apostasy | the mandalorian

thrēē

"Shabuir (asshole)," she mumbled angrily as she walked down the quiet street. Her blood boiled at the very thought of Din Djarin, even more so when she heard his words echoing in her head.

"You've dishonored everything you stood for!"

She would have slapped him if it weren't for that stupid helmet that was concealing his skin from hers. The only thing she could do was get up in his face, maybe make him nervous enough to show some kind of emotion.

But of course, he just stood there.

She had to walk back down the main street, which was now vacant compared to the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd that had greeted her on her way to work. Her ankle was still throbbing from the harsh metal cord Din had used to subdue her, only making the trip back even longer than it already was.

Her cape floated behind her, sending shivers up her back as she limped back to the cantina, minding her surroundings in case Din had circled back around. She wouldn't be surprised; he had beskar to collect after all. Though, she was willing to bet that the shock of seeing her face was enough to send him running.

"Talk about honor...he can't even look at me," she continued to complain to herself, finally reaching the open door to her establishment. There were only a few people left inside after the scuffle, and the man Din had been after was long gone.

She walked in with stiffness to her shoulders, her eyebrows tilted down in a scowl. The few tables housing late-night drinkers were startled by her sudden return, all looking to the doorway as she stormed through it and over to the bar.

"Everybody pay up! I'm closing early!" she barked, hopping behind the counter as she always did and checking that her money basket hadn't been messed with. To her surprise, there seemed to be the same amount, if not more, in the hidden pile.

She looked up, watching the small bunch approach the counter with credits in hand. One of her regulars was in the group, an older woman that was a food vendor on the same street. She gave Evri a sympathetic smile, seeing the mess that was left behind.

"Those kriffin' bounty hunters; the Galaxy is better off without them. Especially those Mandos," she grumbled, setting her pay on the counter with a dull clink and walking off before Evri could respond.

Her eyes softened a bit at the statement, but not for the sake of Mando's wounded ego. She couldn't care less if someone else hated the Mandalorians or what they chose to do for work. In fact, she was comforted by the statement. No -- it was the way she had looked at Evri like she was worth pitying.

If only she knew what she had gone through to get here, she would realize that a little mess and a scuffle with your ex-lover that hadn't seen your face until that day was nothing.

The customers engaged in light chatter as they left through the circle door, its metal center closing shortly after they left. Evri sighed heavily, restricting herself from banging her head on the bar in complete frustration.

"Could this day have been any worse?" Her tongue clung to the top of her mouth from dehydration, and she quickly took a glass from the shelf behind her and filled it with water.

Taking big gulps, she savored the feeling against her throat. Being kicked around in the sand and sat on was certainly enough to get the poor excuse for substrate everywhere. She was going to be coughing up sand for a week.

Setting the now-empty cup on the counter harshly, she swung her legs around the counter once more, stepping over to the table that had been knocked over in the struggle. It was easy enough to set it back up, but the cup the bounty had been drinking from had gotten glass all over the floor.