Private A Sort of Absolute Primogeniture

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

Riven was led through what could be the most prominent building within Jutrand's nobler districts, a route she was often led upon as she followed the guards and servants that'd show her the way more out of courtesy than anything at this point. The short Elf was still garbed in her usual work attire; a dark hood over her head and a black feathery cloak wrapped warmly around her person. Around her neck were clasped two yellow robotic arms that ended in claws that gripped one another, and over her shoulder peeked the tail of the droid those claws belonged to, the main optical scanner ever alert as it was carried like a backpack upon its master. Riven hadn't brought the durasteel case she was often seen with for it was stored elsewhere safely, but neither would she ever bring any weapons into a place such as this; for security was a guarantee.

Finally she was led to the penthouse apartment that was her destination, a servant opening the doors to allow her inside. Once inside the modern and large apartment Riven's eyes couldn't help but glance to all the fineries the room was always decorated with, sleek and with no expense spared, truly a place befitting royalty. She descended steps as she followed after the servant and was led into another room, one with a large couch and a stunning open view of the rest of Jutrand, the tower was high above the rest as it offered a clear wide vista of the city below.

The servant gestured for the elf to wait and in response Riven gave a light nod as she was left by herself. The silence crept in as she gazed out over the city before she heard a few pitched beeps and whirrs from her personal droid Pincer. Red eyes glanced over her shoulder towards the large optic scanner at the end of the droid's tail that stared back at her and she offered a light nod in response. "... Sure... But don't mess with anything this time..." commented Riven gently as she reached a hand to grip Pincer's tail as its claws released so that she could pull it off her back and lower it towards the ground. Pincer offered a couple more beeps before it started to slowly explore the room while its master pulled out a cigarette, slipping it between soft lips as she lit it and then hid her hands beneath her cloak once more, exhaling a gentle breath of smoke.

Riven's crimson gaze stayed on Pincer for just a moment before she turned to put her back to the window and await the owner of the penthouse apartment, her body entirely concealed with her feathered robe, like a crow on a perch. Both the cigarette and the hood over her head helped her nerves, but if this was anything like it usually was she knew that hood wouldn't be on for long.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:
//: Attire //:

Quinn was in her room, on a small circular dais that rotated when she wanted it to in front of several mirrors. She was wearing a dress whose black, silken fabric looked as if it had been painted on her body. Her eyes examined the dress, feeling its motion through her fingers.

"I don't like it."

She announced, and someone wandered in to help her change. Today has not been successful; nothing looked right, nothing felt right. Sighing softly, she helped the handmaiden who had come in to assist. The woman apologized, and Quinn shrugged, "It's okay, sometimes days like this happen." Her lips pouted. The dresses were beautiful, but eh.

Slipping into the black and gold accented robe, she tied the thick belt around her waist. It was at this moment that one of her guards entered and announced Riven's arrival. Looking to the clock, Quinn raised an eyebrow — they weren't supposed to meet for another twenty minutes.

Despite the earliness, Quinn accepted it as the Assassin was just that good at her job.

"She's waiting in the usual place?" Quinn questioned as she reapplied the red lipstick and ran her hands through her platinum hair. The guard nodded, and she smiled at him through the mirror's reflection. "Thank you."

Quinn pulled up the length of the robe and headed towards the stairs that led to the meeting room. She traversed the stairs with an elegance all her own. The robe, not her typical chosen attire for meetings like this — she was already fed up with everything that had to do with her closet.

Walking up behind the Elf, she reached up and pulled the tip of the hood. She dragged it down and continued to move past the woman. "You know the rules," she playfully scolded.

Quinn sighed to exaggerate the trouble it had taken to remove the small elf's hood — only to smile when she sat on the long couch, her legs crossing and her resting in her lap. Tilting her head, she smirked.

"You're pretty early this time," She started, a hand reaching up to adjust the lapel of her plunging neckline of her robe. "Was the job too easy? Or are you just good?"

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

The short elf heard Quinn arriving and anticipated that her hood was about to be pulled down, and that's exactly what happened as a head of silver hair shined in the absence of the hood, cascading down the black feathers of her cloak and contrasting against it. A puff of smoke came from Riven's breath before she turned to regard Quinn with a light bow of her head, not appearing overly bothered that she had pulled her hood down. It was as she said after all, she knew the rules and should've known better.

Crimson eyes followed her as she took a seat while the elf remained standing, though as was typical of Riven she never met that gaze, only instead noting the adjustment of the lapel.

"Was the job too easy? Or are you just good?"

Riven paused as her gaze shifted up to whatever manner of clock was available in the room. "... I thought I was late..." she muttered softly as she lightly chewed on the butt of the cigarette in her mouth; another puff of smoke exhaled through her nose this time. She took a moment to search for something on her person as concealed arms shifted beneath her feathered cloak before a pale hand was pulled from behind them. She stepped forward and placed a green kyber crystal upon the table just besides Quinn with a light clink of crystal against glass.

"... It went fine..." she spoke gently as that hand of hers retreated back beneath her cloak. Red eyes regarded Quinn in an unfocused manner, never quite meeting her face as they instead just aimlessly observed her form as she spoke. "... Disabled the convoy first... When he came outside he almost looked right at me..." she began before her eyes briefly peered to her droid Pincer who continued to slowly scuttle about the room, its optical scanner taking an interest in pretty much anything technological. "... The weather was good... Second shot was easy... Another that relied too much on the Force..." she answered as she turned back to Quinn.

Being something of a dead void of space within the Force itself made Riven exceptionally difficult for Jedi and Sith alike to anticipate, her bullets typically meeting their targets before they could react, and if they tried to parry the bullet itself? Superheated into molten slag travelling at three thousands miles an hour as it passed through their lightsaber and straight into their face.

The elf stood awkwardly for a moment as she shuffled on the spot, another puff of smoke was exhaled from the cigarette between her lips. Her nerves ever getting the better of her, even with people she was relatively used to talking to.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:
//: Attire //:

Quinn listened; the events were glossed over, and while she appreciated it, the Assassin didn't need to worry about the Princess. The crystal, one from the lightsaber of a Jedi, was set down, and Quinn picked it up. She could still feel the life of the Jedi humming inside of it. It was always interesting to know that what would be left of any Force user would be their silly little crystal swords. Setting it back down, she'd deal with it later.

Her eyes focused on the woman in front of her, the way she moved — nervous, yet bled confidence when it was about the mission details. The corner of Quinn's lip curled slightly as she continued to read the subtle body language. Riven liked to chew the end of the cigarette, terrible for her teeth, but Quinn could understand why. The filter was soft, distracting, something that could ease her through the end of the conversation.

To think, the woman before her was an assassin, skilled and efficient, and was nervous being in front of her and perhaps others. Quinn knew she'd have to one day observe her in a crowd. Though the nerves also made her a good asset.

She wouldn't tell any secrets she overheard.

"Sounds like it went more than fine," she finally said, her tone lazy, as though she had all the time in the world. Her eyes lingered, trying to catch every flicker of crimson that dared look her way. It was almost cute, watching Riven avoid holding her gaze for too long.

But Quinn grew tired of watching from a distance. She rose, hands adjusting the robes as she moved. Quinn didn't stop until she stood directly before the Assassin. Slender fingers plucked the cigarette from her lips, while her other hand tilted the Elf's chin up, forcing her to meet those hazel eyes.

Quinn's red lipstick stained the filter as she drew a slow pull. She held it in long enough to enjoy the intimate distance they were sharing. Then the Princess exhaled with a smile, tugging her mouth. She slipped the cigarette back between Riven's lips, her hand brushing the curve of her jaw in the process.

"You really should offer to share," she teased lightly.

She stepped back, but her playful gaze never wavered. "Is it really so hard to look at me? I was starting to think I'd lost my charm." Her lips pouted teasingly, before she let it break into a soft laugh.

The smoke still hung in the air when Quinn tilted her head, tone shifting smoothly back into business. "So," she asked, her smile lingering, "did they give you anything useful before the end? Names? Allies?" Her eyes drifted toward the crystal, then back to Riven.

"Imagine that… a Jedi tangled up with backwater thieves."

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

Riven could feel Quinn's gaze upon her, scrutinizing her every move. It only seemed to make the elf more nervous as the cigarette in her mouth twitched; she was chewing it again. Her crimson gaze averted when she saw her stand up and make her way towards her, moving into her space until there was nothing left to look at. In such a situation those red eyes seemed to be, rather unintentionally, on the chest of the Princess.

That was at least until the cigarette was snatched from her lips and the hand beneath her chin tilted her to look up at the Varanin. Riven was considerably short but ever did she look so innocent and small when she was looking up at someone with eyes that tried to turn away, always looking like she had done something wrong. But she knew what Quinn was doing, knew that she wanted her to look at her, and so she steeled her nerves and tried to focus upon her hazel stare.

She watched as the cigarette between her painted lips lit an amber glow as the smoke was inhaled and then breathed out over her face. Riven didn't flinch at the smoke or make any kind of look that'd convey annoyance, she was fine with it. There was a light tint of pink to the assassin's pale cheeks as Quinn's hand tugged at her lips so that she could press the cigarette, now stained with red, back between them. The elf's lips closed on the filter before the head of the cigarette lit and a breath of smoke was exhaled against the Princess instead, though not in much of a display, she just couldn't breathe it out anywhere else.

The hand brushing against her jaw caused her eyes to try and glance away in a light fluster for a moment before they returned to meet Quinn's. The Princess was really toying with the assassin as she let out a light sound of awkward discomfort though made no attempt to move away. Despite her awkwardness she felt somewhat content at the touch, the attention given. She simply didn't know how to respond very well to it but she did enjoy it.

"You really should offer to share,"

"... Do you want to share...?" offered Riven after the fact as if it would somehow mend her blunder of not asking earlier. When the Princess stepped back Riven's gaze diverted again towards the window, another puff of smoke leaving her mouth as that cigarette was burnt lower; almost to the filter at this point.

"Is it really so hard to look at me? I was starting to think I'd lost my charm."

Riven paused before responding, it was something she felt she had to explain rather often. "... It's not you... I just... find it difficult..." she commented before her crimson gaze managed to glance back towards the Princess, "It's... Even the same with her too..." she added. Truly the short elf just had that much difficulty in meeting people's eyes with her own.

When the conversation shifted back towards business Riven's shoulders seemed to slump slightly as if they had been tensed. She gave a light shake of her head in response, "Nothing... My rifle is designed to pierce vehicles and buildings... When he took the bullet it tore off most of the left side of his upper body..." she began, her voice ever more confident when talking about her work. "... By the time I finished off his entourage... He bled out..." she said as if it wasn't obvious that such a wound probably immediately killed him.

Her head dipped slightly as she frowned, the cigarette burning bright for a final time until it was burnt down to the filter, but she kept it in her mouth even then. "... Sorry..." she apologized with a breath of smoke.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:
//: Attire //:

"I'm okay," she answered Riven's question about sharing. She had already had her fill of the Elf's cigarette, but she didn't want to miss an opportunity to tease.

"Unless you're going to light another," her lips curved, eyes glinting, "I wouldn't mind making it taste better." A soft wrinkle of her nose with a grin followed — playful and suggestive. It left just enough room for Riven to squirm. The assassin always gave her these little openings, and Quinn delighted in taking them.

Riven expressed her concerns about maintaining eye contact. The revelation made Quinn's features soften slightly. A part of her felt guilty about her teasing, but it seemed to not bother Riven for the most part. Either she was okay with it or too passive to argue against it. She bit her lower lip as she decided to ease off for a little while, but not all the way.

The moment Riven mentioned 'her', Quinn felt a bit of ease along with a little flare in her chest. While Riven was 'technically' hers to use on retainment by permission, she didn't want to be reminded who Riven's real boss was. Her once-soft features hardened slightly, showing a twinge of annoyance.

"You know you're not supposed to mention her," Quinn sighed as she fell back onto the couch, her arms reaching back and her head looking up in a dramatic exaggeration.

"I hate being reminded that you work for her and not really for me." A little whine, but nothing that carried on too far. It wasn't fair. Quinn had assumed she had been Riven's first contact, but of course, she was beaten out by someone else.

Shrugging it off, Quinn looked back towards Riven. Stress clung to her shoulders, and Quinn sighed, her hand now resting against her cheek as she leaned on the back of the couch.

"You did well on your mission, even if you didn't get any added information." She shrugged, her eyes looking away towards the large window for a moment.

"You were hired for your skills; the other things I asked were just in case. Sometimes people like to give all their secrets, their truths, when they are facing death." Something felt hidden behind those words as she let her mind wander for a moment.

But it didn't take long for her attention to snap back to Riven. From the corner of her eye, she stared.

"Remove your cloak, take a seat, and light another cigarette — at least relax. You did a good job." Pausing, Quinn patted the space next to her.

"If you can muster up the courage, we can really share one of your indulgences."

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

As the teasing words continued the pale elf glanced aside, flustered once more by Quinn's words as she finally took what was left of the cigarette out from her mouth. With a light flick the filter was expertly tossed into an ashtray on the table. Riven's aim wasn't just good with a rifle, she had an uncanny talent for it in many different circumstances.

But indeed she wasn't all that bothered about explaining her social anxiety, she had gotten more than used to it herself, it was just a part of how she lived and she'd made her peace with it. Though she still hadn't learnt not to mention her benefactor around the Princess... Red eyes darted back towards Quinn at the understanding of her blunder before she lowered her head in light apology. "... Does it matter that much...?" she asked cautiously. She worked for Quinn when it suited the need and desire of the Princess, and Riven was never one to complain about it. She couldn't understand why exactly it bothered her so much, that sense of 'ownership' in a fashion perhaps.

"Sometimes people like to give all their secrets, their truths, when they are facing death."

At this the short elf paused in thought as she regarded Quinn who appeared to so leisurely rest in her seat. "... Would you...?" she asked idly as she followed her gaze towards the window for a moment. But then she felt the hazel eyes of the Princess upon her once more and her words were heard clearly. A knot of anxiety tightened within Riven's chest as she offered a light nod in response, her hands appearing from beneath her feathered cloak to remove it from her shoulders and place it aside.

The assassin without her cloak looked a lot smaller as the shape of her form was unveiled; always wearing tight dark clothing of leather and straps that clung close to her body. The cloak was just another barrier for her; not just for the elements but also people, it was something she could hide herself away in but in situations like this with Quinn? There was little hope hiding from her.

Her crimson eyes settled on the seat that the Princess gestured towards as the short elf dipped her head slightly and approached, taking a seat right besides the other woman. She reached into her pocket as she pulled a fresh cigarette from the box that was within and offered it to the Princess. Once she had taken it the elf would bring a lighter up to ignite it for her, a careful and practiced little ceremony she had done more than once at this point. "...Thank you..." she commented at the praise with another gentle nod of her head. Her crimson gaze turned to fixate ahead at the table in front of her while she remained sat upright on the couch, she was still barely relaxing at all, and the last comment from the Princess only seemed to make her more nervous...

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:
//: Attire //:

Quinn was quiet after her last demand, letting the silence stretch. Riven's questions lingered in her mind. Was she being ridiculous in her jealousy over the woman's real boss? And would she herself have confessed her secrets if she had been staring death in the face?

The thoughts pressed harder than she wanted to admit. For once, she wondered if Riven only saw her as a spoiled princess who paid well. The idea pulled a faint crease to her brow — the day had not been kind to her mood.

Still, the assassin obeyed. She sat down beside Quinn and offered her a cigarette. Quinn accepted without hesitation, waiting as Riven lit it for her. She drew in two short puffs and exhaled the smoke away from Riven's face this time.

Her eyes lingered on the Elf when she took her seat. Riven looked different like this — smaller, softer — not the sharp, unflinching assassin she usually showed the world. Quinn tilted her head slightly, studying her with quiet satisfaction.

"I think I like you like this better," Quinn said, her voice smooth, her smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She leaned in just enough for her shoulder to brush Riven's. "When you're not hiding."

She tapped ash lightly from the cigarette before offering it back, her fingers brushing deliberately against Riven's. "Careful," she teased, hazel eyes fixed on her. "You keep showing me more of yourself, I might get greedy." The Princess smiled and pulled away slightly. She knew better than to push more than she should.

A soft, slight hum echoed in her throat as she looked towards the wide window.

"It is bad, but it isn't," she said softly, circling back to the woman who truly employed the Elf. "It's just… annoying. I hate being reminded how much better she is."

Her body shifted, leaning slightly closer to Riven again. Hazel eyes studied her with quiet curiosity. Unlike anyone else, Quinn couldn't read her. No threads of the Force. No emotions rippling at the edges of her awareness. Just silence. Riven was an anomaly — and that made her all the more fascinating. With her, Quinn could be still.

Her hand rose almost absentmindedly, fingertips brushing the warm skin at the base of Riven's neck. She pressed lightly, then squeezed and released, thumb tracing a slow circle to ease the tension she found knotted there.

"You should really relax," she murmured, her tone soft but threaded with teasing in its cadence. "You're not working now. The business is done. You can actually enjoy my company for once."

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

Riven sat awkwardly, basically at the edge of the seat itself as Quinn's words caused her to glance towards her through the corner of her eye. She didn't move as the Varanin leaned forward to brush her shoulder against hers. "... It's just... warm..." she explained, not really stating the truth that she felt hidden with that cloak of hers on. "Get's a little cold without it..." she nodded softly in response. As the cigarette was offered back to her the short elf accepted it, glancing briefly to the red painted marks left by Quinn's lips on the filter before she placed it between her own and drew in a breath. With an exhale she calmed more as the smoke lingered in the air.

"Greedy...?" Riven asked as she looked to the cigarette between her pale fingers once more, "... Like... Less pay...?" she asked with uncertainty; how awful this girl was in picking up teasing remarks... She placed the cigarette between her lips once more for another pull of smoke. After this one she glanced back at the Princess and offered it to her once more.

A pause was given as she listened to the Princess speak of her benefactor, her own crimson gaze dipped lightly. She cherished that person greatly, but that didn't mean she didn't also enjoy the company of others, or at least as much as she was capable of enjoying them... "... I don't think she's better..." came soft spoken words, "Just... different...". In her thoughts her benefactor and Quinn were two very separate individuals, perhaps something the Princess would've appreciated if she explained it further, but she didn't.

When she felt Quinn's fingers at the back of her neck her form tensed briefly but as those digits pressed firm upon pale skin the short woman seemed to relax more, the Princess could feel as much as she gently pushed back into the hand behind her. Crimson eyes slowly closed in comfort as the circling motion began and she exhaled a gentle sigh. If there was anything Riven was particularly vulnerable to it was the attention of comfort, sometimes it almost seemed like the only thing that could truly put her into a placated state. She'd never admit such with her voice but her body often betrayed this fact.

"... I'm... Trying..." she muttered gently, even her voice seemed more subdued as the ministrations continued. The short elf was certainly a curious thing; distant and cold in both social and combat encounters, precise in her decisions and rarely second-guessing her actions. But when someone deigned to just give her a little soft attention? To display care and comfort? It almost entirely undid her, a weakness that was easy to exploit but one she was thankful very few people knew of.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:

Quinn chuckled softly, amused at how the dangerous assassin melted at the first brush of tender touch along her neck. The contrast was striking — the cold, efficient professional who had walked into the room, now unraveling into something softer at Quinn's side. A mental note lingered in the Princess's mind, sharp as a blade: did her true benefactor ever bother to give her this kind of attention?

The thought sparked a flare of jealousy in her chest, but she smothered it quickly — or at least pretended to.

"No, not less pay…" Quinn murmured with a sly curl of her lips. "If anything, maybe more pay."

Her fingers shifted, pressure softening into a featherlight caress before pressing once again into the tense muscle. "Of course, I'd demand more of your attention in return. Invent more missions, more reasons to keep you busy… more excuses to have you reporting directly to me." The Princess tilted her head, as though she were gauging just how far the little assassin might bend under this kind of touch.

Her hand slid higher, fingers threading through the ashen strands of Riven's hair. Light scratches from her nails traced across the scalp, coaxing rather than forcing.

"I can turn up the heat, if you like," Quinn offered. "Jutrand is always so cold in the evenings." She knew that cold well — Eshan's winters had their bite, but Jutrand's chill was different, endless, and bone-deep. She hated it, but it was home.

"You're doing well," she added, her voice soft, praising quietly, meant only for the assassin's ears. She leaned closer, lips almost brushing Riven's temple as her hand combed through pale hair. "It's nice to see you not so stiff. Hopefully, you'll learn to feel as comfortable around me… as you do with your other boss."

The venom was there. Quinn let it slip on accident. She hoped Riven wouldn't notice, too distracted by the head scratches, enjoying the warmth of her touch.

"So tell me…" Her nails traced the length of Riven's scalp slowly, coaxing each word out.

"Out of so many she could have chosen… why you?" Hazel eyes lingered, sharp and curious. "I know your skill. I know your talent. But what made you stand out to her?"

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

Riven let out a soft content sound as Quinn continued to gently massage and squeeze at the back of her neck; those delicate fingers felt keenly upon her as she couldn't help but relax into them. "Mm-... Yeah... That's fine..." she answered in response to the Princess's words of demanding more of her attention, more missions, more reasons to just keep the assassin around. The extra pay sounded good too... Though from the way Riven had spoken it seemed like she'd have agreed to just about anything under the current ministrations.

A gentle nod and hum of affirmation was given in response to warming up the room before the Princess continued with her praise of the pale elf. The closeness of Quinn's words seemed to only lull the assassin into a further placated and comforted state as when she drew nearer to her the elf felt herself leaning back against the Princess, shoulder pressed against hers more firmly as the other woman would be able to feel that weight nudging against her; Riven would just fall onto her side if she wasn't there to support her.

As fingers stroked through her long and soft ashen hair the elf breathed a gentle sigh, completely distracted by the touch to the point she missed the venom laced in Quinn's voice when she spoke of her benefactor. "... Mm... Maybe..." she idly commented in response to said venomous words. But when Quinn started to ask more direct questions the elf had to pause to try and think amidst the content comfort she was experiencing.

"... Hm... Is it a talent...?" she asked softly in response. Her nature of being dead to the Force was always something of a perplexing one to the elf, for she couldn't understand or grasp a life where one was accepted and known by it. As far as she was concerned she was one of the damned few who were isolated, cut off from what felt like the galaxy as a whole; a lonely existence. "... It's... more of a curse, I think... And maybe she sees that..." she commented in return as another gentle sound of content delight escaped her lips as those fingers continued to stroke through her hair.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:

Quinn's fingers threaded lazily through the length of Riven's ashen hair as she listened to the soft-spoken answers. It amused her — how easily the assassin unraveled at such a simple touch. Others had enjoyed her attentions before, but none had melted quite like this. If it was truly this simple… shouldn't she be worried about the woman's ability to keep her guard up on missions?

Her hazel eyes studied every small reaction, trying to decide whether this softness was an act or the truth of the Elf. But the way her body leaned in, the way her shoulders sagged with relief and the way every muscle seemed to surrender — it looked genuine. Quinn sighed softly, lips curling in a private smile. So her perfect assassin only needed to be doted upon… how interesting.

"Interesting," Quinn murmured at last. Her fingers trailed along the pointed shell of Riven's ear, tracing once before she drew back and crossed the room. She touched the thermostat, raising the heat a few degrees. The motion was purposeful, a pause to think.

"A little warmer," she explained idly, her own hand brushing the curve of her neck. She didn't particularly enjoy the heat, but if it eased Riven further, it might loosen more than her body — it might loosen her tongue.

Quinn returned to the couch with her silent grace, folding her legs beneath her. She drew Riven back into her space. Before the assassin could tense again, Quinn's hands pressed firmly to her shoulders. Her thumbs tracing slow, careful lines up along the sides of her spine to the nape of her neck. She leaned close, her breath brushing across the Elf's ear, her voice lowered into something meant only for the two of them.

"I don't think you're a curse," she whispered. The words were held an understanding that others might not have caught. "If anything, you're a blessing. Your mind is quiet… You let me hear my own thoughts."

Her fingers kneaded slowly at the knots in Riven's shoulders as she spoke, coaxing tension away with touch and tone alike.

"Tell me," Quinn continued after a pause, her lips nearly grazing the Elf's ear, "why would she see you as a curse?"

Her tone carried a real curiosity — but also a thin ribbon of kinship. She had been called a curse herself, a monster, an abomination. Perhaps that was why she wanted to pry. Maybe it was why she almost wanted to protect the answer.

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

The fact Riven seemed so undone by just a little doting attention was indeed a general concern for her benefactor. The only thing that keeps her safe is the fact that she's typically a mile or two away from her targets before she takes the shot. But that didn't change the very real potential of someone figuring out who or what she is and deciding to try and get closer to her when she wasn't on a mission... In some ways the short elf was a liability. But at least she was a cute liability.

Her response to the touch was indeed genuine as every little stroke and tender brush of those fingers only relaxed her further. It was only when Quinn stood up to go and turn up the temperature that her crimson eyes opened in something of a startled reaction for she had leant so heavily against the Princess that she almost fell over without having realized.

She took the moment to try and bring herself back to her senses as she vaguely looked over in Quinn's direction, watching her form as she came back to the couch. The short elf had somewhat straightened herself again and she looked embarrassed as a faint tint lay upon her cheeks and her head lightly turned away when the Princess sat back down besides her.

But Quinn was swift to try and stop her from tensing up and putting up her social barriers again as she was pulled back into the comfort of her doting affection. Her body shook briefly at the sensation of touch running up along her spine, her head couldn't help but turn to side-glance the Princess as her attention returned to her.

Such kind words were offered in reassurance to Riven who remained silent and content as she once more felt the alluring pull of the comfort and warmth offered to her, and as she found herself leaning against the Princess again her eyes started to half-lid. A content sigh escaped her lips as she had all but forgotten the cigarette still burning between her fingers; such was the relaxation she felt.

At the question offered those half-lidded crimson eyes shifted searchingly throughout the room for an answer; "... I don't think she does... I think I just... Assume a lot..." she answered in response as her head came to rest against Quinn's shoulder now. "... I thought you didn't want to speak about her...?" she asked genuinely, not out of assumption that Quinn was trying to pull information out of her, but for the simple fact that the topic seemed to disagree with the Princess.

"... But... I've seen the way Force users look at me... Confusion, disgust, fear, they don't know what I am... Can't... Comprehend how someone like me could exist..." she spoke at length with a soft exhale. "... So I assume it's just what everyone else sees..."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Riven //:

Quinn's gentle smile faded.

It wasn't something that was seen as the truth, but a perceived reality. The small Assassin's answer made her shift uncomfortably. Being reminded of things she often buried deep. Like Riven, she had received those looks, the way people turned away wanting to pretend they didn't feel you, didn't want to acknowledge you were there.

Her emotions began to fluctuate as she tried to suppress the feelings. Quinn hated that look. She remembered when she was sent to Bastion. At the time, it had been the capital of the Empire. The circumstances of her arrival were hidden from everyone for years, but she was to live there, away from Eshan.

Seclusion and silence had become her best friends.

As Quinn remained quiet, thinking about Riven's answer, a small, slender black cat appeared. It remained at the end of the sofa, watching the pair curiously. Slowly, it wandered over and purred gently and curled up in Riven's lap if she so allowed it.

Quinn looked over the elf's shoulder, seeing the familiar. It had decided to make its appearance, rare when someone new was around.

"He likes you," Quinn remarked softly as she let her nails drag against the nape of Riven's neck. It was relaxing, even with the sudden memory of her own torment.

"I—" Quinn pressed her lips together, trying to think of how to word things. She wanted to show that she understood everything Riven felt. They were oddly similar, and she found herself appreciating the Assassin more.

"I get it," she started quietly, letting her fingers play with the girl's hair.

"I have something in me that when others feel it, they can get sick or lose their minds if they're weak." She tilted her head, doing her best to not let her emotions bleed into her words.

"So when I was born, I was alone. My mothers would be with me, but only for a few moments. My godmother, the woman who raised me, was the only one able to withstand my presence for a long period of time."

Maybe it was the story and how she felt when she told someone about it, but slowly Quinn's arms snaked around the waist of the Assassin, her face resting in the dip of her back.

"I—" Her voice broke for a moment, but regained its steadiness quickly. "I didn't learn to control it till I was ten. I was finally able to be around people. Still, I wasn't the best at controlling it — I know those looks, those disgusted looks, or even the way monsters' eyes lit up when they realized."

She was quiet for a moment, and then she exhaled and finished.

"I hate those looks, I'm sorry you've had to see them — it's not fair."

Her hold loosened as she began to pull away, seeing that she might have overstepped her boundary.

"I won't ever look at you like that."

 

[Riven]

Tags - Quinn Varanin

The sight of something moving in her peripheral gave the assassin something of a jolt that Quinn would feel against her, briefly being started by the presence of the cat that wandered over to curl up in her lap. Her crimson gaze fixated on it for a moment; she found animals easier to deal with than people. They never had presumptions on how she should act, didn't judge her, held barely any thoughts besides whether they liked to be around her or not. A simpler form of life.

The comment from Quinn along with the continued gentle stroking of her neck soothed the elf once more, her soft whisper-like voice heard in response, "... I like cats... Get on with them more than other animals..." she spoke in response as a hand lightly moved to scratch just between the ears of the feline.

"I have something in me that when others feel it, they can get sick or lose their minds if they're weak."

Her thoughts returned to Quinn as she spoke. "... Something to do with the Force...? I can't feel anything..." muttered Riven. While being Force Dead made her something of an outcast it did have its advantages too. She listened further as she felt an arm wrap around her waist, tugging her a little closer, a little more tightly as she let herself sink into that comfort.

But what Quinn said held something within it that she could relate to at least, nodding gently against her. "... Mm, I was alone too... Still am, mostly..." she spoke before she gestured lazily with an arm, pointing to her personal droid Pincer that idly milled about on the floor. "... Mostly.." she gave a light huff of amusement, a rarity for her.

"But..." she paused as a gentle breath was exhaled, "... You did learn to control it..." she stated. As awful as it might have been; Quinn had options, improvement that could be made. Deep within Riven felt a jealous spark of her own at the thought. If she could take a similar path to overcome her own faults, her own inherent failings, then maybe even she could avoid the stigmatization. "... I'm glad people don't look at you like that anymore... You're nice..." she muttered softly. Of course, Riven's only interactions with Quinn had been like this, she didn't know what else she was capable of or who the people she dealt with were. To her she was merely a nice, albeit teasing, woman that seemed to enjoy her company.

"... No need for you to be sorry, but thanks..." spoke the pale elf. When she felt Quinn's hold around her loosen she only seemed to want to remain in it more, gently pushing against the Princess with her form in response. "... I believe you..." she replied as another gentle breath of content relief was heard, the elf once more gently letting her eyes close in the embrace of warmth that she felt.