etraya | UN: d.johnson

Been better.

[She admits, the exhaustion and pain obvious in her voice.]

They tried to kill me by poisoning me.

Poison, ( clarke repeats, then comes a pregnant pause in which she's very obviously battling with herself when it comes to asking follow up questions. like, where in the city did this happen? fast acting or slow? method of delivery? but buckle all that up for a little later, focus on the now. )

Did they actually manage to dose you? I'm not sure what the hospital has in terms of anti-toxins, but I can go look.

That’s what I was told, but who knows what it actually was.

[Whatever it was, it hurt. Or maybe that was solely from the blade that had been rammed into her shoulder.]

Whatever it was, it was on the blade they stabbed me with.

[Daisy smiles sadly, even if she can’t see it.]

I appreciate it, but I’m being looked after already.

( clarke lets out a little breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. it's barely audible, tinged with the ghost of relief even if the situation as a whole still seemed dire. )

Okay, good. I'm glad. The offer stands, whenever needed.

( but daisy is self proclaimed looked after, so they can move onto another topic. one that's been itching at the back of her throat since the mention of metal suit. )

Can you tell me more about the suit that guy was wearing?

( and yeah, it's guy not person because clarke already has an inkling... )

Thank you.

[Daisy says, sincerity in her tone. Despite having talked about this already, it’s still difficult for her to think about. Which is why it takes her a moment to answer her question.]

I didn’t see much of them, it happened fast. But they were in some sort of metal suit. Hard to make out the colors because it was dark out.

[Daisy realizes that Clarke says ‘guy’ rather than person.]

Do you know who it was?

I have an idea, but — ( the version she'd met had been arguably nice. they'd been locked together in one of those little hospital rooms and even managed to come out of the trial with a success. and even if it was just a moment shared, she doesn't feel keen throwing anyone under the bus without more certainty. )

I know you said it was dark, but did the metal suit have any defects? Scuffs, or scrapes, or... weird burn marks?

[Clarke might be able to make out the faint sounds of the heart monitor picking up, Daisy’s heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

She knows who this is.

Daisy closes her eyes, going back to the memories that are still fresh, yet a blur, in her mind.]

There were scuffs.

( she is familiar enough with the sound of an ekg to catch the spiked uptick in daisy's heartrate; beep beep to beepbeepbeep, and clarke knows she's struck unwanted paydirt. )

But no weird burn mark?

( tinged optimism. maybe she was wrong, she'd very much like to be. )

[ Fett's not much of a talker and he's definitely not used to gently prying answers out of people, so aside from his initial query, he's mostly been content to let others do the asking for him and simply listen in for any relevant information. That said, he takes special notice when a familiar voice begins to proceed along a very specific line of questioning...

Fett thinks he might as well simplify this interaction.

His video feed opens on the front of his helmet, black visor fixed on the camera. ]

She wants to know if your attacker looked like me.

[Daisy's about to answer Clarke when a video feed pops up, and her stomach drops at the sight of them. The memories flooding back to her, and the monitor becomes louder in the background. Her mouth feels dry as she answers,]

They did.

[It only occurs to her now that it may have not been him, but his double.]

( absolute relief courses through clarke, as the onus of naming names is taken off her shoulders by fett's timely appearance. honestly, she hadn't been sure how to proceed with the conversation, and can be heard exhaling a breath — only to immediately clam up again when daisy confirms the suspicion that'd been nagging at the back of her mind.

despite no one asking her to, clarke immediately tries to play mediator. )

Okay, but — just because he looked like him doesn't mean it was him, because... He probably wouldn't have spoken up if that was the case. Right? We can all agree on that?

[ Well. Fett can't say he expected that answer. Still, he's rather more surprised by his recent acquaintance jumping in to defend him. His reputation in his own galaxy—and that of his people—means many would be prepared to accept any sort of accusation of violence at face value. There's a bit of an awkward pause before Fett speaks up again, not quite sure how to respond to Clarke's attempt at mediation. ]

I wasn't the one who attacked you, [ Fett says, choosing to address the other woman instead. ] They could have been another Mandalorian—someone else with armor like mine.

[ It is odd, though. Despite what some may believe, Mandalorians aren't any more indiscriminately violent than the rest of the galaxy—they'll attack and kill others in war, for pay, or as a manner of honor, but there's no honor in attacking an unarmed stranger without reason.

There's also another discrepancy. ]

If they were a Mandalorian, I don't think they were trying to kill you. Otherwise, you'd be dead.

[ Which begs the question: if they didn't want to kill her, what did they want? ]

[Clarke’s words don’t calm her down very much. Not when new memories flood her mind of the attack. Daisy closes her eyes as she listens to them talk, trying to calm her mind enough to force the memories down.

Another Mandalorian? She’s not sure what that is, but Clarke has a point. If he has done it, why would he come forward? Sure, there are some who may do something like that for this exact reason. To sow doubt.]

They didn’t kill me because I forced them away from me.

[Daisy says, anger seeping into her tone. It’s not necessarily directed at either them, but at the situation as a whole.]

What’s a Mandalorian?

Edited 2024-04-27 12:18 (UTC)

[ Considering the woman is from a completely different universe where Mandalorians might well not exist, it's a reasonable question. It's also one that doesn't have a straightforward answer when removed from its original context. "Followers of the Resol'nare" likely won't mean anything to her, and "Depends on who you ask," would be even more unhelpful.

Fett opts for a broad overview. ]

Clan-based warrior culture. And unless you killed or knocked them out in the process, there's no way they'd let you walk away if they wanted you dead. That's not how we work.

[ There's no heat nor pride in his voice when he says it. He's not boasting—just stating a fact. But even if their mystery Mandalorian was attempting to inflict harm rather than kill outright, it still doesn't answer why. ]

Tell me about the attack. In detail.

[She doubts his words are meant to reassure her, and Daisy’s thoughts keep going back to him saying that whoever it was, they weren’t trying to kill her.]

Usually when someone poisons you, it’s to kill you.

[Daisy says sharply, or as sharply as she can given how weak she is at the moment.

Still, he asks for details and with some hesitation she answers.]

It’s hard to remember all of it, but they had been following me for a while. I didn’t see them until they attacked. They pinned my arm down-

[Daisy stops for a moment, swallowing thickly at the shooting pain that goes up her arm.]

Broke it in the process, and then stabbed me in the shoulder with some kind of blade that had a poison on it.

[At least, that’s what she had been told was on it.]

Edited 2024-04-27 13:16 (UTC)

Not always, [ Fett says mildly. He understands the woman's desire to cling to her initial narrative: in the wake of such an attack, it must be comforting to think of oneself as having successfully fought of a murderous assailant than it is to acknowledge that the only reason you're alive is because they'd allowed you to be so. Doesn't mean he's going to coddle it. ]

And then? You pushed them back and they just... walked away?

Usually is.

[Daisy counters, arguably a bit immature. But she can’t think of what else they’d be trying to do.]

Something like that.

[She’s not about to tell them about her powers. It’s only after she answers him that Daisy considers his point.

If he had wanted to kill her, he would have. Her stomach drops as the realization hits her.]

What were they trying to do?

[Because he might know the answer.]

[ Fett considers for a moment. He still doesn't have the answer, but the fact that her attacker left after stabbing her and dosing her with whatever poison was on the blade seems significant—as if that had been their purpose in attacking her all along. ]

Do you still have the knife?

It’s probably still on the street where I was attacked, if someone hasn’t picked it up.

[She remembers she hadn’t been far from the apartments when it happened.]

A block south of the apartments.

( for the duration of their conversation clarke is quiet, an off screen presence but one with nothing of note to way in with. daisy asks questions that had never come up during her and fett's drink making competition, and he answers with ready information that clarke just gets to soak up as a third party. you learn something new every day while on a strange new planet, but the overarching theme tends to be that everyone comes from scary places.

two specific talking points manage to elicit a reaction, however. the first: fett's ominous not always in response to daisy saying poison was often meant to kill. she has to agree, sometimes it was used to incapacitate, and in a not-so-distant memory a manufactured drug that might as well have been categorized as poison. it had a nearly 100% fatality rate in the long run, and with the unbidden reminder pushing to the front of her thoughts clarke opens her mouth and makes the slightest beginning gurgle of speech before quieting herself.

the second: oh, she's in the apartments. and a city block is like, a three minute walk? easily done, and this time she pitches in with full volume. )

I can go check.

( she had offered to run errands for daisy just a few minutes earlier, and this doesn't sound like any sort of weapon that ought to just be left out on the street. are there any children running around this city? even if not there had to be a handful of willful idiots...

cue the rustle of clothes and almost immediate squeak of door hinges that indicate clarke's already on her way. )

[ Fett nods to Clarke's offer. ] If you do find it, one of the med-droids at the hospital might be able to analyze whatever it was coated with.

[ Perhaps it won't reveal the identity of the woman's attacker, but it could at least shed light on their motive. If there is a rogue Mandalorian running around attacking people, Fett feels at least somewhat responsible for reigning them in; he is Mand'alor, after all, though whether or not that will hold any sway to a Mandalorian likely from a completely different era remains to be seen.

With Clarke occupied with her errand, he turns his attention back to the dark-haired woman. ]

What happened after you were stabbed? What did the poison do to you?

Thank you.

[Daisy says when Clarke offers to go look for the blade. In the short amount of time thats passed, Daisy has calmed down a little. At least when it came to him, but now she’s worried about whatever the other Mandalorian’s intentions had been.]

It felt like my whole body was set on fire, the pain was—

[Daisy pauses, closing her eyes briefly at the memory.]

My body started to spasm. At some point, I passed out and then woke up in the hospital.

[She really doesn’t want to know, but she asks anyway.]

What do you think their end goal was?

Edited 2024-04-28 12:44 (UTC)

[ Pain and spasms could describe the effects of a whole host of poisons. But it does feel telling that it wasn't a simple paralytic; her attacker hadn't just wanted her incapacitated—they'd wanted her to suffer. ]

I don't know. Sending a message, maybe.

[ Could be an overzealous new conscript looking to intimidate the competition. Still, even that doesn't feel quite right. Stalking and attacking an unarmed woman walking alone at night signals cowardice, not strength. If the goal was intimidation, why not go for someone more formidable? It doesn't make much sense from a Mandalorian point of view.

Of course, Mandalorians don't always commit violence for their own enjoyment... ]

Do you have any enemies here?

Could’ve just used their words to do that.

[Daisy says dryly, shifting on the hospital bed in an attempt to get comfortable.]

Not that I’m aware of, no. But it would be a total surprise either. People tend to have harsh opinions about me.

( as background noise to their continued conversation: the rapid footfall and restrained breathing of someone trying to move their quickest, but who hasn't fiddled with the communication device enough to know how to mute her end of the conversation yet. that'll be her next venture decidedly, after this helpful side quest.

the streets of etraya are not familiar enough to rush through easily, clarke still uses the sun's trek across the sky to orient herself towards the southern block. but she makes good time, and slows to begin picking around the street with keen eyes. be it the helper bots religiously sweeping the streets or simply the fact the populace here is tiny in comparison to any real city, but there's not a lot to pick over. no glint of light off metal to guide her way, but still something distinctly —

huh. that's not like any blade she's ever seen, but the shape fits. )

Hey, I found — hang on.

( maybe unable to mute herself, but it takes barely a fiddle to flip her feed from audio to forward facing visual. same as she looks down at it, the others' screens are now treated to the sight of something... organic-looking? vaguely pink and porous, but curled and shaped into a wickedly sharp point. and hey, there's blood on it, right? dried and flakey but unmistakable. this could be a knife.

a split second into the feed, the video zooms in as clarke bends over and reaches to pick it up. )

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