as planned, you here to actually have a good time, or are you wanting something else?"

Pretty girl like you could never disappoint, she smirked and winked, shaking her glass so the cubes of ice stirred within the clear liquid. Shoved against the bar as a body stumble into the space that separated Lana from Bree, the werewolf growled low and yanked her arm from beneath the person. The man was obviously drunk and she could smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores in heavy volumes. That mixed with his body’s pheromones and he was like a walking 16 year old with a constant hard-on who had gotten into his parent’s liquor cabinet.

She grunted and rolled her green eyes as he flagged down the tender for another beer, leaning back slightly to eye Bree over the man’s back for a split second. Finally when he left she grabbed the edge of her stool and jumped it closer to Bree; closing that space between them so that no one was able to shove their way in. My friend? The men with the nerve gas and flash bombs? Lana laughed out loud now; the sound feminine and melodic in a way that her personality was not. You are mistaken, koshka. Those were not my friends. I do not work with teams if I can help it.

Draining the last of her vodka, Lana smirked while laughing somewhat bitterly at her revelation about the android, Now see, had you and the others not interrupted me, I would have the android and Terra would be a safe place again. To some extent, until Umbra decided what they would have done with the robot. I’m here looking for anything. I am terrible with social interaction so for me a ‘good time’ has many different meanings. What about you, koshka? What brought you here? Nothing too pleasant since you still have that frown pulling down your brow.

Lana reached over and pressed a finger into the space between Bree’s eyes. She rubbed the area tenderly until the muscle relaxed or until the feline batted her hand away. Her outfit was the typical color scheme though she was not dressed for work. Dark colors befitted the redhead and helped her to blend more with the darkness that she so favored. As the tender approached again to refill her glass, Lana placed a hand over the empty tumbler and instead order him to bring her two shot glasses and the bottle of the vodka he had been feeding to her since she’d been there. It wasn’t long before she was filling the two requested shot glasses and passed one to the brunette beside her.

Since we are both off duty, lets enjoy it, da?


Translation:
Koshka = Cat

Bree was glad that she didn't have to worry about some homicidal robot, at least not for now. It wouldn't be long for the Terran Guard to be called in again. She could feel the budding irritation. It wasn't that she didn't like her job, in fact - she loved it. She could've been with a different task force, like for Bastion for instance, but she had a better calling with TG. Plus, they were more acceptable of her condition, which she still kept under wraps for the most part. She was still fairly new to the werecreature thing. It'd been less than a year since she'd been bitten, and she had yet to find her maker. She might have to at one point or another. The curiosity was going to eat her up if she didn't do anything about it, and how many other cheetahs were around anyway?

She had an inkling of were this cheetah might be, and that didn't put her in much of a better mood. With a shake to her head, Bree slid her arctic gaze to the redhead. The compliment made her blink, before her wry smile softened, looking a lot more genuine than before. They were both off duty, which meant no use for any hostilty or rivalry. A body stumbled in between them, causing Bree to frown with irritation. She could smell the alcohol off of him, and whatever sore excuse for soap he used. Her nose wrinkled as the cheetah within reared back, wanting to lash at the stranger's intrusion. He made his order, completely unaware of the two, or feeling rather accomplished that he was between them.

She shook her head with a faintly amused smile, a clear "what the hell" question painted her features when she made eye contact with Svetlana. She could've just shoved him, but what was the use of that? In the end, he was minding his own business. He moved away once he got his beer, and the gap closed between the cheetah and wolf. Her laughter was surprisingly feminine, and didn't sound all that bad considering Svetlana's tough appearance. She could snap necks with just a tap.

"Ah... I guess that explains it." She smirked then, "I would hate to speak badly of your people." Her tone had lightened considerably, and the Russian nickname was starting to rub in. She looked to her shotglass, deciding that she should have a crystal tumbler of her own, but filled with the hardest whiskey, no ice. She didn't like watered down alcohol. They were too unpleasant for her sensitive tastebuds. She grabbed her glass, to swirl the dark amber drink. If this was the best they'd got... then hopefully, she won't drop dead from the first sip. As she listened, she tried her drink, before grimacing at the absolute bitterness. The spice was a kicker though, so that made up for the shoddy taste.

"Don't we all?" she said about making Terra a safe place, "I think we both have similar ideas going on, just executed differently." She lowered her glass, as she leaned comfortably against the counter. She shrugged, "I'm not an expert on talking to people either. I usually send them running in the other direction, if I can help it. But you... you're still here." She grinned, "and about that frown... I'm thinking about ways to take back what is mine, with good vengeance too." She almost growled, but more in a feline way that had the faint hiss to it.

She blinked when Svetlana pointed out her frown. The light press of her finger against the flesh between her eyes made her cross her eyes a moment. "Keep that up, and you might not have a finger anymore, wolf." She said in a light tease - at least her attempt of a jest. She wasn't the most feminine woman either, and they both were donning dark colors of "badassery" stitched to their backs. As she sipped her hard whiskey, she glanced down to the shotglasses sliding down their way after Svetlana's order. A bottle was present as well, and somewhere in the recess of her mind, her mother warned her about mixing light and dark drinks.

But that was when she was human. Bree chuckled as she set down her glass to take up the newer, smaller one. The sharp odor of vodka caused her nostrils to flare when she took a breath, and she glanced over to the werewolf with a toast. "Why don't we? To... new friends?" The cheetah asked, before taking the first shot with a companion.

My people are always spoken badly about. So what you say or think makes no difference to us. Lana downed the shot with gusto; tossing the clear liquid into her throat and letting it burn its way down into her stomach where it settled. Your idea of protection and my idea are two different ideas. You want to save the world. I don’t have any sort of illusions that I’m capable of that. When finally Bree had downed her shot, Lana refilled both of them again. The more alcohol she imbibed in the easier it was becoming to sit comfortably and carry on the conversation.

You expect me to get up and run? Koshka, I am not so easily frightened. Down went the shot and she plunked the empty glass back on the bar while cleaning around her lips with her tongue. Do you forget that it’s the dogs that chase the cats up the trees? She teased her drinking companion, clinking glasses together when Bree made a toast to new friends. Of course. Novye druzʹya! A third shot down the gullet; the burn having subsided a short while ago so that the vodka rolled smoothly down to her stomach.

Vengeance says you? What sort of vengeance? And against who for what? Now she was interested; turning on her perch so that she faced Bree and tilted her body against the bar. Being socially awkward (when sober) didn’t mean that Lana was disinterested in the people around her; it was just difficult for her to connect with others when she was raised to be a private individual. Alcohol tempered her inner fears, just as it was doing now. Each time she and Bree finished a shot, Lana would pour another one and the bottle would slowly drain whenever they drank one. Though she might not have the constitution of a Dwarf and she might not drink like a sailor, still she could hold her own.

Do you need help? I’m pretty good at taking things back that don’t belong to someone. She was better at killing. But when there was a special something that needed to be procured, then she did that too…just not as often.

Who would've thought that the slums would be THE place to meet and make... new friends? Off duty, they could be respectable acquaintances, but when work returned and put them back in line, that line of friendship might end up crossed. Bree already knew the harsh ordeal - having seen friends turned their back on friends when the need benefitted them, or others that paid them well to do so. Bree believed in keeping her words, and her honor in tact. The Terran Guard may have her allegiance, but they didn't guide how she should live her life.

If she was going to drink and make merry with a werewolf, then so be it. She might as well take advantage of the time they'd have together, before circumstances might pull them apart into a diffeent scenario altogether. Soldiers, mercenaries, guards... they all had to make room for that side of life that was too unpredictable for their own good. The alcohol sloshed around in her stomach as well, the heat pressing along the surface of her skin as her body started to digest the alcohol at a rapid rate. If she consistently drank and downed the shots in record time, she might even feel that buzz.

She smirked, "save the world, we must." she began as she lifted her shotglass after the refill. "and in our own special way... something's good in ya, wolf." She said as she leaned her hip against the counter. She took the vodka shot, and winced involuntarily. The taste was different from the whiskey she was used to, but she could manage in time. Alcohol, in the end, was alcohol and it would have the same effect of getting her inebriated if she drank enough.

Bree laughed, "touche, wolf! touche! That was a good one..." She waggled her finger playfully, feeling warm and fuzzy around the edges. Bree was in lighter spirits, the only time when alcohol was involved. She snickered, and set to pouring the next shot this time after the declaration of being new friends.

Ah, vengeance. She had a catlike sneer at the word, as she leaned in close, arctic eyes playfully glancing about for any signs of eavesdropper as she slid the glass over to Svetlana, and then held her own. "You see, I was made a fool of by a man, and not just any man. He was there at the android fiasco too, cut my damned suit open and had me breathing in those fumes - which by the way, really blows."she narrowed her eyes as a growl laced her town before she relaxed.

"But he took something that is precious from me. Very, very precious and I have any intention of getting it back. If he ever has a change of heart, and decides to return it on his own, I'll still kick his ass." The werecheetah said before leaning away and clinking her glass against Svetlana's."I'm not surprised with how you good you are with what you do. I'll consider this offer... it's not every day that a cat and dog would work together. Sounds like a bad cartoon, but a good idea." Bree chuckled. It was the closest to a giggle Bree could muster before she took another shot.

"So Svetlana," Bree began, "will this be a challenge to see who will drink who under the table? I would find it being a long, long way from now... You must have other plans other than hanging with dear old me."

Save the world? No. Her head was shaking in denial of that statement. Lana wasn’t trying to save the world from any bad guys. If one thought about it long enough, she could be included in that category as well. Not only for what she was, but also because of what she did for a living. I’m just trying to get by one day at a time without killing everyone. She winked and downed another shot. Killing by contract helped the werewolf to ease her conscious of all the deaths on her hands. Allowing the redhead some peace at night when she laid her head down. If she killed for a cause then who could judge her for them? She was not exactly a murder. So the only thing good in me is… when she couldn’t think of anything, Lana shrugged and poured out more of the clear liquid for herself.

As Bree started on her monologue about the reason for her vengeance, Lana sat forward a little. She appeared in completely rapture as she brunette spoke; giving the appropriate responses at all the appropriate times. She couldn’t comment on the part of being made fool of by a man. Lana knew very few men and none of them had enough power to make her look like the fool. Oh da. Those gas bombs were the worst! The redhead agreed wholeheartedly with her companion; involuntarily reaching up to rub at her nose as she did. Damn things had not only upset her strong constitution but also agitated her werewolf. She’d had to make a beeline for the exit before the real fun had begun.

Normally when someone takes something they don’t have the intention of returning it. Picking up the vodka bottle, Lana peered into its empty chamber. Damn, they had drunk it all and the night was still young. She barely felt tipsy although her bladder was screaming at her now. Excusing herself, she stood up and weaved through the bar towards the restrooms. Her destination marked by the sign that clearly marked RESTROOMS at the back of the bar. It was definitely a situation to squat in; the lavatory no more spectacular than the barroom itself. Less so even and she made haste to return to Bree’s company. Cringing as she retook her seat and propping her head up in her hand.

I wasn’t thinking of challenging you to a drinking game. I was actually about to leave. Tomorrow starts a new hunt for me. Reaching into her pocket and pulling out a wad of cash bound together by a rubber band, Lana dropped enough of the bills on the bar to pay for the bottle they had drunk, a generous tip plus whatever Bree had before Lana had joined her. Perhaps one day we’ll meet again. With her cash returned to her pocket, she patted the cheetah on the shoulder. Nostrovia, koshka. Turning on the heels of her boots, she left, returning to the familiar walls of her hotel room.

[exit Lana]