milliways_bar | (no subject)

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In an out of the way corner of the bar, Fuchsia is pacing.

Ok, perhaps throwing a mild fit would be more descriptive. But it's a quiet fit and any talking she's doing is to herself.

She's not crazy, honest. Just dramatic.

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From over at a booth, Jaina is watching Fuchsia with a concerned interest. Finally, after a moment or two of indecision, she grabs her caf mug and walks over.

"Is everything alright?"

Fuchsia looks at Jaina, utterly panicked.

"I haven't got a way to pay my tab yet and they're going to stop giving me food!" She flusters, then pauses. "If I'm dead, do I need to eat?"

Jaina blinks, caught by surprise. If Fuchsia wasn't a strange to Jaina, there would be Force usage now, probably a wave of peace and reassurance that would help to clam the panic.

But Fuchsia isn't someone Jaina knows, so she goes with the next best thing. Talking.

"Are you dead?" Perhaps not the best way to start out this conversation. "Because, if you are, then you don't need to worry about food, eh?"

"Yes, I am. I drowned." Fuchsia nods and momentarily stops wringing her hands. "So I don't need food. But what about my room? ...even though it's a horrible room."

Jaina frowns thoughtfully, and runs a hand through part of her hair. "Have you tried getting a job here? Or asking friends for help?"

"Someone suggested I read stories to the children here and I started writing one, but what if they don't like it? Or what if none show up?" She starts to pace again, taking long, ungraceful strides.

"You never know unless you give it a shot." Jaina shrugs and then flashes Fuchsia a lopsided grin. "Anyway, isn't the point to get these children to show up? They don't necessarily have to like the story."

"Oh, but they'd have to like it." Fuchsia insists. "I couldn't bear for them to be disappointed."

"Alright. Then we'll go in to this with a positive outlook. The kids will like it. And you'll get money to help pay off your tab."

"All right." She agrees reluctantly, calming down some. "What about dressing up games? Children like those, don't they? I know I did."

"I believe so. At least the children at the Academy enjoyed the time Wes Janson came for a visit and tricked Master Horn in to dressing like an overgrown Ewok."

Jaina chuckles a little at the memory. "It's one of the few times we were happy to be there."

"Well, I can combine the two then, I suppose." She nods, more to herself, then looks abruptly at Jaina.

"What's an Ewok?"

"It's a small, furry mammalian sentient in my galaxy. It's about this high," Jaina explains, holding her hand up to her stomach.

Ah, the joys of being short.

"Wes is obsessed with them."

"Is it like a monkey?" Fuchsia asks in a whisper.

Jaina blinks. "What's a monkey?"

Fuchsia is stumped for a moment.

"They're animals. Furry, with long tails." Her voice lowers again. "I was given one as a present once."

She considers this for a moment and then shakes her head. "Ewoks don't have tails. And unless it's a stuffed animal version, they don't make for presents."

"I don't really think monkeys do, either." Fuchsia confides. "I didn't keep it."

"What happened to it?"

"I told the man who wanted me to have it that I didn't want it. He kept it, I guess." She frowns and slowly starts to pace again. "I don't know what happened to it after that."

"Maybe it lived a good life," Jaina suggests softly, although honestly, she doubts it. "But I supposed that's besides the point, eh?"

"I don't think it did. He wasn't a good man."

"I'm sorry," Jaina says softly. "It didn't deserve that."

Fuchsia waves a hand, almost as if trying to wipe the memory from her mind.

"It's no matter now. It's done with."

"And there's no point dwelling on the past," Jaina agrees.

And then remembers her manners and holds out a hand in introduction. "Jaina Fel."

"Fuchsia Groan." She shakes Jaina's hand firmly. Fuchsia is anything but delicate.

"You must think I'm silly carrying on like that to a complete stranger."

Jaina shakes her head, smiling softly. "We've known people to go on about worse. It's a legimate concern."

"I suppose it is." She offers a small smile back. "Thank you, you've been most encouraging."

"You're welcome. Hope this job thing works out for you."

An eyebrow raises, watching the dramatic woman pacing. He glances around, cautiously, debating over a matter in silence to himself. No, no, he thinks, too exposed. And decides with a frown that although it's a terrible shame, he couldn't.

So he continues past.

And Fuchsia is none the wiser, still muttering to herself and walking the same circle over and over again.

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