PJ's, Interrupted

Shuttles come and go, and one brought Franceza here, not all that long ago. She just finishes the paperwork with the night clerk at the terminal, but already she's regretting not having thought about a decent set of clothes, the grey shorts by far  not enough to keep out the nightly chill. She did pull a sweater over her head, but the goosebumps on her legs still speak volumes. Maybe this is why the woman is ill at ease, keeping her luggage close, the Demarians at a distance where she can.

Another shuttle arrives in short order, Demaria quite the hub of activity tonight, it looks like. Off steps a Martian, mingled within a small crowd of majorly Sivadians. Curiously, Tia's wearing her PJ's, a pair of combat boots offsetting the pink flannel pants and the pink polar fleece with knit detailing. A white tanktop is beneath the fleece, the girl's arms crossed over her stomach. It doesn't take her long to get through with the paperwork, the newly arrived evidently familiar to more than one or two Demarians. With a small yawn, politely stifled by a hand, she shuffles further out onto the landing pad.

Does she get funny looks? Well, at least Franceza is openly staring. At first with some relief to see another unwhiskered head, then with rising humour. She retrieves her documents, then hurries after the woman, "Hey, wait up!" The worker boots land solidly on the ground each step, "Hey, ain't you forgotten something?"

There's a pause, and slowly Tia turns to face the one urging her to halt. The Martian blinks, eyes wandering up and down the unfamiliar woman's form, soon coming up to rest securely on Fran's features, "Huh?" Her brow knits together slightly, "Forgetting what?"

Soft chuckles as Frank waves a vague hand towards her attire. With a fair amount of relief in her alto, she grins, "You're still wearing PJ's honey. You sure that's what you meant to be doing?"

Tiana shrugs lightly, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptively, "They're comfortable." And odd looking with combat boots. A mild tensity ripples through the Martian's shoulders, gone in no more than a few scant seconds, "'Sides, I ain't stayin' all  night, ain't no point in gettin' dressed in clean clothes if i'm jus' gonna go home and go to bed anyway."

"Alright alright," Franceza lift her hands defensively, "Just checking." After a second, a mild frown starts, "You live here?"

Tiana shakes her head lightly, "Used ta. I jus' meant I ain't stayin' on Demaria long." The frown is noted and a brow is raised in response to it, "You afraid of Demarians?"

Sinopa has arrived. Sinopa disembarks from the LDF Faux.

Franceza huffs, "Hell no," she lies through her teeth, "But wouldn't live here for the world." She glances around, on guard, "Where were you off to, maybe it's better to not walk alone? I mean... PJ's. Know they're not Timonae scum, but you might  just be putting ideas into one cat's head and you'd be in enough trouble."

It's at that moment that the airlock to the Faux cycles open and a young Qua steps out, a big grin on her face. She runs straight to Tia, which suggests she had seen the girl from the bridge. "You get around," she says as she approaches her. With that she looks to the other woman, "How ye doin'?" she asks brightly.

Tiana snorts derisively, her eyes narrowing further and her arms tightening around her torso, "Timonae -aren't- scum." The girl says pointedly, her chin canting up with a bit of attitude, "And I would be fine by myself, thank you. Even in PJ's." She smirks, "The Battleclaw happens to be my friend." Another snort follows before she looks to Sinopa, offering a tense smile.

"Battleclaw..." Franceza repeats, clueless. She shakes her head, scratches at the singed hair on the left, "Girl, you been drinkin'?"

Sinopa looks between the two. "Silvereye is awesome," she says, "You just gotta meet him. He's the battleclaw, the military leader of Demaria," she explains to Fran. Then looking back to Tia, "Somebody said that Timonae are scum?" she asks confused.

"She did." Tia says, indicating Fran with a small jerk of her head. The Martian, while normally quite friendly and cordial, doesn't appear so right now -at all-, narrowed eyes returning to Franceza with a bit of a glare, "I don't drink." Again the words a pointed and clipped, her nose wrinkling with distaste.

Starting to get a little annoyed, Franceza spits in the dirt, a spot where nobody's standing, mind. "Not like I'm tellin' nothin' new," she mutters, looking from one to the other. A smirk starts, "What, don't tell me you -like- 'em?! They're good for taking money from, but everyone knows they'll rob you blind given half a chance."

Sinopa blinks at Fran, "I never been robbed by one," she says, "Whattcha talkin' about?" turning to Tia she tilts her head, "You gonna be alright?" she asks concerned.

The line of her jaw tightens, teeth clenched together tightly. Tia's angry. Tia's -never- angry. Leaving Sinopa's question hanging, the Martian takes a singular step forward, "You base, ignorant bloody woman." Her voice's low, almost cold, "How -dare- you."

Some muscle twitches in Franceza's jaw, all humour leaving her eyes. Lips don't look too happy either, though a corner still lifts. She meets Tiana's gaze head on, "It's quite easy," she tells her. "At least I don't risk some funky disease sleeping with an alien."

Sinopa just backs up, "Dear spirits, don't kill each other, please," she states.

"You just wallow in ignorance, blinded by your own stupididty and archaic concepts propigated by fear." Tiana spits venemously, looking about ready to strike. The Martian is trembling with anger, fingers curling around bits of her fleece so tightly the knuckles were beginning to pale, "That's so pathetic."

Did Tiana expect to be laughed at? Cause frankly that's what's about to happen, the first snicker already passes Franceza's lips. The sound though, is far from pleasant. "What, swallowed a righteous dictionary honey?"

Sinopa looks between the two worriedly and goes to Tia taking the girls hand in her own and whispers in the girls ear. Sinopa whispers: She ain't worth it. She's just tryin' to get to ye.

Unfortunately, Sinopa's attempts, however quiet, to diffuse the situation come a bit too late, all the stress of the past week, and now this, coming to a head. The Qua is pulled away from quickly, and just as swiftly, without warning, a strike is thrown for Fran. Back hand to the face!

Did she see it coming? Maybe, but with holding her weekend bag in her arms, Franceza doesn't have the speed needed to dodge the slap and the hand impacts with her cheek even as she leans back. For a second, there is disbelief, then she counters, "You little bitch," throwing the bag at Tiana, following after herself, a fist aiming for the other's face to repay the  favour. Bar-style.

Sinopa backs up and places her hand on her stun gun not pulling it yet, but ready just in case as she watches the two.

Well that didn't pan out for Fran at all. Tia smirks, easily side-stepping the attack and going so far as to give the other woman a shove to throw her off balance. Without much delay, a kick is snapped out, the hardened toe of her boot careening right for Fran's mid-back.

"Vada via in culo!" Franks shouts in surprise, "You little twit, yo-" She looks over her shoulder and sees the kick coming, "'Fancu-" She doesn't have time to dodge, but twists to take the kick in her side instead, it sending her back a few paces,  grimacing, needing a moment just to breathe. The woman tries to laugh, only partly succeeds, "And I thought I fought unfair," she grunts.

Sinopa continues to watch, her hand on the gun pulls it from it's holster, but doesn't power it up or click the safety off yet. Her eyes never leave the fight the whole time as she waits to see what Tiana will do.

Tiana snorts, her lips curling slightly as she hears without understanding the italian spoken. It doesn't faze her though, nor does Fran's lack of breath stop Tia from pushing in to throw a balled fist at the other woman's stomach.

Knowing what to expect now, Franceza lets her come close, sidesteps at the very last moment, aiming to give Tiana a rough push against the shoulders to hopefully send her barrelling away. She snarls at Sinopa, "Get the little bitch inline. Before she gets hurt."

Sinopa shakes her head, "A fair fights a fair fight, lady. I'm just here to make sure it stays a fair fight," she states. "You insulted her man, I ain't stoppin' her."

Tiana just steps out of the way again, her smirk growing wider, "Pfft." She snorts, though nothing further is added. Having kept their proximity close, Tia quickly closes the gap, a punch thrown for Fran's side. Not the kidneys!

"Fair fight?" Franceza sputters to Sinopa, "There's nothing fair abo-" Having her attention away from Tiana was obviously not the thing to do. Franceza doubles over, cluthcing her side, "That was... Ow!" In frustration, she aims a kick at Tiana's legs.

Sinopa smirks, "One on one seems fair to me," she says simply as she checks her gun. "Like I said, ye insulted her man."

Another easy dodge, the Martian just shaking her head lightly as she steps aside and delivers a -wail- to the side of Fran's head. A deft twist follows that puts Tia right in front of the other woman, a fist hurtling for her gut.

Is Frank even trying? Maybe that one punch in the side took the momentum out of her. And the blast to the head ain't helping either, giving Tiana free range to punch her stomach again. But the engineer can't muster the frustration she needs to counteract. A little dazed, she falls the small distance to the ground, butt first. "Had enough," she spits, sneering. "You're no different then any of 'em."

"Tia, don't kill the woman," the Qua says with a smirk, "Kickin' her while she's down'd be fightin' dirty."

"Why? Because i'm not a xenophobic twit?" Tia asks, seemingly rhetorically, a shake of her head given as she crosses her arms over her chest, "I'm -glad- i'm 'just like the others' if it means i'm not like you." She turns pointedly on a heel, marching over to Sinopa, "I wouldn't kill her even if she deserved it." Is the reassurance that's given the Qua as a stance is taken beside the younger woman.

Franceza takes the time to finger the cheek she was slapped at first, the side of her head. Methodically, part for part. She finds no evidence but the pain that will probably result in some bruises later on. Carefully, she rises, spits again in the dirt. Still in no hurry, wipes the hair back, dusts off her shorts, breathes deep, making herself look taller. The thin set of her lips shows her pain though. "At least your language is improving," she snorts at Tiana. "Before too long we'll have you talking like a real person." Sneering, she picks up her bag and turns, probably to go where she was headed initially.