Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Anger can lead to the dark side of the...

The sound of two glasses clanking together in one hand was only interrupted by the sound of a door closing behind them, and with that the nightmare of an evening that had ensued thus far. Two-hundred and fifty million credits - not of his own money of course; Patches was well off... but not THAT well off - he had the intention of spending that evening, and returning with many a prizes to his employer. It would be two-hundred fifty million credits he would be returning with, and no prizes for his employer; not exactly how he had planned the evening to unfold.

His drinking partner for the evening - the increasingly inviting Miss @[member="Danger Arceneau"] with each drink - shared in his frustration of a wasted evening, as they made their way far away from the auction in an attempt to leave the disappointment and bitter tastes in their mouths behind. Nothing that a three quarter full bottle of the finest Corellian Whiskey and a full evening of trouble to get into couldn't cure.

"What a goram waste of time and a bottle of whiskey!" he exclaimed at the auction from whence they came. Turning his attention to Miss Arceneau, he flashed a smile, "Suppose we'll just have to find our own trouble to get into," he said, casting the red haired vixen a wink, as he beckoned for Danger to lead the way, pouring both himself and Danger a drink, and offering her a glass as they wound their way through the streets of Hypori's capital. "The evening is not lost... yet," he quipped, looking at the sky, the sun having finally set and the moon taking it's place, casting a glow over the streets.

"In fact... I'd say things are starting to look up," he said, eyeing Danger up and down - making no attempt to hide it - and offering her a glass to toast in the process.
 
They left the auction house behind with a cloud of smoke and a clink of ice against a lowball glass. Emerald eyes were glittering in amusement as well as intrigue as the voluptuous Dangeruese Arceneau caught the look in McCoy's eyes... along with the drink held out to her.

"Mmm... well, rumor has it that is a familiar road to you Mr. McCoy." came her honeyed reply, bringing the glass to her crimson lips. Before she took a sip, she gave a pointed emphasis with a drawl, "Looking up."

Liquid fire soon made its familiar path down her tongue and into her belly, washing away the taste of the ridiculous auction that had partaken of earlier. Full hips swung a provocative to and fro as she made her way just a step ahead of her companion, casting a sidelong glance full of devilry to the scoundrel. "I am sure that findin' trouble is a keen skill you've earned more than enough high marks for."
 
The game is afoot, it appears. They had played this game before, done this dance, but business had always come first... however this time was different. There was no business to be had; they had left that behind for others to fight over, deciding it was best to keep their credits this evening, and try their run at pleasure, perhaps.

Patches shrugged casually at her playful quips, never one to back down, reaching into his breast pocket as he spoke, "Well rumours are just that..." he paused, pulling a case of cigarillo's from his pocket and a lighter, offering one to the swaying hips of seduction slightly ahead of him and to his right.

"Rumours... unless someone is willing to turn them into truths," he quipped playfully, a smirk of devilry on his lips, hand extended with what he no doubt believed to be her vice of choice.
 
@[member="Jonathon Patches"]

"Careful what you ask for, Mr. McCoy." There came an arch of her brow, a wicked grin. "You never know if someone is willing to do just that."

Slender fingers took the offer of vice with a wink of her own, only that this time, instead of a table between them, she merely came to a stop...and took a step towards him. Being a woman of average height, the slight inclination gave a bountiful view of that daring décolletage -- and she knew it. It was there in the slight upward draw at the corner of her mouth, in the way she slowly brought the cigarrillo up to lightly perch between the fullness of her cherry lips.

It was all she had to do to imply for him to light the narcotic for her, her body near enough for the spicy scent of her perfume to weave a heady spell for those that wished it. Green eyes were glittering in a playful dare, an expectation. She made her serve and now it was his turn.

Well... save for this one thing, her face slightly upturned to his as she added with a bit of snark, "Pity if it's only to find out they are just mere exaggerations.... whatever will you do then?!"

"A reputation is all a man has you know."
 
He smirked as she approached, the moonlight perhaps not doing her justice, but he wasn't complaining either. Oh... she knows exactly what she is doing, he mused to himself, a grin forming on his lips as her offered her a light.

"In my line of work, Miss Arceneau, questions always have consequences," he said, a smirk ever present on his lips as he looked down at her, a glint of desire in his eyes.

"Some good... some bad... some..." he paused for a moment, flicking the lighter as it ignited on the first try, "both," he quipped playfully. "My job... is to prove or disprove those rumours without bias... " he said.

"I only deal in truths and... results," he said, holding the lighter just out of reach of the cigarillo, thereby forcing her to lean in a bit closer if she desired it to be lit.
 
Charming little devil, came the mirthful though, along with an expression that relayed a 'Well played.'

The flame cast dancing shadows across the angles of her heart-shaped face. The cigarrillo lightly swung from side to side from between her lips, her tongue playing with the tip to guide it. A small chuckle came next, and as if meeting his challenge, her graceful neck closed in an inch as she bent forward... but just shy of the light, as she said in a low amused hush.

"Is it also your job to keep a lady waiting?"
 
Mischief was on his face, a playful look in his eyes as he quipped, "If the lady so desires..." he said in a low voice, almost a whisper, not one to back down from a game of cat and mouse, the lighter still remaining just shy of the narcotic and vice she so desired.

"Anticipation..." he said with baited breath, as he added "the build up... can be almost as fun as the act -that first hit - would you not agree?" he asked playfully.

"Besides..." he spoke in whisper, letting out a slow exhale, "One only needs to reach out and grab it... if one so desires," he said through a hooded gaze.
 
There came the coy, sidelong glance and a lift of her shoulder. "Some how Mr. McCoy, " She bent forward, taking the offered light finally, offering a generous view of her cleavage as her lips puckered and she gave a slow steady draw. Her chest rose, and that play of mischief mirrored in her green eyes as the cherry tip of her cigarillo burned a bright glow.

"I've an inkling you enjoy the build up a little too much... no?" a stream of spicy white smoke soon followed, along with a wry playful quip, "Perhaps...it is all you truly know?" the lack of follow through was implied in her tease, suggesting that all the broker really enjoyed was the game.

"A game of nuna to see who blinks first." Question was, who would blink first?
 
Success, he mused to himself, as she finally leaned forward that final increment, the open flame striking the narcotic, her chest heaving slightly as she drew in her one of her known vices; though Patches hoped, not the only vice she would partake in by evenings end. "Why Miss Arceneau, whatever gave you that impression?" he asked, as if taken aback, flipping the lighter closed, he put it back in his breast pocket, stealing a glance at the inviting image before him as he did so, before returning his attention back to red lips upon a cigarillo that made the mind wander.

"Rumour? Or hunch?" he asked playfully, a smirk growing on his lips, "oh I may leave a woman waiting every now and then," he quipped with a slight shrug, his eyes turning skyward for a moment in a playful manner, before returning them to the sultry vixen before him, "but I hardly think it's fair to keep her wanting... wouldn't you agree?" he asked with a wry grin.
 
"That would be a travesty, Mr. McCoy," came her answering quip, taking another deep drag as her eyes danced in mischief. Her tongue came out and teased lightly at the corner of her mouth, as she dropped her gaze coquettishly to seemingly play the role of the mouse... or perhaps she was really the cat?

"Mmm...Rumor... hunch..." red lips curled to form a provocative "Both." her hand came up to his chest, still holding the glass, as the back of her knuckles lightly went grazing over the fabric of his coat, her forefinger tracing the edge of his collar.

"You are not the only one that deals in information, Mr. McCoy." came her counter, the smirk dancing over her full lips, her chin rising a bit so as her husky low voice fell near his ear. "And I'm hardly the waiting or wanting type."
 
The game is afoot, he mused to himself, exhaling slowly as he each word that escaped her lips resulted in a slight raise in pulse. "Well..." he said, pausing for a moment, "Lucky for you I make a habit of quelling rumours... and proving hunches wrong," he quipped playfully, taking a step closer, the drink in his left hand falling idly at his side, his right hand reaching to the cigarillo in her own hand, as he plucked it from her grasp and brought it to his own lips.

Taking a long, deep - and satisfying - drag, he exhaled slowly, the plume of smoke escaping out the side of his mouth, before he returned the narcotic to it's rightful owner, placing it slowly between her lips, "And just what type are you, Miss Arceneau?" he asked.
 
Her reply was a coquettish wink, and a roll of her shoulder as she blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

"Mmm, well now Mr. McCoy.... that be telling, wouldn't it?" came her low murmur, her body giving a slight twist as she began to turn away from him, full hips swaying to a cocky saunter.

"Isn't it your job to find out?" came the dare along with a throaty chuckle, one drink in hand and her cigarillo between to fingers in the other.
 
Games are fun, he mused to himself, pausing for a moment, as he let that thought percolate in his head for a moment, a heady rush of alcohol, narcotics and desire filling his head. "Suppose your right," he said, taking a few quick strides to close the distance between them until he was at her side, his free right hand falling to the small of her back as she led them to... well, come to think of it, he wasn't entirely sure at this point, but wasn't going to ask either.

"I guess I will just have to conduct my own investigation," he quipped, turning his gaze upon her with a lustful grin as he added, "and a thorough one at that... top to bottom, if that's what it takes" he said with a raised eyebrow.
 
@[member="Jonathon Patches"]

You still got it, sugar, came Danger's relatively smug inner thought as she felt the warmth of Mr. McCoy's large hand at the small of her back, just above the generous blessing her mother's genes bestowed upon her. Her saunter did not falter, nor did she slow her stride, as she led the way towards what would be her quarters for the auction trip.

The minx gave a throaty laugh, bringing the cigarillo to her lips to take a quick hit, feline green eyes casting him another coy sideways glance as if to mock him. "Top to bottom, hmm?" an auburn brow rose high, "What if you need to go from the bottom up?" came her counter, followed by a laugh as a spicy white cloud of smoke flew from her full lips.

"Ahh, Mr. McCoy, you do give a girl a good laugh." she said, tipping her hand to tap at his forearm with the glass she held. "An innocent girl would be ripe to believe your words, such a charmer." she said in teasing mockery. "Anything to get the information you need, no?"

"Though I supposed that your current client would be rather disappointed that you came back empty handed."
 
@[member="Danger Arceneau"]

"Sometimes..." came his response to her inquiry about top to bottom, before he added with a raised eyebrow of amusement, "Other times, I have to try things from a number of different angles," he quipped, adding smugly, "until the job is done," he said playfully, each word laced with innuendos and a hint of mischief.

His right hand did not waver from it's perch at the small of her back, though his left hand did find it's way to make sure her nearing empty glass was topped off to it's appropriate level, three fingers worth. "And an innocent boy..." he paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, "wouldn't be able to find the words to hold your intrigue," he said, leaning in a bit closer as he whispered in her ear, "lucky for both of us, innocence in our company tonight," he quipped with a smug grin, letting those words sit for a moment.

He shrugged casually for a moment at her last "concern" over his clients needs, though he was none to concerned about them at the moment. Better to show up empty handed with nothing to show for it, than spending a large sum of credits and literally still having nothing to show for it.

"Oh I don't know about that..." he spoke coyly, his eyes wandering for a moment, as he added, "the nights still young... I may yet still find something to fill these hands before it's up," he quipped with a wink.
 
@[member="Jonathon Patches"]

Danger felt the warmth of his breath linger at the shell of her ear, and she coyly gave a tempting look over her shoulder at him as he refilled her glass. Her tongue gave a slight clucking sound against her teeth, "Careful Mr. McCoy..." a finger rose from her glass to point at him.

"You never know just what kind of danger you might stir up with that kind of talk," oh the word games were kicked up another notch, as she sashayed on forward, the fabric of her corseted dress hugging each delectable curve.

There came another throaty chuckle, a keen glint of emerald eyes. "You might find those hands of yours having too much to handle," she could give a tit for a tat in this battle of wits. "And then you'll be begging for sweet release."

Oh yeah, she went there... or did she? Ah, these were the kind of games Danger liked to play. One never knew if they should take her words seriously or not. If they meant more than they seemed.

"However, you just might be in luck. I'm not a cruel woman to leave you to your fate. Perhaps Alisha might be willing to give you the helping hand you need..." she took another drag of her vice, her eyes twinkling with devilry. "A man needs as much help as he can get in this cold... cruel.. unforgiving galaxy, no?"
 
@[member="Danger Arceneau"]

"You might find those hands of yours having too much to handle ... And then you'll be begging for sweet release."

All too keen to play along, Patches didn't miss a beat, with his right hand applying a bit of pressure to the small of her back, while his left hand extended forward, bottle still in hand of fine Corellian whiskey, he swirled it's contents for a moment, a smirk drawing on his lips as he did so.

"Oh I don't know..." he paused for a moment, as if studying the bottle, then added "I think there is room for more to handle, wouldn't you agree?" he asked playfully, swirling the bottle once more, and studying the back of his hand as if it had some bearing on just how much he could handle.

He didn't miss the misdirection, though whether it was a misdirection or in fact a test, he couldn't be certain. Miss Arceneau was many things, but forthcoming was not one of them; her true intentions always hidden from peering eyes. The woman liked her privacy, that much was certain. Still... privacy can be lonely at times, he mused to himself, all too familiar that keeping people at such a distance came with costs. He pondered her words for a moment, then a mock look of shock and surprise came over his features, that ever present grin forming as he spoke.

"Why Miss Arceneau... I always thought of you as more of a hands on type of woman, no? Where is the reward in letting others do all the... grunt... work?" he asked with a devilish smile.

"Besides," he added, looking at the night sky for a moment, "I think there is plenty here to keep me warm for the moment," he quipped.
 
@[member="Jonathon Patches"]

Danger stepped into the street but turned, leaving him with a view of her voluptuous profile. The heady scent of her perfume, vice, and whiskey a tantalizing combination. Tempting. Just within reach.

She held up her hands, the right holding her cigarillo while the left lightly rocked her glass of whiskey, the amber liquid lightly swirling within its confines.

"You mean these little hands of mine?" she said with deliberate coyness, even a couple of fingers wiggling teasingly in the air. "I don't know.... they seem kinda small to me..." there came a vivacious grin, as she took another deep drag of the narcotic, a roll of her shoulder following suit as she backed away, that Nexu ate the cream grin revealing perfect teeth.

"Course, small hands can be handy. Makes things appear a bit bigger no?" a throaty chuckle bubbled from her throat, her heels clicking a purposeful tattoo as the hotel where she was staying at came into view.

She shot a look to the heavens, smirking to herself, blowing a blue white haze of smoke in front of her face. "Here I thought you had other ventures to keep you warm at night, Mr. McCoy." she added in coquettish flirtation.

"So sure you can afford to skip a night of your duties, mmm?"
 
Patches stopped in his tracks for a moment, letting @[member="Danger Arceneau"] take a few steps ahead of him, his eyes darting from the evening sky to her sauntering figure... and quickly back to the sky as she canted her head back in his direction. He chuckled lightly at her alleged lack of confidence in the size of her hands. Though her words expressed one thing, the confidence in her tone and the way she carried herself spoke another.

"Oh come now, Miss Arceneau... I am sure those hands can accomplish much if they so desire... their size and stature irrelevant," he quipped with a smug grin, as he took a couple of long strides to close the distance between them, but still allowed her to remain a few steps ahead.

Raising his glass to his lips, the whiskey burned a trail down his throat, feeding the liquid courage that fuelled how the evening had turned out thus far... and how it would continue.

"That's the beauty about being self employed," he said with a smug grin, knowing full well she was a self employed woman herself, "the duties are my own, and I can carry them out when and..." he paused for a moment, eyeing her up and down, "how I see fit."
 
Danger's hip went cocking dangerously to the right, the fullness of her hip emphasised under the glow of the overhead lamps. Her laughter filled went filling the air around them, as she then went stretching up her toes to lean in close, her warm, spicy whiskey breath searing his ear.

"And just how do you see fit, Mr. McCoy?"
 

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