C. KLINE

unlike so many others who have come before and tried to charm the helmet off of him, candy accepts his terms. she respects it. she backs off. to other patrons of this cantina (and many other travelers around the galaxy), they might see this as a challenge. they might lunge forward, try to drag the beskar from his head. they'd die, of course, in their foolish attempt, but they'd surely try. candy, unlike them, is smart. she's kind. she continues to drink; she's probably under some sort of professional obligation to offer one out to her table guest, not wanting to be rude and drink alone. that's fair. at least when din tells her he can't, she doesn't insist. she just... keeps drinking.

game recognizes game. there were plenty of bounty hunters in this galaxy, plenty of assassins trying to make a buck, but candy cared more about style and grace than money. though true she needed the latter to eventually escape from her contractor, leaving her mark on the universe appealed to candice more. she's aware that she doesn't look threatening, but that's something she uses to her advantage. her sweetness never gets in the way of her true intentions, and she has never missed a mark. it was nice to be recognized for that. there's no hiding the blush that spreads across porcelain cheeks, the woman smiling brightly at the simple compliment din had given her. 'i'm flattered! i was on planet for less than a month. though, i must admit, it was one of my easier targets. unfortunately, he just couldn't run that fast,' chuckle escapes the woman, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as she glances across the mandalorian's mask 'still, it's high praise. coming from you,'

there is something to be said about the bravery of those who stand alone, who combat assumptions, who push back against norms and act on their own merit and own desire when so much is stacked against them. there is a constant air of negativity and death drenching most corners of the galaxy (at least, as far as din has seen), so to see someone so anti-that, so unbelievably shiny in a haven of darkness... it's almost admirable. it shocks din a bit. though candy kline sits, poised in a sullied spot, the dirt and grime that cling to the cantina walls older than both of their ages combined, she is adamant. she is bright. she sticks out like din does, but not in the frightening silent killer sort of way — in the gentle but deadly sort of way. she's unaffected by the rabble around them. she doesn't look. she barely bats an eye. and now... she speaks.

big and scary? anyone else would laugh at such an accusation (and maybe he does, albeit secretly, helmet slightly tilting to the right). instead, he's quiet. he keeps listening. i'm sure there's more to you than that, candy goes on, her voice crowded with assurance. then, a very kind... would you like a drink?

oh, she likes him. candy couldn't help it. despite having said so few words, the way he tilts his helmet slightly towards her allows candice to imagine the expression that may be hiding underneath. maybe a light smirk, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. that's what she likes to think, anyway. there was no harm in imagining what the mandalorian looked like beneath the metal and glass of his headwear. she understands that he's unable to take it off ( candy has done some research on her fellow bounty hunters, and she had admiration for the one sitting across from here ), and so she isn't surprised when he must decline her offer of a drink. unoffended, candy lifts the glass she had previously wrapped her hands around and salutes din in a cheers. 'worth a shot. hopefully you don't mind if i imbibe while i'm at your table,' she downs whatever's left without so much as a flinch before she settles into her seat, smile prominent on her features as she continues to examine the mandalorian.

it's an understood rule of the sordid cantina — don't speak to the masked mandalorian sitting alone near the back. don't approach his table. don't come crawling into his intimidating presence and deal with the agonizing silence of his silent stare. you're not likely to get a response, and you're even less likely to get any movement, any tilt of the head. when din is seated there, elbows on the table, body rigid, weapon at his hip, there's no use approaching. it's pointless. useless. futile.

however, candy kline is far from pointless, and her skills with a weapon are certainly not futile. she's bubbly, buoyant, and brilliant like a solid, steady light in the center of a room of darkness. seated across from the mandalorian without a single care for the understood rules of the cantina, candice speaks up and often, prying through the shadows to dig deep into din's unwavering distance. if there are inferred rules in this bar, she disregards them. she chooses her own path, and for that reason alone... din secretly likes her.

candice kline fears very little in this galaxy ( the man who holds her contract perhaps being at the top of her short list ). what she has never been afraid of was breaking rules, or being under the watchful gaze of those around her. even as eyes snap towards the woman who practically bounces across the bar to its back side, she doesn't flinch. she doesn't pay them any mind. the only person candy has any interest in is the mandalorian, sitting by himself - much as he always is - in the shady corner of the cantina. no one else would dream of approaching. no one else would dare. but candy dares. and she does so with her brightest smile.

unlike the other bounty hunters, candice finds herself trying to enjoy what little this life has to offer. it was not a luxurious job, but it paid well enough, and as a hopeful person, she thought that she may eventually escape from the confines of her contractor's grasps, and find freedom like she's never had, before. until then, she didn't see any use in being dour. unlike some. sitting across from din, she still hasn't figured the man out, and she's sure he'd like to keep it that way. unfortunately for him, candy had every intention of trying her best to understand exactly what made him tick.