[center][h1]”Damages”[/h1][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XKUjz6M.png[/img][/center] Collaborative post with [@wanderingwolf][hr] "Indulge me with 'nother round if ya will." Imani held up the empty glass, shaking it slightly once the bartender turned his attention to her. He was happy to oblige as he nodded his approval; business was business after all. “Much appreciated.” The young woman currently sat alone in one of the local bars near the Doll, the name unknown. After a much-needed slumber, Imani figured it’d do her good to get a drink or two in her system. Besides, the ship was slightly too quiet for her taste then, preferring the buzzing voices of the chatter heads in the vicinity. Though her outing wasn’t without risk, she kept a low profile covering 'erself up. And on her way out she’d seen Yuri and had specified she’d be just across the way. Nice fella, that one. If he was any indication as to the remaining crew, then her trip would be quite pleasant. The thought made her smile, also in time to get that second round placed in front of her. Another first sip that went down smoothly made Imani look forward to this supposed great food onboard her new temporary home. "I'll claim," Cal said. With his hat resting on the chair back, he eyed the Orange tall card, gauging the reaction of the other two players at the table. "Strand claims the tall," said the dealer, a large, brutish woman at his right elbow, whose leather smock proclaimed her daytime duty as a butcher. After a deadpan interrogation of her cards, she chewed on her words, "Dealer folds." Reclining, Cal's eyes swung to the scrawny man at his left elbow. The man flipped his cards between his palms before slapping them face-down on the table. "Now I knew you were a smart man!" the Captain said with a grin as he leaned forward to rake the pot. "Three hands yew claimed, Strand. Three! Ain't nobody that lucky, yew heer?" The scrawny man leveled a finger at Cal's overturned cards: a five of a kind, all Orange suit. "Nobody butta cheeter!" "And now I gotta eat crow." Cal said, straightening out the bills into a neat pile. "Brains plum weren't in your cards to begin with, was it?" The resulting blow across the chin knocked the wind out of Cal for a moment, but that was enough for the large butcher woman to enclose his arms in a vice-grip while the scrawny man began his second assault on Cal's stomach. Some commotion or the other drew her attention enough for Imani to glance over her shoulder, drink in hand simultaneously being placed down on the bartop. Seemed a couple of patrons had overpowered some poor chap who was being pummeled halfway to next week. Imani figured it best to leave as no attention was good attention. She waved over the bartender and paid her tab, unfortunately having to leave the still half full glass behind. Making her way being more curious than she outta be, Imani glimpsed at the victim, her pace naturally slowing as she walked past towards the exit. No one she recognized, which was good. [i]"Mind ya business!"[/i] Skin and bones doing the beating spat at her, [i]"Nosy gorram bitch!"[/i] Cocking an eyebrow at him, Imani silently nodded. Her blood began to boil from being addressed as such to the extent where she then decided to make it her business too. She crept up behind him and quickly snaked an arm under his neck, pulling with all her might, practically lifting him off his seat. His arms thrashed at her instinctively, but Imani upped her efforts and squeezed tighter. His response came in the form of a sad attempt at verbal communication, though the end result was nothing but gibberish. Shrimp boy could've been turning all forms of blue, yet no one was coming to his aid, least not quick enough. His struggles intensified, and Imani lost her footing as a result. She fell on her side with shrimp boy being dragged down as well, the sudden slack giving him the chance to get a quick breath in. Seemed that was all he needed, though Imani recognized the small advantage he could gain. She ignored his neck and as he was coughing up a storm, she swung her leg to straddle him, using one arm to prop herself up followed by the free hand coming down on his jaw. Her fist made contact, and shrimp boy was out cold. Bit of bloody knuckles aside, Imani gripped his jaw to face him straight. He wasn't responding, his body not the least bit stiff. To his sputtering surprise, Cal found the beatings had ceased, leaving his ribs aching. The large woman who held him tight from behind like a punching bag loosened her grip, granting the Captain the opportunity for a hail Mary stomp on her instep. Her howl was met with a timely elbow to the chin which landed Cal on his own two feet again. [i]"Mei Yong Ma Duh Tse Gu Yong!"[/i] she bellowed before rearing up and shoving Cal into his would-be savior, Imani. Cal did his best to break his fall against her, but the nail goes where the hammer tells it to… Just about propping herself upright, Imani was knocked off balance by some weight greater than her own. She gasped, surprised by the sudden force sending her face first onto the floor. Imani managed to prevent some damage by using her hands, though her head still bounced off from the impact like a playground ball, the result being a gash just over her brow. Gathering herself, she turned to face what was keeping her pinned, and come to find out it was the man in need of rescuing. Trouble for him now meant trouble for her, though not if she could help it. "Tryna make new friends? I believe they want us out..." "You get that from their genteel tone?" Cal growled, rolling off of the woman. He hadn't taken a beating like this in donkey’s years; lucky the scrawny one didn't keep a tight enough lip, really. A moment later the enormous butcher laid hands on Imani, pulling her to her feet. Cal noticed the man laid out like a limp fish beside him as he gathered his wits. Whoever Strand's savior was had done a number on his lineaments. As the large woman drew her to height, Cal spat blood on the barroom floor. Her feet were effortlessly jerked off the ground. Imani had little to no time to react to the beefy woman, and so she instinctively threw a few kicks as she braced herself to be dropped like a bag of potatoes. The woman sure held her strength though, especially when she threw a fist flying towards Imani. The result was none too pretty as Imani's body temporarily went limp prior to her hitting the deck. Conscious nonetheless, and probably with the aid of whatever intervention, she had the time to get her wits about to reach for her top inconspicuous weapon of choice. A large hand was reaching down towards her and Imani put in all her might into stabbing the open palm, the scream that followed a result she had done right by herself. The women fought viciously, even as his valiant rescuer's face hit wooden planks yet again. Strand saw his moment to intervene as the butcher closed in on Imani. He rose to his feet and picked up a chair to wield against the attacker, but it was all moot. As Imani produced a lethal weapon, the barkeep racked his shotgun from behind the bar. Cal's weaponized chair paused in midair as he laid eyes on the business end of the weapon, along with the sole warning from the seedy bar's owner: "Leave on yer feet, or leave in a bag." The large butcher woman halted her assault in favor of licking her wounds, her free hand holding pressure on the gaping wound Imani had caused her palm. "Don't know about you," Cal said to Imani, dropping the chair, his hands raised, "But I'll take option number one." "It'd be suicide not to follow your lead," Imani shot a dirty look at the barkeep, her hand rubbing the pained jaw in an attempt to soothe the sore away. "And leave yer cheatin' card money on the bar on yer way out. I'll call it damages," the bartender said, eyes sweeping over the mess their little brawl had wrought. Cal shook his head, reaching into his breast pocket to retrieve the bills, slapping them on the shined wood surface. Following the man outside the bar, she hurried up to his side. "That was quite the dramatic encounter, wouldn't you say? Fortunately for you, my presence there saved your rear." Imani "Are you often the troublemaker?" Cal's face said he was feeling the 'drama' all over his ribs, the shiner on his eye, and his solar-plexus. "Trouble has a--" he coughed, which wracked his chest in a particularly painful wave, "--way of findin' me." "That surely it does..." her words slowed and so did she, a hand hovered over his back instinctively in a protective manner as he coughed up hell. The consequences from whatever money play he had himself all involved in was evident now, if it wasn't before. "Ah," Strand said as his hand pressed to his rib, "Doc's not goin' to like this..." He looked up at Imani, stopping to lean on his knees. "Thanks for steppin' in. Reckon I owe you," He coughed again, before asking "You got a name?" "I got a name, but I ain't too keen on sharing—though I'll make an exception since I reckon you oughta meet your savior... I go by Imani, part-time hero I suppose," she shrugged her shoulders, looking at him as his struggled on. "Hope this doctor of yours is good." “She’s no slouch, but I don’t reckon she’ll like the story what led to this.” He paused to assess the damage on his counterpart, “Ain’t a scratch on you. Quick thinkin’ with the knife.” He nodded his head before straightening. “Tell you what, Imani, since I owe you, already, might I impose a ways further? My boat’s up ahead, and standin’ upright at this moment feels damn near [i]Bu Kuh Nuhn[/i]. Get me there, and I’ll make it worth your while.” Cal’s ribs ached him back into a doubled over position, but he stuck out a hand to shake nonetheless. (trans. impossible) "Ain't got a scratch yet, but mainly 'cause the damage done was internal." Imani looked him over when he made his request. She studied the stranger, his looks on par with someone getting theyselves in a ruckus over some winnings. A little arrogant too, from what she gathered, but not particularly a bad thing since he seemed trusting enough. "I can spare some time, long as you don't get us killed 'fore we get there." Eventually the two reached their destination, or [i]a[/i] destination. The China Doll herself. "I don't even have your name but you happen to know where I stay? Thought I was escorting you back, being all 'gentlemanly' for your sake and all." Cal stood himself upright and took tender steps toward the Doll, attempting to keep stride with Imani. At her balking he replied, “Where [i]you’re[/i] stayin’? Well, I’d be tempted to chalk it up to fate you’d be signed on my boat; Cal Strand, Captain,” he said,offering her a hand to shake. “And far as I can tell, you sure throw a punch like a gentleman, I’ll give you that. You a passenger to Pelorum?” The Captain said, stepping onto the ramp of his home. "What do you know, quite the coincidence ain't it?" she shook his hand with a gentle touch. So he was a captain...suiting job for a man like him. Imani followed him up the ramp as she didn't see the need to stick around out in the open. "Looks like we're both fighters, though you heavily outrank me as I am indeed but a passenger." She looked behind her for a moment, then turned her attention to Strand once more. "The destination don't matter as much as my need to get outta here," Imani shrugged her shoulders. “I can handle myself,” he said unconvincingly, working his jaw with the heel of his palm. “Anywhere but here, huh?” That started the cogs to turning in the Captain’s head as he paused toward his inevitable fate of limping past the infirmary. This woman could hold her own. The way she knocked out the scrawny man with a single blow, then ended things quick with the butcher told him she’d scrapped her way a plenty. “Next few hops past Pelorum could see me in a couple more brawls; you lookin’ for work?” If he had any luck left in the Verse, Alana’d be out and about by now, but seeing how he just got the la shi kicked out of him for cheating at cards, something told him lady luck had passed him by. "A job you say?" she smirked, her eyes focused forward as her day suddenly took a turn for the better despite the previous incident.. [i]Looks like someone is indeed in need of some rescuin' in the future...[/i] Imani kept the last bit to herself, placing a hand on his back. "It never hurts to strike a deal, the legal and fair kind I mean... Let's talk details over some painkillers, shall we?"