A Proposition

[Ariadne Van'Shelaq]

A Proposition

Nar Shaddaa/Midnight//Lapis Cantina

The deep thrum of the synths reverberated into the heavy durasteel panels scaling the walls of the 'Lapis Cantina', sending an eclectic maelstrom of musical notes up the five story building and encasing its gnarled shell in a throbbing chorus of ebullient dancers and muffled conversation. Black and gold neon was messily strewn across the lower floors, the holographic light shows sweeping over the crowd of dancers as the spice and spirits were engulfed in droves. It was a night of excess and hedonism, the obligatory celebration of life on a moon that only knew death. Men, women and aliens of all shapes and sizes crowded the cantina, basking in the inebriated presence of one another as the night drew onwards.

Lapis was safeguarded by the Exchange, a neutral ground for individuals to splurge their hard earned credits, be it from work or work, on any number of vices that were readily available on the five floors of the cantina. General admission was granted to anyone with enough credits at the front gate, two burly Trandoshan bouncers ensuring that anyone too armed, too intoxicated or too 'unfitting' were barred entry and such a rule was accepted as law on Lapis grounds.

With the first floor offering music and dance, the second a grandiose bar stocked with every kind of beverage and the third masquerading as the hub of gambling for the vast quantities of spice being purchased over the variety of counters it was everything one could want on a cantina in Nar Shaddaa. Those three floors were open to anyone willing to climb the stairs of debauchery on offer but any attempt at reaching the fourth floor was strictly permitted to a select few individuals.

Those with ample credits, close connections or reputations were granted access on to the fourth floor, the 'banquet' as it was so enthusiastically titled by the elite few that trawled its chic obsidian interior.

Such a place was where Ariadne resided. The woman, accompanied by several of her men, was comfortably nestled in the furthest corner of the bar with a cigarette precariously balanced between two slender fingers and a holo transmitter placed on the table in front of her. The music from downstairs was a muted beat that struggled to break the thick walls of the private lounge, the muffled chatter of those present in the 'Banquet' sounding over the cool air in its stead. A snarling Barabel chef, renowned for his temper as he was his culinary skills, was located in the center of the lounge gutting a Faa fish with the edge of his cleaver, preparing a meal for the dark haired woman leering at the holo.

Still, with the relative quiet of the lounge on offer Ariadne could hear everything. Every conversation, every heartbeat and every fell swoop of the chef's blade as he scraped the scales off of her meal.

"Did you hear about the recent expedition into One Sith territory?"

Scraaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaaape..

"The Mistress demands recompense for his failings -"

"What actually happened to the Red Ravens?"

Scraaaaaaaape, scraaaaaaaape...

"Who is he, never seen him before...?"

She heard it all and it took several moments for the young woman to retrain her thoughts on the holo flashing in front of her auburn gaze. What point was there wallowing in the pettiness of those around her, she could hear them but she didn't need to listen...not when business swiftly scrolled in glowing text atop her table.

A report had been sent in, a lazy mishmash of stock complaints and mishandled Spice contracts, everything the woman hoped to avoid on a 'night off'. She was still doing work but with the added exclusion of not getting her hands dirty or having to deal with anyone remotely troublesome. It was just herself and the 'Banquet', everything else was a mere distraction.

...or so she thought anyway.

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

A Proposition​

Nar Shaddaa/Midnight/Lapis Cantina

Nar Shaddaa a moon drowning in a sea of Vice and Debauchery, A harlot moon stumbling through orbit and choking on it's own vomit. It was a moon stuffed full of cantinas, most were purely dive bars. Filthy counters and sticky floors were par for the course. There were a few 'premises' that promised something more ... classy. Amongst these was the five story Lapis Cantina, A thudding building that dominated the strip flashes of black and gold neon flashing out of the doors as the opened drawing in the semi-rich and affluent poor alike. That made it the perfect place for Crix to do his ... work.

This particular night club was protected, credits were the only thing that mattered here. That meant Crix could be assured that the people he 'enticed' to unwillingly join his little enterprise. He had already 'convinced' , with the help of a gentle shock prod and some pretty strong brutes. He needed some more classy stock, they always sold better. So he slipped a fist full of credits into the hand of a Trandoshan bouncer and stepped through the door.

Crix flashed his eyes of the assembled rabble of the first floor there were some good targets here, lonely people sitting forlorn in the corner drinking spirits alone, but he could do better. He was the man and he could kidnap anyone he wanted. So he made his way to the bar on the secound floor his eyes drifting over the glistening bottles backing the bar. He shouldn't , one drink always turned to ten and when Crix got drunk he always did bad things. Bad things far worse than slavery, he usually ended up stumbling his way into bed with another. Then his Toby got upset so Crix had to kill the other before Toby could find out. Ah sod it he was out for the night drinking was practically a prerequisite. So he bought himself a double measure of Whiskey.

His head was very quickly swimming. Was Crix a lightweight ? Yes, yes he was. Whilst he drank he scanned over the occupants of this floor, too many pairs people would miss these people quickly he didn't so much care if people figured him out after a night or so but he'd have at most an hour if he went after one of these people so again he moved on.

The third floor was filled with spice addled men and women. These showed more promise but non of them were ready yet. He needed them to stew on their intoxicants for a while. So he advanced up the next set of stairs to the exclusive floor. Crix was not wearing his new crown today, Nar Shaddaa was not renowned for it's respect of property rights so he'd left the Crown of Isis at home, on Toby. He was wearing a signet ring that had, he was told, once belong to the now headless Kallisto family patriarch. That should be enough to mark him as a royal. If not he always had money. Thus by hook or by crook he made it into the private lounge.

The lounge was a welcome escape from the thudding downstairs. The room was quite enough that he could hear himself think, that was nice . He have even audibly sighed. He stepped into the room proper glancing over it's occupants. Boring rich people , an angry looking chef and another a woman. She looked familiar but Crix didn't know why. Had he slept beside her? done Business with her ? sold slaves to her? He didn't know Maybe he didn't know her at all, had he seen her sold? No shorly no ex-slave could achieve so much.

Who ever this woman was, she seemed an excellent way to waste time whilst he waited for the people downstairs to become intoxicated. Talking of intoxicated some one had drank of of Crix's drink, was nothing sacred?

He'd just have to buy another. Fresh drink in hand he sat down across from the woman and turned off her transmitter "Boring" He yawned in an exaggerated fashion "You should talk to me instead ... I'm witty and charming" He flashed a smile and took a drink.

Everyone loved a bad boy and Crix was like the Apollo of Bad boys

[member="Ariadne Van'Shelaq"]

 

[Ariadne Van'Shelaq]

Ariadne was a woman who reveled in her anonymity, a figure in the Undercity who much preferred the comfort of urban legends and fables to do her job than overt publicity stunts praising her deeds and misdeeds. Settled on the fourth floor, 'Zen' could have easily melted into the present crowd. To any curious bystander she was just another spoiled socialite or a gangster's mistress, a woman whose throng of bodyguards were there to protect her rather than empower her. It was enjoyable, remaining relatively unknown to the large populace crowding the Undercity and the young woman was sure that anyone who did know her real identity as the Baroness of the butcher's district was either dead or closely monitored. Was it paranoia? Maybe, but the half Firrerreon thought it more as a code of privacy.

Know her personally and you were in the minority.

It was this understanding that shed any doubts on Ariadne's part, no one would bother her unless they thought a glare and a wrinkle of her nose would suffice for conversation, let alone be subjected to the perpetual glares painted on her men's faces. Nar Shaddaa was not a nice place and even on neutral grounds no one would act out on impulse in the presence of the upper echelons of the corrupted society. No one needed to deal with strange women and their strange troupe of thugs if there were drug fueled orgies happening on the floors below, much more fulfilling in Ariadne's opinion, and an entire array of living morsels waiting for another's attention.

Alas, whilst the carnivorous woman's air of prickliness and her little quartet of Chistori bodyguards would have repelled the vast majority of curious individuals it did not stop the obnoxious advance of a very underwhelming looking human.

Ariadne heard his heartbeat long before he fell into her peripherals, the ebullient flutter of his organ following the muted bass of the music on the floors below. He smelt like a foreigner and his facade of confident swagger was enough to raise more than just one eyebrow in the room, if he wanted attention then he was getting ample tastes of it from a whole manner of unpleasant folk. With a manicured hand gracing the hilt of her blade, shrouded beneath the table, Ariadne's face instantly snapped forward the moment her visitor touched the holo. He looked oddly familiar, but then again...he was still taking a risk doing what he just did regardless of whether there was some connection.

Bravery or stupidity? Definitely the latter.

"What is this?" She uttered bluntly, offering the newcomer a blank stare before flickering her gaze to R'zzark'ka, the nearest Chistori guard. The grey skinned saurian held back a low growl before flaring his nostrils, a look of embarrassment if his species was to have any. Clenching her jaw, the dark haired female leered at the man, wrinkling her nose at his attempt at charm before turning the little transmitter back on, illuminating the space between then in a dull blue glow.

"He...well he didn-"

"No, stop talking. At least pat him down if you think your job is a joke." Ariadne sternly ordered the R'zzark'ka with a tilt of her head, offering the creature a particularly venomous glare before snarling at the would-be bachelor. "You should leave me, I'm - actually, you should just leave me." The young woman retorted coldly, mirroring the man's cringe worthy grin with her own razor teethed smirk, a predatory gesture that let the odd fellow consider his options.

She ate bad boys for dinner.

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

Crix was not a man who thought before he acted. He decided he wanted to do somthing and before his brain could iron out the consequences he was already acting. So yes perhaps it was a measure of stupidity that brought him first to sit at the table of [member="Ariadne Van'Shelaq"] and secound to antagonise the woman.

Drunk Crix was even worse than normal crix, sometimes drunk crix did things that he did not even want to do, he did things just because he could ... things like turning Holo Communicators off. In truth Crix would have had no idea who Ariadne was , drunk or sober and in his tipsy state he didn't notice her icy demeanor. All Crix saw through slightly bleary eyes was a woman who was clearly wealthy and important ... Crix enjoyed talking with wealthy and important people. He like making friends with wealthy and important people and most of all he liked to misbehave with wealthy and important people. That said Adriadne did not look the type to be up for misbehavior.

As for the attention of the other clientele, that didn't bother him. Crix liked to think he was handsome and important. Why shouldn't they look it was not as if he looked poor, his clothes were cut from the dresses an attire of Isis's now deposed royal family. Crix was a king now, let them look . Crix reveled in attention.

As the woman shot him a glare crix just smiled. He saw a breif glint in her eye suggesting she recognised him. As stated he had no idea who she was , she just looked fun. Then wordlessly she flicked the holo back on. Prompting a childish moan from crix. He just wanted to talk. Why wouldn't the woman want to talk to him he was great? This question confused crix and after several moments of thought crix's drink addled mind decided , she did want to talk to him and the holo was only there to cover her shyness. As a measure of respect to the woman crix didn't mention that he'd figured this out. Crix's Toby was shy so he knew what it was like.

Poor woman must have been so embarrassed he thought.

He was made aware of the embarrassed guards wish to search him by a rough grip on his shoulder, with a smile he shakily got to his feet rocking a little and leaning on the table for support as the guard
began to frisk him.

"Careful I'm excitable " He chuckled

The guard would find little more than money and a hologram of Toby in Crix's pockets. No weapons, No spice, no danger. He was just a drunk ponce with a lot of money and a brand new crown.

Then he sat back down smirking again at this woman's glare. A sober crix would have left at that point, noticing that the woman clearly had no desire to talk with him. Of course Crix was very drunk and his incapacitated mind could not grasp that simple truth. She told him he should leave her but he didn't listen. Listening was not drunk Crix's job.

"I'm not much good at doing as I should " He smirked back, trying his damnedest to sound sober "I'm Crix Meriet by the way"