Reevaluating
Reevaluating
Summary: After the attack.
Date: Backscene.
Related Logs: Tangled
Players:
Rayya Moseme 
Arrow Deliveries — Slums — Coronet City
Some garage.
The morning after.

It's four in the morning when Rayya Siham comes to. Soft blue light streams through the windows of the garage, the first hint of the brilliant Corellian dawn soon to come. In the corner, her sister's maintenance droid hums to life, its dull golden eyes blinking as it processes the orders of the day. The sound of whirring gears echoes in the cavernous room, rousing the wounded girl from her sleep like the world's least pleasant alarm clock. And if that weren't incentive enough, it's getting harder to ignore the stabbing pains thrumming through her body from all those cuts and bruises, the combined force of which is enough to elicit a low, pained moan as she rolls over onto her back. Mussed brown hair falls into a pool of fuel that's been dripping from her wounded swoop, fuel that clings to split ends and frazzled roots with stubborn determination. Yeah, that'll be a real hassle to get off.

In other words: rise and shine.

Mouse, for her part had closed the shop door long ago and sealed it. Standing watch for a little, eventually exhaustion settled in and she's settled to the corner amongst some barrels of parts. Her arms folded over her chest, her chin rests against her chest as she slumbers. She starts to stir and yawns some with the slight sounds that break the tempo she had fallen asleep to. Blinking a few times, Moseme just shifts and snores a little before she yawns again, actually drawing up to stretch. Hmmmming, she rubs at the back of her neck and rolls a shoulder forward as she blinks away.

Hesitantly, Rayya pushes herself to her feet, using a nearby stack of boxes to help her up. Wide eyes look about the room as she tries to get her bearings, a shaking hand moving to brush away the crust that's gathered below her lashes. "Morning, Kay-Arr," she murmurs to the droid - and then the pain hits again and she decides it's probably a better idea not to talk. Still trying to adjust to the half-lit room, the girl begins padding her way to the first-aid kit on the wall, noticing far too late that she's just stepped on the prone body of her savior - about whom she's almost forgotten. With a muffled squeak Rayya jumps back, and as bandages and ointments spill out onto the floor, she barely manages to keep her footing. "S-sorry!" she whimpers, clinging onto a column so she doesn't slam into the ground. "I-I did - didn't - didn't - " The stammering continues as she sinks to her knees, positively mortified.

It is a grunt-oof that sounds as she is stepped on, literally. Blinking, Mouse is up and moving, her hand shooting out rather swiftly in reflex to grab at the poor frightened Rayya. But as she takes hold, she blinks and looks again, focusing on the girl as her location is finally ascertained through the haze of sleep. "Oh…..hey now." She says, her voice warming still deep in the threshold of sleep. Her hand retracts and she scrubs at her face, rubbing up through her hair. "Calm down now, its okay…" She looks the girl over, tilting her head. "Hey, how you doing sweetheart?" She asks her, moving to her knees and closer to the other female as she reaches out to inspect the wounds if allowed. "Hmmmm, did a number on you didn't they?" Mouse has her own share of wounds but doesn't seem to be really paying any heed to them.

"Uh-huh." Rayya flinches back from the other woman's touch by reflex, and then realizes what she's done. With another mumbled apology, she steads her rap-tap-tapping heart long enough to permit the most cursory of examinations. Never really tanned to begin with, the girl's face looks a bit more pallid than normal, and her delicate features are marred by a mess of angry purple bruises. "Wh-who are you?" she manages. "A-and who were - were - um." Gulp. "Y-you know." They.

"Me? Oh I am Mouse, little one and well those, those are what we call underworld scum. YOu know..like what you skim off the potholes in the lower levels? Forget 'em." Moseme offers and then shifts forward, kneeling on one knee and curling the other up to her chest as her hands reach out to push back the scraggly hair. "Well first off, you need to clean up so the wounds can be seen, then I can see about fixing you up." She offers, drawing her hands back and rubbing them on her fitted leggings. "Come on now..what's your name?" She asks of the young girl, smiling some. "Nice place you got.." She also adds, rising and dusting herself off before she offers her hand down to Rayya.

You can bet she's not going to forget them anytime soon, but for the moment, the delivery girl has more important things on her mind. Indeed, it doesn't take long for Rayya's cheeks to turn bright red when Mouse mentions seeing her wounds. "I - I can do it myself," she mumbles, moving gingerly around the other woman to gather up all the assorted medical supplies scattered all over. Knobby fingers push back her oil-slicked hair, drawing back for a moment in disgust. "And it's n-not my p-place. It's m-my sister's. S-she lets m-me work here." As for who she is? "I-I'm R-rayya. J-just Rayya." It looks like she can't even say her own name without stammering.

A brow lifts at the timidness of the delivery girl and folds her arms before her. "Seems like you were about to take a spill and be afraid of the bandages. Hey…but its your choice." she shrugs, moving her fingers up to the cut along her cheek, stretching it a little to break the scab some. "Hmmmm, well you are alive, that is a plus.." Mouse moves, straining herself and stretching as she begins to move about the place, eyes wandering and inspecting. She clears her throat before her eyes follow Rayya and she sighs, moving to help her pick everything up. "Really, I don't bite."

"Y-you were b-biting out there," the girl observes shyly. Her smile is a tentative one, but as she favors Mouse with that wan expression, her face seems to brighten just a bit. "Th-that - th - " Rayya has to pause for breath to stand back up, her knees trembling unsteadily before she rights herself with surprising force of will. "Th-that was r-really great," she says very quickly, as if to prevent herself from changing her mind.

"Well I bite only the people that deserve it." Mouse winks at Rayya, as she gathers up a few bandages. "You weren't so bad out there yourself, can't believe you drove that thing..after it was so chopped up. That handle..and I can't believe I got on with you." Moseme admits, giving the thing a wary look before settling blue eyes back on the other girl, "Well girly…I am glad I could help, but if I let you take care of my nicks..I could take care of yours. Easier to see what you can't.." She offers again, holding out the bandage rolls if she wants them.

Rayya bites her bottom lip, her wary eyes darting down to the bandages in the other woman's hands. Then, with a mute little nod, she wrings what oil she can out of her hair and draws it up in a crude bun behind her. A nervous hand lifts the hem of her blouse up to reveal a very bruised midriff slashed here and there with scars. Her gaze drops to the ground as she looks everywhere except at the other woman, though her smile widens just a little bit at the comment about driving. Let modesty reign.

"Ahhh there we go." Mouse says gently, trying not to make her blush anymore than she is. Shifting closer, she lets herself rest back on her butt and circles her arm around one leg she hugs to her chest. "Not bad…not bad. Not too deep there, Reckless.." She intones, "Looks like they are shallow." She looks through the fallen medical supplies and lifts some bacta spray, shaking it a little and checking the date. "Hmmm new supplies are recommended." Murmurs the woman and she is spraying a thin coat over the wounds, reaching out with the gauze to dap at the excess. "Little achye huh?" She asks without looking up. "Probably right down your core and spine….?" She asks, tilting her head some before she gazes up at her and begins to put some bacta patches into place.

The girl lets Mouse work in silence, wincing every so often as cool bacta presses into her wounds. Her eyes flit from one place to another, never staying anywhere for too long. Every so often she'll gasp despite herself when Mouse hits a particularly sore spot, but, screwing up her will, she forces herself to stay in one place instead of bolting for the nearest door. But the quick dismissal of the quality of her first aid kit causes Rayya to show some fire, albeit after she takes a couple of seconds to compose herself. "R-r-rana tries as h-hard as she c-c-can," Rayya says defensively, while little droplets of oil run down the nape of her neck to settle on the frills of her dirty white blouse. "B-b-but business - it's s-slower now. Too m-many gangs." It's not safe, she doesn't add.

"It's never been safe, darling…let me tell you. They just got bolder." Mouse intones, trying to take care before she motions for her to drop the shirt. "OKay…well try as she might, you got out of date stuff here." She says, "Later I can get you something better, but for now..this will have to do. Remember, bacta is a fungus..living organism. It does have a shelf life." She smiles some, letting her gaze flit over the younger woman. "Besides, I got a place we can go if you like. Get you some fresh clothes and clean up…you seem skiddish of your sister." She intones. That said, she draws back, resting her arm on her leg as she tilts her head, assuming an unthreatening pose as she waits for Rayya to get comfortable enough to show the next wound.

That'll take more courage than Rayya has at the moment. With another mute nod, she's grabbing a handful of patches and tiptoes behind a stack of boxes that's taller than she is. "D-d-don't look," she orders with very little assurance at all. And then all Mouse will hear is the soft rustle of shifting fabric and a few more pained gasps before, in a minute or two, she tiptoes back around. It's a fair bet she doesn't realize she's just put her blouse on topsy-turvy, judging from the tag that's showing at the back of her neck. The remaining medicine she offers in Mouse's general direction before she settles back on her left foot, crossing her right leg behind it so she can tap her toes against the ground. "Th-thanks but n-no," is her response to the offer, tilting her head towards her swoop. "I've got t-to fix this. B-before Rana c-comes and - " There's that fearful shrug again. "I've got t-to fix this," she finishes, somewhat pathetically. "She's - she's c-counting on me."

Mouse can not help the smirk at the request, but she turns, holding up her hands to show that she doesn't plan anything. Moseme offers her back to reassure poor little Rayya. There is a sigh and she looks around, tapping her foot faintly to a beat unheard. "You know, I warned I don't bite, but not looking." She also says. Once it seems all is clear and good, Mouse turns and takes the medicine offere, given the top a look, she lifts her finger to point at her and then reach it back to make a swirl at the back of her own neck. "Umm..you kinda forgot to turn it right side out.." She says, just casually, some judging in her voice as she looks at the other girl. "I can turn again.." She offers, motioning to the area behind her.

And to think that blush was going away, too. Rayya yelps something incoherent under her breath before hobbling off behind those boxes again, fleeing as fast as she's able. "I-it's okay!" she calls. Rustle-rustle. Now her blouse is in the proper place, but bits of it are stained a dirty brown from the bacta doing its thing beneath. One gets the impression, though, that at this point the girl recognizes the futility of trying to make herself look presentable.

Somewhere in the corner, KR-6R beeps unhappily. "Delivery failed," the droid announces to the room as a whole. "Negative report filed. Oh dear. Reevaluating. Very negative report filed."

"The d-doctor," says Rayya, her shoulders slumping forward.

Mouse is too busy address the neck and cheek wound she had received, all else can go frel itself. Time will heal bruises. But it is the retort of the droid about the goods. "Oh, frel, that's right. Bad luck that." she intones, not really paying too much heed. "I would probably fix that bike of yours and see if you can't at least salvage some fo what you lost." She advises, moving across the front to inspect the bike as she laces a small bandage over the cut along her cheek. A toss of half greasy dark hair and she murmurs, "Need a good bath, nice bed. There is this nice little flat that just got vacated..great place to crash. Bet you could see about moving there for now so your aren't so hard pressed by your sis." Smirking some, Moseme obviously doesn't think the other girl much of a threat either considering.

The offer is tempting - very tempting, especially when she sees the state her bike is in. Rayya's hands flow over the broken control bars and the bent stabilizers, her touch as gentle as if she were treating a favorite pony. Not that she's ever seen a pony in her life, of course, but the point remains the same. Yet when she stands up at last, leaning against the torn seat cushion for support, she's managed to summon up some of her resolve. "I m-manage," Rayya says with conviction she forces herself to feel in her quickly-beating heart. "I - I'm n-not helpless, you know. I can d-do my part." And when those dark eyes meet Mouse's for one of the very few times they dare, the other woman might detect just a hint of wounded pride in the girl's determined features, before she looks down and the moment fades and she assumes once more the role of an urchin from the slums.

"Then show it." Mouse says firmly, moving towards her slowly, round the other side of the bike. "Rayya, you are only as strong as you wish to be…don't be helpless. Come on, I will help you there. Vacated garage and everything, you can work on the bike and i can see what you were carrying, I might have some hookups…" She offers. Her hands worry over the cloth and finally ball it up after finalizing the bandages. "It's up to you, dear." She says again. She seems indifferent either way, "Those back ways will eat you up if you don't get a backbone, girly." She advises, her blue eyes sharp and keen and carrying quite a bit of weight. "But it's up to you how you want to act on this.."

"I don't need charity!" Rayya snaps before she can think better of it, her small hands balling up into little fists. Those dark eyes flash as she steps — backwards. Hanging her head. "I'm s-s-sorry," she mumbles. "B-but I think you should g-go."

Grinning some, but lifting a brow at the outburst, Mouse laughs, "Hey! That's it. You are getting it a bit." She says. She nods her approval. "Now, timing is right. I won't smack you for that, but you get the right person and you are going to need the moves to back up that mouth." She smirks some and leans back against one of the support struts of the garage. "Alright, girly, stop apologizing to me and get this bike moving. We are going." she says and heads for the garage door without looking back or waiting for a reply. Moseme is not staying here.

Rayya doesn't move, watching the woman go from where she stands. Only when she's sure the woman's out of sight does she slump back down to the ground, letting the bacta patches do their thing while one hand reaches underneath the swoop to find the wrenches and screwdrivers kept in a ventral compartment. Slowly, she gets to work - though every so often, when she takes a break, she spares a glance to the stars fading rapidly in the light of the encroaching sun.

"Mistress Rayya does good work," warbles KR-6R from the corner. "Oh dear. Reevaluating. Sorry to say, Mistress Rayya, but it still looks broken. Ow." Gold eyes flash in indignation as it looks at the owner who's just chucked a stray bolt its way, not comprehending why she's suddenly pointing her fingers at him - her thumb and forefinger extended just like a blaster pistol from the holovids she loves to watch.

It's with a shy and self-conscious giggle that Rayya returns to the arduous business of fixing up her bike. "I'm getting it," she murmurs to herself. "Coooool."