Balmorrean Blue Sky

[Mythos]

A long day but it was also a very important day... it was now finally over. Mythos arrived at his personal quarters ready to call it a day but he knew this day was not over just yet, he had addressed the concerns of a people, the responsibilities as Magnus, his checks and regimental staff duties as military commander and rations and food as city leader but now there was something personal and tactical he wanted to address. His robes were comfortable and classic as the the sun of Angramar fell silently over the horizon. The party still went on but his body was now exhausted.

His throne was center piece but he did not sit on it, he stood by the fountain that endlessly dripped from his multi silk covered room. Gold was inlaid in the ground, gold was inlaid in his robes and jewels sometimes broke from the embedding in the pillars. In his chambers now as the sun set only one person was allowed to come in, he had set aside balmorrean whiskey for her. [member="Mara Rockwell"]. The woman who caught his eye out of the billions of souls he commanded.

Waiting for her was easy but he also knew that there was work to do with her as well. She was a great slicer, an ever better hacker and with the right technology and gear she could be an asset to The Ancient Eye... but he was also aware that she could be an asset to his heart and that made him wary. Last time he threaded this path darkness was the only thing that was blooming... Could be be careful?... Did he want do?​

 

[Mara Rockwell]

It had felt like forever since Mara had meet Durin—or Gokin—or whatever his name was. One second she met him in a bar, the next they were having margaritas as the city blew up around them, the next he was being crowned. She wasn’t upset that he had clearly given her a fake name. She was used to the guys and girls she was into doing that sort of thing to her. She figured there was probably a good reason. Gokin was probably married or something and didn’t want his man or woman finding out that he was having a little side bit. She was pretty used to that too. It was sort of her role in this simulated reality she guessed. There was always someone looking for a little excitement, and few things said “excitement” like a ball of blue drug addiction.

She had slipped out of her golden dress when she got the summons from mister Gokin. She sighed and looked at her outfit. There wasn’t time to change unfortunately. The black sweater top and baggy black cashmere sweats would have to do for now. There wasn’t time to pick out something else more revealing of her blue skin. She placed her nose and ear piercings back in place from the hotel night stand, grabbed her black purse and stepped out the door. The limo he provided was luxurious to say the least. The seats were good, some sort of red plush leather stuffed to overflowing with softness. And they ergonomically hugged her back.

As she walked through the palace she felt tragically underdressed by all of these fancy beings going by. At last she reached the throne room where apparently Gokin was waiting for her. There was once again more gold, more opulence, and fancier than she was used to. Mara was a lot of extra, she was used to good clothes, good food, good spice, good chairs, good cars, and good alcohol, but she wasn’t used to places this fancy. She stayed in a run-down nothing apartment on Denon.

“Hi, Mister Gokin, uh, your mister majesty, sir,” she said with a simple wave. She didn’t exactly know what to call him, but she would do her best to be respectful. She gave a half courtesy, half bow that showed a little too much of her assets than was dignified. “You did good climbing that triangle thingy. Good cardio, huh? I bet you rock the Stair Master.”

She walked closer to his throne and leaned on it, “So, Mister Gokin your grandness, what’s up?”

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

He would be lying if he said his heart did not beat a little faster as he heard steps approach, maybe he should have hired more people around because in this silence he could have heard a pin drop on the other side of the palace. When finally he saw her he gave her the most sincere smile he had given anyone since the day he reunited with his daughter. He walked to her as she talked, her bow was met with a powerful wave of Telekinesis that did not let her bend even slightly. "You do not bow to me Mara, and my name is Animus Malgus... In Commenor i was still a wanted man by jedi all over the galaxy. I told you my name was Durin, the name I used in Midvinter to protect you"

He could not help but to chuckle, she was genuine, heartfelt and a free spirit at heart, everything that once in a life before he wished he could be but now he was tied by the bonds of a mission, for a quest for power and a civilization to carve. Some are born with greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them, Mythos was both. "I won't leave again" He said, closing the distance between them so that he stood not a feet from her. Her features so distinct and her just like she remembered. "Oh nothing, just ruling entire planets, a regular day. Today was just a little more special for the people, to me it's special because i finally saw you"

Two cups flew between them, a bottle of balmorrean whiskey also raised and began to pour. His eyes of yellow flame never left hers and the curve of his lips almost permanent. "Can i ask you something Blue? If you don't mind"

[member="Mara Rockwell"]​

 

[Mara Rockwell]

He refused to let her bow, it was apparently some sort of VR hack that he had figured out. Well, that was ok enough, it was probably better that he didn’t see her botched attempt at a courtesy/bow thing-y. He gave her is real name, or at least the name he preferred. She wondered where the Gokin thing came from for a second and figured that was probably his title. She had robbed and or hacked Jedi, Sith Lords, Kings, dictators, Senators and even once a Grand Duke, but never had she heard of the title Gokin. It must have been a local thing. The galaxy sure was a strange place.

He didn’t owe her an explanation, but it was kind of nice. The explaination was a little more theatric than she was expecting, but a story that elaborate couldn’t be made up, except by a fool. She was an expert hacker, no data on the ‘Net was safe from her, so either he was telling the truth or he was hella foolish. She was gonna go for the first.

“Oh so no wife for the main bit and I’m the side piece then?” she shrugged. “Ok. Coolio, your Royal Magesticalness.”

He said he wouldn’t leave, and while that was a smooth move, she was a big girl who had seen a few rodeos in her day. She gave an impish smirk, “Well I hope not, you’re the freakin’ Gokin now. There’d be a lot of people who’d be disappointed.”

[SIZE=10.5pt][/SIZE]

"Oh nothing, just ruling entire planets, a regular day. Today was just a little more special for the people, to me it's special because i finally saw you

“I’m just me,” she said taking the glass in hand. She swirled looked at it in the light, swirling it and trying to look somewhat sophisticated. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the alcoholic beverage. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for, but she guessed she was supposed to say something fancy about the beverage, “Very pure, much sparkle on the, uh, red thingy, and its got a nice uh, body.” With that she upended the glass and drained it quickly with a satisfied sigh, “I do love the alcohol.”

She extended her glass for a refill. Sure it was brandy but she wasn’t a light weight and she didn’t drink except to get even the wee bit plastered. “I’ll trade ya, booze for the question.”

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

She brought the smile to his face that only she could bring. "No, No wife, no girlfriend and no significant other. I have a daughter but she is adopted. I had son but he passed away."

He sipped off drink methodically, tasting the great whiskey that he had imported from the broken world of Corellia. It was the favorite of his friend Mephirium, it was the reason he drank it, to remember his sacrifice in Atrisia, today he drank it for pleasure and the good company. He had to laugh out loud at how she kept saying Gokin, it sounded like a superhero with tight pants and an orange jumpsuit he had heard of. "It's God-King and before you say it no, I did not pick the nickname."

​

“I’m just me,”

Perhaps he thought, she was used to being played and left, as a passing time rather than anything serious. the way she spoke was not of nobility but of youth and fun, free spirit and a care free life rather than the serious and well spoken women he was used to. That statement however caught him off guard, was she being modest or the exact opposite? Normally women of lower class or even lower income would fawn over a place like this and although her dress lacked the jewels and the fancy she moved like she owned the damn place... so he assumed the latter. "That's more than enough"

The trade brought a flick of his finger and the whiskey kept on pouring. "Done deal. First question. Is there a Mr. Rockwell?"

[member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

Well, he was single and clearly ready to mingle. That is if “Mingle” meant “bone Mara” but there were two things Mara didn’t dice; words and vegetables. As a woman of the world, she knew what deep infatuation looked like, and she didn’t mind. Maybe for Mythos it was something more, time would tell with her. If he was a fellow Aruzan then she would have been able to tell. But not having an Attanni made other species a little weirder with their emotions. Like they were some sort of private thing. As if there could be anything private about how you feel? Preposterous.

[SIZE=10.5pt][/SIZE]

"No, No wife, no girlfriend and no significant other. I have a daughter but she is adopted. I had son but he passed away."

“Yeah sorry about that,” she said. She wasn’t good with condolences or heavy situations, “that sucks.”

"It's God-King and before you say it no, I did not pick the nickname."

She gave a wry smirk. He was blaming someone else, but she wasn’t about to buy that. Her blue eyes danced with humor, “Yeah, but I don’t exactly see you fighting it either Your royal Gokin.” She knew that he had corrected her on it, but she had to tease him on it, at least one more time. She knew she would probably snicker a little everytime someone called him the God-king. Not because the name was stupid, but because she would hear Gokin. It was the primacy fallacy, and she was stuck with it.

She didn’t know if she was “more than enough” or not but what Mara did know was she was an almost-completely-dysfunctional-ball-of-mess. She was self-aware enough to know that, and to everyone else in this simulation who didn’t know the truth, she was a psycho. She was pretty sure when Mythos saw her more lunatic-side that was hyped on full on Glitterstim he would change his mind. But for now, she would let him relish the idea that she was some kinda goddess.

"Done deal. First question. Is there a Mr. Rockwell?"

“Yep,” she said bringing her newly filled glass to her face. She considered it for a second before taking a drink. The statement hung in the air for several treterious moments. “Several, actually,” she said when she pulled the glass from her lips. She looked at the bottle in Mythos’ hands and considered snatching it and drinking strait from it. She had to remind herself this was fancy time, for fancy manners. She could drink from the bottle later. “There is Mr. James Rockwell, my dad. Norman Rockwell, my uncle. Franco and Jerry Rockwell my twin cousins, and—” she halted as she realized what Mythos was asking, “ooooooh. No. I don’t have a husband or boyfriend. I’m very single.”

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

The perma smile was almost plastered in his face, standing here in the middle of the room holding this conversation was something he was not intended on doing so while they talked he gestured her to come follow him and he made sure to pass through the wall with the several dozen bottles of alcohol and the several dozen deadly weapons including several lightsabers. He waved off her concerns, now was not the time to speak of the dead or give condolences and he was very happy that she seemed not to give a flying kark about those that died, really, neither did he, he just wanted them dead really really bad because he was petty and spiteful.
​

“Yeah, but I don’t exactly see you fighting it either Your royal Gokin.”

"Well what i supposed to say? Hey stop calling me that, I am not an all powerful ruler and deity that can literally make the sky rain. I may be a lot of things but I am no liar." He said with a chuckle, now nearing where he wanted them to go, the balcony where they overlooked the entirety of Angramar as it shined with the lights, the rivers gleaming with winter moon. This world had five, if it was up to him Mara would have one... There was more than one reason for that. "You are totally not going to call me Gokin" He joked, but he knew that she still would.

Then the sidewinder came, there was a mister Rockwell, several. His face contorted in genuine surprise. Was there something about her culture that he did not know? The silence was a crushing defeat. His jaw fell and he shook his head. Mythos was exactly the type of man that would enjoy the short and temporary moment and days with a woman of his attraction but with Mara he was willing to, for the first time, try the monogamy thing. He tried it once before and if she thought he thought she was some sort of goddess, she was entirely correct. If she thought a drunken binge of spice and drugs would change his mind, she was really crazy. Once Mythos saw something, his mind was dead set on it.

, “ooooooh. No. I don’t have a husband or boyfriend. I’m very single.”

That was when he breathed again, eyeing her also expecting that to come. Now he needed to woo her, for some reason the palace and the worlds under his grasp did not seem to be enough.

She Was single, the research was correct. Awesome. He had to laugh, she played him like a lute and here under the moonlit sky, know it or not, she ruled Angramar.. but he did not even realize it. "Do I get a second question? Or do you have one to shoot at me? "


[member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

Mara stifled a sigh of relief. Thank the hackers, he wasn’t about to have a break down. She wasn’t great with those either, or for that matter—either having them or helping others through them. She followed through into the room of weapons and booze. She was raised by pacifists, her people by nature were pacificists themselves. Even though her current world view put her at odds with them, she hadn’t abandoned the view that all lives in this simulated reality mattered. Or that there were better things to do than kill each other. She tried to casually lean on the bar that had the booze and act like the war paraphernalia wasn’t creeping her out just a wee bit.

"Well what i supposed to say? Hey stop calling me that, I am not an all powerful ruler and deity that can literally make the sky rain. I may be a lot of things but I am no liar."

“Well, I mean, it kinda is worth the shot,” she said before draining her glass. “You aren’t a deity. And I mean, if you were, then,” she glanced down at his crotch, “You better live up to it buster.”

"You are totally not going to call me Gokin"

She took a halting step closer, raising one of her blue fingers in his face playfully. She hadn’t counted on being summoned by Mythos and had gotten an early start to her nightly festivities, that combined with her prior drinks, was resulting in her being a little more—well, Mara. “I do what I want, your Magnanimous Facimus.”

She hadn’t even intended to play with his heart strings at her answer, she had taken it at face value, she was so busy drinking and talking she hardly noticed his reactions. But they were there, and if she had been paying attention she might have been further along with realizing what exactly it was that she was dealing with here.

"Do I get a second question? Or do you have one to shoot at me? "

She extended her empty glass, wiggling it, “Come on, pay up, your royal buster-ness. There are no free rides here.” When he had filled it up, she set it down, “You get another one but we have to lay down some ground rules,” she extended her hand, numbering each point as she went, “Number 1, when I drink you drink. Its fun getting drunk, but its more fun getting drunk in groups. That means your down two shots, Your Royal Lightweightness. Number three, I need something to sit on,” she shrugged. She didn’t know what to ask for around here. She wasn’t used to nice homes, let alone palaces, “Something soft and expensive. Number 4—” Mara blinked realizing she didn’t have anything else. She just wanted to drink, him to drink, and to sit on something soft. But she was committed, she had to think of something. She furrowed her eyebrows in an attempt to look solemn, not like she was making this up on the spot, “Bring me—a Fynock. With Golden piercings on its wings. Four. Each wing, four. And It has to have gemstones imbedded on its back. Alexanderite Gemstones.” She nodded, satisfied, “It’s a cultural thing for my people. Super important.” If he tried to say anything, to asky why or object, she would clap her hands twice and say, “Chop chop. Get that royal butt movin’.”

​[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

​

“You better live up to it buster.”

He gestured to his surroundings, glass shaking in hand and then looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need a bigger castle? Or perhaps more moons? I like moons" He said while using his telekinetic strength which with the few shots he noticed was getting a little wobbly to bring another bottle, this time of of mead from The Howlin Wolf, straight from Midvinter and more powerful than any alcohol here. He was more of a beer man or a wine man but his heart was set on Midventerian mead. He took a swig of the ale, poured in the horn of an ancient beast slain in Midvinter leaving a fuzzy mustache of spirit in his upper lip. He leaned in close and produced his own pipe, a white wood midvinter pipe filled with his own personal Bota and began stuffing it as he spoke.

"You are also not calling me The Magnanimous Facimus. none of that will ever stick." He chuckled, bringing the pipe to his lips and striking it with a small bolt of sith lightning as to make the herbs go up in smoke, while taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke into the wind. Then, she hit him with it.

“Come on, pay up, your royal buster-ness. There are no free rides here.”

He nodded, pouring the booze without touching the bottle, using only his power and skill in telekinesis. "Done." Thinking himself done and on top of the game he sat back. Boy how wrong he was. The rules started to come. Number one.

“Number 1, when I drink you drink. Its fun getting drunk, but its more fun getting drunk in groups. That means your down two shots,

He did not even flinch. Two shots of the stuff and instantly noticed that now, he was hit like a hammer. He just realized that he may not be a lightweight because of the Midvinter ale but either way he was going to get karked up tonight and he did not know if he was ready for that.

Number three, I need something to sit on,”

A nod and he turned away from her, the alcohol made this a bit more difficult but he was still sober-ish enough to deal with the task at hand. He squared up, brought his hands to his chest and focused on the massive and incredibly heavy throne that he had on the room. that was his throne, it was colossal but to hell if he could not move it. He would move it. Slowly the massive thing began to lift, the runes on his body began to glow and then the jeweled encrusted, gold plated, almost thousand pound throne began to move to them. Once he had a good grip he stood erect and with one hand guided the mamoth thing slightly behind her and then let it drop, cracking the floor.

Arrogant and prideful of his power, he cocked his head to the side and caught his breath. "Anything else?"

“Bring me—a Fynock. With Golden piercings on its wings. Four. Each wing, four. And It has to have gemstones imbedded on its back. Alexanderite Gemstones.”

His eyebrow raised and his face was a mix of incredibility and surprise but in a few seconds it turned to one of determination and arrogance. Now, this would be difficult given that he did not exactly know what a Fynock was although he thought he had a rough idea of what it was, the stones would be easy enough and the golden rings, he had laying around somewhere... but he did not have an exotic pet's salemens on speedial... but he knew someone who knew someone who did. As his father always used to say. "It's not who you are, it's who you know"

He raised one hand up as if to ask for a second and flicked his wrist activating his holoreceiver and contacting The Bazaar of Angramar. Angramar had everyone from the galaxy, they had exotic things but most importantly they had Wilo, a Gungan with connections up the enamel. If he could not find a Fynock, no one could. "Wilo, It's Animus. I got Seven K with your name on it if you can start working right the kark now"

The gungan was in his house, it was time to close up shop, the celebration of galactic wide adore was had blown up the shops and it was a tough day but Wilo... loved... to make extra buck. He jumped out of his bed, closed in on the receiver and nodded. He gave his classic response. "If wessa ain't got it youssa don't want it. What do ya need boss?"

Mythos did not flinch, the alchol and the herb kicking his rear end but he was still in the game. "Alexandrite gemstones and a Fynock. Get me two of the things. You have a time limit so I suggest you move quick"

Wilo was stunned, knew that he could do this... but a Fynock? At this hour? There was a way to do anything if there was a will but this would not just be tricky he might even have to go off world to Onderon to get it, it would take more than a minute or two. He hesitated for half a second but he nodded. "Messa on it boss"

Mythos noticed his voice was not that confident, so he smiled as he came up with an idea. "Go to the platform, Code Mastain Gunthrak, grab my ship. Use planetary funds."

Now He was talking, Now this was more than doable. Wilo smiled and nodded, laughing as the plan came to fruition in his head. "Consider it done"
[member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

"Do I need a bigger castle? Or perhaps more moons? I like moons"

Mara blinked for a moment. I mean a big castle was nice, and she liked five moons as much as the next Gal, but there was no substitute for the Neal McCoy. “I was talkin’ bout your nuggets and celery. The Ol’ pipe and washers. The Gravy holders and your ladling spoon. Your Wand of Delight and the Orbs of Sorcery. The Hot Rod an’ his Lil round buddies? Ya know? The Goofy stick and his Ammo Cans?”

Part of her was hoping some of these would hit home, the other part wasn’t. She was enjoying coming up with these euphemism.

Mythos was soon smoking something, and Mara started soon to miss her glitter stim. She would have to get some before too long. Judging by the smell, it was probably Bota. The good stuff. It didn’t do all that much for her, but she heard some said it made them trip balls.

You are also not calling me The Magnanimous Facimus. none of that will ever stick."

“I do what I want!” she huffed, sounding more like a toddler than really anything else. She put both her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out in defiance like a crimson hill on a sea of blue. “And if I wanna call ya Fartius Loudious, I’mma call you that, your Royal Manganate.”

He apparently used one of those hacks that his type had and pulled that massive throne she had seen him sitting on a moment ago into the room. She had been picturing something more like a stool or a simple dining chair, but that would work. Mara smoothed the fuzzy seat out with her blue hands daintily before climbing up on it. She sprawled out on the chair, very un sophisticated, with one leg hanging off one arm as she leaned back against the opposite side. Her other leg hung lazily off the edge of the chair, as she pulled the glass to her lips and took a soft sip of the brandy in her glass. This was pretty cozy.

Mythos looked pretty proud of himself once the chair was in here by the way he was standing like he owned the place. She blinked for a second as she remembered he literally did own the place and the entire planet in fact. The thought affected her for all of five seconds before she sighed and slumped further into the chair. It was cozy.

She heard part of the conversation as Mythos talked to a guy to get the thing. Mara didn’t really expect that to happen, or think it through. To be honest, she was sort of expecting him to write it off, laugh it off, or just flat out say no. But she had to hand it to him for good will and following though. He was apparently taking this pretty seriously. Mara felt a little guilty for a moment, then propped herself up by the elbow with a smirk and enjoyed the show. The Aruzan let out a giggle as she watched him talk on the com. He must have been serious about this. When he was off the com, she ran her fingers through her hair, letting the luscious locks flow freely. She supposed she had better come up with a question, and soon. He seemed to be expecting one.

“I have a question for you now,” she said, trying to think faster than her mouth moved, “Do you, ya know, poop?” her eyes widened for a second as she realized the word that came out, “Not the question. Of course, you do. I meant, uh, where do you come from?”

 

[Mythos]

​

“I was talkin’ bout your nuggets and celery. The Ol’ pipe and washers. The Gravy holders and your ladling spoon. Your Wand of Delight and the Orbs of Sorcery. The Hot Rod an’ his Lil round buddies? Ya know? The Goofy stick and his Ammo Cans?”

His face turned as red as if he had blood splattered on it, it had been quite a long time since women were this direct with him, at least women who he was not direct with first. He stammered when he tried to answer but all that came out was stuttering. "I-I guess, I think it's good. I know it works" He said, not even thinking through exactly what to say, he was blank, it came out of no where and He did not expect it. He laughed it awkwardly off, automatically placing one hand behind his head as the universal symbol of shyness and embarrassment.

She sat on his throne and he could not help thinking that the throne automatically looked better with her on it than with him, he realized at that moment that if he could make a woman for his companion out of genetics and clone labs, he would create something identical to her. That made him even more nervous, monogamy was something he did not think he would have to try but here, he was actually thinking about it... first he had to woo her. "What's wrong with honey, or M'love or darling or hubby? Too romantic and real for you? It's the commitment that get's you isn't it?" A question within a question, perhaps she could figure it out.

He noticed that her shoes matched but... he had something much better made, they originally were for Seras but the sizes did not match... he knew they would fit her quite nicely. Without saying a word of asking permission he began to take her shoe from the leg dangling from the throne. He looked it over and nodded to himself, yes it would do. As he was doing that she began to ask him a question, two snaps of his fingers and the home hover droid began to bring three boxes, each with three pairs of stiletto heels more expensive than speeders. She stammered and caught him off guard, again, his face was worth a thousand words. He took another long drink of his mead horn and filled it up again, placing her shoe gently beside the throne.

This time he would make her pay up for the question and for embarrassing him earlier, playfully of course. He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, she would be a handful one of these days. "I was born and raised in Naboo, studied in Glee Anselm, ruled over Atrisia, fell in love with a xenophobic Chiss in Csilla, Lived in Midvinter, died in Atrisia and came back to life in Ankhypt. Now i am here" He said, turning to face her with new shoes looking like something out of a holopage for fashion, these shoes were made from the eagles of midvinter, they were hard to match with anything but they looked really good. "My turn." he said, sitting on the same arm rest as he dangling leg and angling the shoe to fit her foot but blocking her sight. This is where he would play the game on her. With one plucked feather from the fancy shoe her traces the bottom of her foot. "Are you by any chance ticklish?"
[member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

Mara couldn’t help but smirk at his blushing. For all his grandiosity, and all of his wealth and power in this virtual reality, he was still just as prone to embarrassment as any other man. He was still just a regular guy looking to win her attention and affection.

"I-I guess, I think it's good. I know it works"

His reaction got a burst of high-pitched laughter. She never would get used to men and their bits. They had no problem trying to assert their masculinity by claiming above average or impossible faculties. But when it came to her candor and quirky questions about it, they were usually nothing short of shy and bashful.

“I think I should be the judge of that, thank you very much,” she said with a flick of her wrist.

"What's wrong with honey, or M'love or darling or hubby? Too romantic and real for you? It's the commitment that get's you isn't it?

Mara had inclined her glass back again for another drink when he posed the question. It made her snort, spitting the drink back out. Well, part of it was fair enough. She should have objected and said that he owed her a jewel encrusted Fynok before she answered any more questions, but the question and personal probing did catch her off guard a little. She did hate commitment. Mara wasn’t the type of girl you introduced to your parents, and she knew it. She wasn’t the type of girl you took on dates, and she knew she wasn’t the type of girl hardly anyone would consider for a long-term relationship. It had been quite a while since she had anything of real substance, her relationship diet was best described lately as “sleazy junk food.”

But it was also a lot more than that. She knew this was just a virtual world where nothing was real, nothing was permanent, and nothing would ever last. People built castles just to knock them down, they hired people just to kill them, and they bore children just to see them die. In a world like that, she didn’t really see the point of ever committing to anyone or anything. It would all just end anyway.

“Jeez!” she exclaimed playfully, “Buy a girl dinner first why don’t ya?” she reclined, putting the back of her hand on her head in faux exhaustion, “And besides, there’s a lot of responsibility to being Mister Gokin’s romantic companion. I mean, all that weight of never knowing when he will be called and ask to bring rain on crops or lead our heroic armies into battle. So much to ask for emotionally. I get fatigued just thinking about it.”

"I was born and raised in Naboo, studied in Glee Anselm, ruled over Atrisia, fell in love with a xenophobic Chiss in Csilla, Lived in Midvinter, died in Atrisia and came back to life in Ankhypt. Now i am here"

She knew a fair bit about the Chiss. It was ironic that the Chiss looked so much like the Aruzans, but were total opposites. She was so used to being mistaken for them, despite acting nothing like their cold, closed off kind. They were all about selfcontrol, logic and denying emotions. The Aruzans were emotionally linked, family centered, and compassionate to a core. The galaxy was a strange place. But just as interesting, he had died and come back. She gave an impressed nod. “Not too shabby,” she paused and shrugged, “So you respawned, huh? The ol level up, eh?” She tapped her glass like it was a bell, “Round two ladies and gentlemen!”

He pulled out a new pair of shoes, and if there was anything that Mara loved it was fashion. They were a nice pair but matching them to anything would take a lot of creativity. It was a good thing she was a fashion expert. “Oooh, pretty.”

She felt him slip her converse off and socks. They were comfortable, and they matched. She hadn’t had a long time to prepare for their meeting when she got the summons or she would have looked effortlessly stunning with an even more expensive pair. A giggle escaped her lips as she felt the feather on the bottom of her foot. She reflexively kicked out before trying to pull her legs in towards her body to protect them, “Ooooh, that’s meeeeaaaan!”

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

"Be a nice girl and you could be judge, jury and executioner" He said, already the booze lighting his head up like life day parade. As she spoke to him his friend Wilo delivered messages to his wrist communicator in the form of micro projections, small flashes and holoprojections that would update Mythos of the current situation. As of now only three people died and only one planetary government was alarmed and insulted. So far so good. He watched her facial expression and tried judging it as best he could, as drunk as he was getting, pouring more drinks and doing shot after shot in rhythm with her but also mixing it with beer already guaranteed tonight would end with him knocked out or needing a droid to carry him upstairs. By the looks of things they both would need droids. Her explanation brought a nod from him yet Mythos had never given up on anything in his life unless he was literally shot dead or blown up, he believed in himself, he thought nothing was impossible for he who tried. "Interesting" He stated, taking a puff of his own Bota and passing the pipe to the left hand side and thinking about what to say. Wit evaded him, he just stated the honest.

"I look forward to changing your mind, or at least trying with all my heart to"

That sounded way to deep and real to even him. He looked at the glass and grimaced. 'Stuff is pretty hardcore, Damn Valkyri'

It did not get him much of the time but he looked back over her and offered her a comforting smile, he thought a crazy idea, to make the party animal, crazy cyber slicer his own girl. Somehow that sounded like a more difficult task than conquering a world and that is why he liked it.

​

“Buy a girl dinner first why don’t ya?”

"Why? Are you hungry? I can cook something up if you'd like. Speaking of which, what's your idea of dinner? Mine is a metric kark ton of meat and wine. Are you fancier than that? "

He had not finished saying those words when Wilo pulled up on his wrist com again, this time with an emergency com directed at transportation. Mythos clicked a button and activated the appropriate IFF tags for the system then started a timer. Again she said something along the lines of computers and video games, he was starting to see a pattern but had yet to connect the dots, maybe that was just the lingo of the college kids these days, still it made him raise an eyebrow. He poured another round for both of them and decided not to press that specific point, not yet at least.

When he foot recoiled he gave her a pleased smile, so indeed she was. "I'll take that as a yes." A shining light could be seen in the stars and it was getting closer, behind it, lights in a line shining less brightly. "Here he comes" He said, standing up from the armchair of the throne and gazing out into the horizon. "You're coming in to fast wilo, pop the breaks and shift left."

Inside the ship, wilo was thinking the exact same thing. He had been chased for 12 parsects by an angry group of individuals ranging from Trandoshan hunters, to Gem thieves to government officials. One little problem for them though... they just entered Ancient Eye space. Wilo was a good pilot, he banked to the left and activated party poppers. The ship careened off to the right some seventy feet fro Mythos and crash landed in the balcony, shaking the entire floor with it and sending rocks and debris his way. Mythos was drunk but adrenaline and combat has a way of shaking you out of it.

One stone headed straight for his blue lady, that one he sliced in half with one precise strike of his lightsaber not five feet from her. Two more came to him and those he halted with a blast of telekinetic power. The debris cleared and the canopy popped open just as the fighters and freighters of those individuals behind them made themselves clear. As suddenly as they came, from behind the palace the Tie-Reapers swarmed in, from above, taking them by surprise and began obliterating the strangers in this place. The ships began blowing up in the sky, it brought a smile to his face. He looked at her with that same, confident smile. "Fireworks too. Just cause you smiled"

The shattered transparisteel of the canopy Wilo used crashed into the cracked slab of the palace steps. Out of the smoke and rocks of the crashes came out this one, massive gungan with a massive backpack in his back that seemed to move. He seemed... disturbed but confident. Mythos strolled over, gave him a warm welcome and received the backpack. "Funds will bee transferred immediately, feel free to stay in the royal estates for a few months, lay low. Don't worry about the ship, we will take care of this, pin it on a rouge state agent. Thanks for the help"

Wilo nodded, threw once glance over Mythos' shoulder to the blue girl and smiled. "Youssa got it boss, Messa a call away"

And just like that, the guy vanished taking only his weapon with him and a chip card leaving Mythos the colossal backpack which he promptly returned to her. Upon the balcony he placed the pack and methodically unclipped all it's harnesses and energy padding then opened it to reveal the transaristeel ultra, exotic cages. Inside, Two Adult Fynocs, One male and one female, both with every characteristic she had commissioned. If he had looked proud of himself before, he looked absolutely arrogant now. "Anything else?" He pompously stated, a deliberate challenge to her.

[member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

"Be a nice girl and you could be judge, jury and executioner"

“Oh, your Gokin-ness,” she said expanding the word like a sigh as she laid back further. She allowed her back to sprawl out along the arm of the chair. It showed just how flexible she was, and offered a very inappropriate, if not enjoyable view of her figure. “If you haven’t realized it by now that I am anything but a nice girl, you probably never will.”

She wasn’t totally too far gone yet, but she was working hard to get there. Mara finished her glass off and slammed it on the ground. She was done with anything dignified. She clumsily reached and grabbed the bottle by the neck, almost falling out of the chair. Her efforts were not unrewarded. She pulled the bottle to her lips and took a gulp as Mythos spoke.

"I look forward to changing your mind, or at least trying with all my heart to"

She plucked the pipe from his fingers mischievously and took her own long, puff on the stuff. She was hardly a stranger to smoking things. If she ever encountered a substance, she tried it. She held the dark smoke in her lungs for a few seconds. She intentionally hadn’t said no, or yes. She was pretty sure that, like everyone else, he would find something about her he hated, and would toss her away like an empty dime bag.

“Let’s just have fun with it and see where it goes,” she said, at last letting the smoke out of her lungs with the words. She tossed the pipe, with its burning contents, back towards Mythos, “Fair?”

"Why? Are you hungry? I can cook something up if you'd like. Speaking of which, what's your idea of dinner? Mine is a metric kark ton of meat and wine. Are you fancier than that? "

“Well, I mean, not yet, I ate before I came here,” the age-old lie. She knew better than to eat on the first date. Or the second. She giggled. “Fancier?” she extended the bottle shaking it in his face, “I’m literally drinking from the bottle here. I didn’t come from money, the Rockwells are working class peeps. I know what it means to eat Raporg noodles and be content.”

Mara watched as the ship came closer. She could only guess that this meant—something special. She snuck a sip in from the bottle as it came closer and closer. Mara wasn’t a pilot at all or a combat expert but even she could tell whoever was coming in was in trouble. She leaned in, the suspense building as they flew right into the danger zone. Suddenly the ships began to explode, Mara’s arms shot up with a victorious whoop. She bounced in her chair cheering. Alcohol spilt out from the bottle in her hands, getting on the throne, the floor, herself, and some probably on Mythos.

The Gungan came in with a smashing landing. A saner being would have been afraid, but Mara hardly flinched. She stumbled from the throne almost falling on her face in the process. She had been drinking and sitting quite a while. She clambored towards the Gungan, hardly able to walk in a strait line. She grabbed his shoulder to steady herself, offering a beaming smile, “Aaaay, buddy! Good job. I give you a thumbs up.” She dropped the bottle in her free hand, it fell to the ground and shattered as she gave him the gesture of approval. The shattered bottle didn’t even register for her right now. “Fancy flyin’ fancy shootin’. Pew pew pew.”

Mara looked down at the two birds, both up to her very specific, almost impossible demands. For a second she squinted and looked at her empty hand where there had once been a bottle. Her face showed her first thought; whatever she was drinking was some great, strong stuff. Her face then showed her second thought; who the hell kept a pair of birds like this on hand? Exactly like this. Down to the last piercing. Who did that??? She extended her hand toward both birds, looking at Mythos. She opened her mouth to say something, but she honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. She had asked for one. And he did double that. She shrugged, “Okay.”

Mara knelt down to both of the birds. She placed one hand on each of the two cages, looking at the two birds, “You two are gonna be my best friends,” she looked at the male, “I’mma call you Buford. Buford Butthole.” She looked to the female, “And I’mma call you Patricia. Patricia Pu—Nah, I like Chainsaw. Your name is Chainsaw now.” She patted Buford’s cage, and the male riled up, snapping at her hand. Mara recoiled, but was so uncoordinated at this point, all she did was fall back on her backside, “No! Bad Butthole! Bad! No biting buttholes in this house!”

"Anything else?"

She tilted her head to the side slightly, “You know what? I really wanna do a line right now.” She tried to get up, but was unable. Instead, Mara just laid back on the floor, not too far from the crashed ship. Thoroughly inebriated, all remnants of any filter she had before was completely gone. “You got any ‘stim?”

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

Mythos was no lightweight but the grog from Midvinter finally caught up to him, one swig after another matching Mara to keep the competition going finally knocked him into the world of wasted. Her words may be slurred, but he could still make chatter, drunk and pointless chatter but he could still swing and slur words too.​

“If you haven’t realized it by now that I am anything but a nice girl, you probably never will.”

"Ha!" He laughed, slamming himself down by her side int he chair, one of her legs draping him like a hat as another horn of mead went down his throat, it's cooling refreshment hiding the incredible alcohol content. "I'll make a nice girl out of you, i know your weakspot now" He said, gesturing to her bare foot groggily. "I'll have fun with you but" He said, searching for the words in a now rattled mind more shocked and battered by alcohol than he thought. It was a miracle how he was making cohesive sentences at all at this point. "I know where this will go, I hope you won't mind a near future. Fair enough"

He sat there, refilling both their cups one swig after the other, it had been a long time since he was able to let loose and live in comfort as the power he boasted conquered sheer lanscapes of galactic revenue. He ruled now... not a Sith Lord, not a small pebble... he was the ruling power of The Ancient Eye and that mean't he could do whatever it is he wanted to do. If all that power was not enough to get the girl, was it even worth it?

“I’m literally drinking from the bottle here. I didn’t come from money, the Rockwells are working class peeps. I know what it means to eat Raporg noodles and be content.”

He chuckled at that, he could not relate, he always had in abundance, he never knew need outside a battlefield... so in a case he could relate. "I can sort of relate... only when i am battle do i see and feel real need... but at the same time it is in battle where I am most at home. What if I told you, you can make me stronger in battle?" His words were slurred and slow, his inebriated state did not allow him to speak clearly or coherently but there was some truth to this question. She could, in more than one way make him much more powerful in battle.

He was content that she liked the birds, they were not cheap but he needed to make point. If she asked for the stars he would make them come down today. "You are not naming Buford Butthole. I wanna name that one" He said, looking straight into the beak of the thing and narrowing his eyes. "I wanna name him Boomstick" Yeah, that was a cool name, it was the name of his Guar'lara when he was a kid, the one he beat to death with a stick.

“You got any ‘stim?”

He stopped, looked at her in a inquisitive manner, not to judge her question but to put the pieces together. "No" He said, turning away and thinking hard on the question. Glitterstim? He scratched his chin and passed the long bird feather under the sole of her foot one last time, just to get a reaction from her. "But i know someone who can" He said, pulling his communicator and reaching a droid in the marketplace who had connections with the Hutt emissaries from the battle of Angramar. "CV-44, Is Kaido still around? Tellim' to bring me some of that gliterry stuff we were talkin' bout couple o' days ago."

If she could, she would notice that old Midvinterian Accent come alive.

 

[Mara Rockwell]

For Mara, any night where she ended up drunk off her butt, it was a good night. She didn’t have much to live for but revelry and delight. This virtual world was pointless after all, she just wanted to have a good ride while she was here. Her veil had been raised, she had seen the truth. She pulled the bottle up to her lips again and tilted her head back, drinking some and a fair bit dribbled down around her cheeks. Mara groaned. She wobbly set her bottle down and struggled to strip off the black comfy sweater top. Her slightly-more bare top was covered in a bright pink crop-top that was even more vibrant against her blue skin. She tossed her sweater away.

"I'll make a nice girl out of you, i know your weakspot now"

“Ha!” Mara laughed triumphantly. She pointed at Mythos gleefully, “Your wrong, your royal Gokin-ness. My weakspot is more in the middle lands.”

Maybe he did know where this was going, he had his own ideas about it. And she was ok with him thinking that. But for now, that wasn’t a big deal for her. She would burn that bridge when she got there.

“Oooh,” she said waving her fingers around wildly, “is that your special super powers talkin?”

Mara had kind of suspected Mythos had grown up on caviar and steak. He sort of had that feel of “look at me, I wipe my butt with silk” going on. She didn’t have a problem with people who wiped their butts with silk, in fact she was looking forward to trying it real soon now that Mythos had the fortune to afford that. But war was the great equalizer among them all. At the mention of combat, Mara did her best to hide her revulsion. Her face twisted slightly in a grimace. She hated violence. It wasn’t out of compassion, but what little bits of her morals were left told her that it was wrong to kill. She didn’t believe the soul ended in this simulated reality in the least. Dying here just meant waking up in the real world. Whatever that looked like. She just couldn’t bring herself to do that.

What if I told you, you can make me stronger in battle?"

“I tend to have that affect on men,” she said with a dramatic sigh, “A man is, after all, no stronger than the greater good he fights for. And I am, after all, the greatest good that you are ever gonna get.”

"I wanna name him Boomstick”

“Okay, then we compromise,” she offered with a shrug, “You call him Buford Boomstick, I will call him Buford Butthole. Sound fair?”

He started working to get her some Glitterstim and Mara just laid out on the hard floor, sprawled and comfortable. Her body was too lethargically drunk to get up and even when she had tried, she didn’t have the coordination to manage it. She needed spice or a droid to carry her up. Maybe both. She did notice he had an accent starting to push through his speech, but Mara wasn’t well traveled enough to know where exactly it was from. A shiver of excitement ran through her body at the knowledge that glitter stim was only a few moments away. It had only been a few hours since her last hit, but an addiction was an addiction all the same.

[member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

Plastered in the ground like a stain Mythos simply looked into the stars while she spoke to him, it has been a very long time since he was actually content and enjoying himself while not either, killing mass amounts of people or putting his life at risk. He smiled at the five moons orbiting Nibelungen, Angramar being their center point and him being their power, if he could build a home and build his strength here... would it hurt his task? Had he lost sight of what he was here to do?... Mara seemed to have that effect, at least for the moment.

"I have no special powers... I have the power of the dark side of the force which i use to conquer and get what I want. I command the living force as a musician commands his instrument, I play it and it makes the sounds i want it to make. Just like you will later tonight"

That was the first time in a long time Mythos had spoken like that and it was only half the alcohol, the other half was him actually thinking Mara was the single most beautiful female in the entire karking galaxy.
​

“A man is, after all, no stronger than the greater good he fights for. And I am, after all, the greatest good that you are ever gonna get.”

He laughed and turned to her, yellow eyes blazing in an intensity that he could not replicate without true passion. "I agree but I mean in a different way" His slurred words now gained composure, another sip of the Midevntirian Ale would see that not be the case anymore. "You are a good slicer and could be a great asset as an Agent for me, information and all that really helps me... but I have a feeling blood might make you queasy and make no mistake future Mrs. Gokin." He said, turning his body to face her and giving her a confident smile that just did not match with his eyes. His smile was genuine and heartwarming, it would melt the hearts of children and adults over the galaxy as it did on so many times before... but those eyes screamed one word. 'Run'. Even his tone changed, as if the alcohol had worn off for a slight second, the force itself spoke along his words and his eyes craved flesh and blood... violence incarnate.

"I spill copious amounts of blood. I am a warrior and a king, I dedicate most of my time to perfecting my craft in combat in close, long and mid ranged engagements." He paused, letting the words sink in as his horn of mead made its way to his lips, his eyes never breaking contact for a single moment.

"I have killed more people in a standard galactic month than you have met in your entire life"

Again, his words did not match the tone of his voice, he sounded utterly cheerful and content as if nothing in the galaxy could be more mundane and filled with spunk. Would it turn her off being here with him? It needed to be said, she would find out if the excessive amount of weapons that surrounded her did not give it away. Hopeful to change the mood Mythos shook his head and turned back to looking at the stars while his communicator rang and a drone droid flew into his balcony which was at this time, absolutely destroyed in one side. There was the glitterstim and spice she ordered and here was Mythos' personal ZP tobacco rolling skins. "If you call him by that ridiculous name, I will exploit that weakspot and every other you have after every sundown"

[member="Mara Rockwell"]