Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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LFG Carnival on Dantooine?!
*snort*
Name: Nekana Quane
Age: Early 30s
Alignment: Dark, but I don't go to church
Hobbies: Drink, spice, info-gathering, dives and nightclubs, feats of physical prowess
Seeking: Literally anyone else (see: Avoiding)
Avoiding:
* Men—unless they like the taste of leather
Little bit about me: Product of the underbelly of the galaxy
Your worst nightmare, unless you stay on mygood nice side
And if you can do that? I could be your drug
Age: Early 30s
Alignment: Dark, but I don't go to church
Hobbies: Drink, spice, info-gathering, dives and nightclubs, feats of physical prowess
Seeking: Literally anyone else (see: Avoiding)
Avoiding:
* Men—unless they like the taste of leather
* Remorse—why feel bad for giving people what they deserve? Little bit about me: Product of the underbelly of the galaxy
Your worst nightmare, unless you stay on my
And if you can do that? I could be your drug
eye of the beholder
An inn, somewhere
Aji reclines on a bed in a single room after a long trek, one arm bent behind his head, the other handling a device. Night has fallen and he hasn't bothered to turn on a light, the glow of his datapad the only thing illuminating his face while blue-grey eyes scan over profiles on Zinder, swiping left on a lot, pausing only where interest or curiosity stall him.
The nearly solid Dark-Light divide between women and men was a strange thing, but that hardly impacted him. Whatever gods there were... why, they might have been favouring his inclinations, as much as he could indulge a woman to the nth degree.
That was what Hapan men seemed to be made for, according to millennia of tradition. According to his education.
But he wasn't on Hapes, now was he?
A message came in, in the midst of his shower of left swipes, pulling his attention. First one to reach out, today, since he'd gotten up the nerve to sign up to this wholly foreign thing. He read the message, a few thoughts queuing up, but he wasn't one to pass judgement without at least looking at the profile:
Ajinar looked at the image first, then read the profile, and it caused his brows to slip northward. Troublemaker... in what way? Experiment gone wrong?
"Eh bien, il est mignon pour un cyborg," he considered... and he didn't have anything against cyborgs, and they were both wanderers, "but I feel we may be too different."
It wasn't just the Hapan talking, or the noble, or even the vast dissimilarity between the brunt of the arts he practised and the work of a... meknek? But he did have a care about the Force—the manner of his training, even when mixed with his noble Hapan upbringing, still leant him to making the opposite of trouble if he did have to call upon his abilities or his blade. The Light, by and large, was his ally.
Aji went back to the message from
Saul Whesai
, and went about fashioning a response. He wasn't going to swipe and have that be his answer. He wasn't dispassionate or cold.
"Saul,
I am charmed that of all the people on this app, you are the first to message. Either you are very brave or I am too new to know any different. I thank you for your interest. It warms the heart to know the interest is there for someone... but I fear we are far too dissimilar, that our paths flow in different directions." He could feel that he wasn't meant to wander in perpetuity: the handle he had on farsight, and how it invited vision, weighed on him with what it pointed him to. "I wish you luck in this endeavour of the heart—we will both need it."
Then he sent the message, and moved on.
The next one to make him linger wasn't what he expected, and the profile almost pulled a full laugh out of him. Aji's thumb hovers, while he mulls over how this gem brought out a bemused smile on his face.
"There is something to be said for subtlety," he utters—and compatibility—then swiping left, "but you are too old."
"Un si beau sourire," Aji mused, eyes tracing over the lines of the Jedi that filled the image—that wasn't the only part of the Jedi that caught his eye, "mais le sarcasme...l'intensité..."
He catches half his bottom lip with a breathed note of a laugh,
"...peut-être un problème."
And he swipes right, hardly considering the horror that this one might possibly be straight. Not that he could tell.
He had to be hardly older than...
...well, than Astor would have been, now. Aji let the datapad fall screen down on himself. He couldn't put a finger on when he'd ceased thinking so much of
Astor Daaray
, this time. How the Prince wove through Aji's mind so much in the wake of his death a year and a half ago, years after the Daaray ascension to royalty spelled the end of their time together. Years after he'd managed to evict Astor from being a fixture in his thoughts, death returned the late Prince there for much of the past eighteen months.
They'd met when that man with the strawberry-blond mane was solely a Chume'doro. It felt an age ago, yet Aji had hardly let himself be tied to anyone else, since, and he knew it. The half-Miralukan squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the image of Astor's bleeding form, and
Briana Sal-Soren
hunched over the Prince. Still clearer than it had any right to be.
"Merde," he breathed a sigh, "I leave yet your spectre follows me still."
He laid there some minutes more, before picking the 'pad back up and giving the profile of this
Kaleleon
another look. A careful consideration on his own merits, despite the unwelcome reminder. Studying the image included more thoroughly, focusing on the differences, cementing that this was a whole someone else, and a handsome one in his own right. Aji could envision the scenes he might capture in graphite, or paint - the forest, the peace of this man in meditation if he wasn't inclined to join in, to name some.
He knew his way around the nobility like the back of his hand, and could charm like the best of them... but the workshop and studio had always been his solace. His retreat. Where he wove reality and not in almost equal measure, at times driven by what he couldn't have seen with his eyes. Where he preferred to be, and that could be planted anywhere.
He swiped right.
Then he closed the app, set aside the 'pad, and tried to get some sleep.
Aji reclines on a bed in a single room after a long trek, one arm bent behind his head, the other handling a device. Night has fallen and he hasn't bothered to turn on a light, the glow of his datapad the only thing illuminating his face while blue-grey eyes scan over profiles on Zinder, swiping left on a lot, pausing only where interest or curiosity stall him.
The nearly solid Dark-Light divide between women and men was a strange thing, but that hardly impacted him. Whatever gods there were... why, they might have been favouring his inclinations, as much as he could indulge a woman to the nth degree.
That was what Hapan men seemed to be made for, according to millennia of tradition. According to his education.
But he wasn't on Hapes, now was he?
Saul slid through profiles on his datapad as the night wore on, the light from the curtain of his bunk showing while other techs slept. As usual, it was a hodgepodge of people with different wants and needs. He sighed as he X'd out any darksiders that might get his employment canceled, as tempting as some were. (Nilira Vornix, Veyla Tass)
In the end, only one profile really got his attention. His electronic eyes stopped onAjinar Djo 's profile and looked at it long and hard. He was handsome... Handsome enough that Saul had a hard time believing his profile wasn't a picture made by AI. But they did have a lot in common; they both made things, or at least so it seemed... And the gender preference matched up. But they were from very different worlds. Ajinar seemed like a Hapes Playboy, and Saul was well... an average workman covered with oil after a long day of work. It took a minute or two of thinking while staring into those green eyes before deciding to send him a message.
"Hey, I'm Saul. I'm probably not what you expected matching, and maybe not what you want, but I am interested in you. If you want to see where we go, we can certainly give it a shot. I hope you give me the chance to put my best foot forward."
As he watched the message send, the Cyborg couldn't help but rub his forehead. Saul couldn't help but wonder if this would be worth the headache, but dying alone wasn't how he wanted to go out. So all he could do was try...And who knows, maybe Ajinar wouldn't show, and he would have a free day off work all to himself.
A message came in, in the midst of his shower of left swipes, pulling his attention. First one to reach out, today, since he'd gotten up the nerve to sign up to this wholly foreign thing. He read the message, a few thoughts queuing up, but he wasn't one to pass judgement without at least looking at the profile:
Ajinar looked at the image first, then read the profile, and it caused his brows to slip northward. Troublemaker... in what way? Experiment gone wrong?
"Eh bien, il est mignon pour un cyborg," he considered... and he didn't have anything against cyborgs, and they were both wanderers, "but I feel we may be too different."
It wasn't just the Hapan talking, or the noble, or even the vast dissimilarity between the brunt of the arts he practised and the work of a... meknek? But he did have a care about the Force—the manner of his training, even when mixed with his noble Hapan upbringing, still leant him to making the opposite of trouble if he did have to call upon his abilities or his blade. The Light, by and large, was his ally.
Aji went back to the message from
Saul Whesai
, and went about fashioning a response. He wasn't going to swipe and have that be his answer. He wasn't dispassionate or cold."Saul,
I am charmed that of all the people on this app, you are the first to message. Either you are very brave or I am too new to know any different. I thank you for your interest. It warms the heart to know the interest is there for someone... but I fear we are far too dissimilar, that our paths flow in different directions." He could feel that he wasn't meant to wander in perpetuity: the handle he had on farsight, and how it invited vision, weighed on him with what it pointed him to. "I wish you luck in this endeavour of the heart—we will both need it."
Then he sent the message, and moved on.
"You don't need a dichroscope to know I'm the real deal."
The next one to make him linger wasn't what he expected, and the profile almost pulled a full laugh out of him. Aji's thumb hovers, while he mulls over how this gem brought out a bemused smile on his face.
"There is something to be said for subtlety," he utters—and compatibility—then swiping left, "but you are too old."
That smile widened to one side on the next profile that caught his interest.
"Un si beau sourire," Aji mused, eyes tracing over the lines of the Jedi that filled the image—that wasn't the only part of the Jedi that caught his eye, "mais le sarcasme...l'intensité..."
He catches half his bottom lip with a breathed note of a laugh,
"...peut-être un problème."
And he swipes right, hardly considering the horror that this one might possibly be straight. Not that he could tell.
And the next one to give him pause spoke to him far differently. Purged the previous potentials right out of his thoughts. What Aji got from the tone of the writing, the hair a different red than...
He had to be hardly older than...
...well, than Astor would have been, now. Aji let the datapad fall screen down on himself. He couldn't put a finger on when he'd ceased thinking so much of
Astor Daaray
, this time. How the Prince wove through Aji's mind so much in the wake of his death a year and a half ago, years after the Daaray ascension to royalty spelled the end of their time together. Years after he'd managed to evict Astor from being a fixture in his thoughts, death returned the late Prince there for much of the past eighteen months.They'd met when that man with the strawberry-blond mane was solely a Chume'doro. It felt an age ago, yet Aji had hardly let himself be tied to anyone else, since, and he knew it. The half-Miralukan squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the image of Astor's bleeding form, and
Briana Sal-Soren
hunched over the Prince. Still clearer than it had any right to be."Merde," he breathed a sigh, "I leave yet your spectre follows me still."
He laid there some minutes more, before picking the 'pad back up and giving the profile of this
Kaleleon
another look. A careful consideration on his own merits, despite the unwelcome reminder. Studying the image included more thoroughly, focusing on the differences, cementing that this was a whole someone else, and a handsome one in his own right. Aji could envision the scenes he might capture in graphite, or paint - the forest, the peace of this man in meditation if he wasn't inclined to join in, to name some.He knew his way around the nobility like the back of his hand, and could charm like the best of them... but the workshop and studio had always been his solace. His retreat. Where he wove reality and not in almost equal measure, at times driven by what he couldn't have seen with his eyes. Where he preferred to be, and that could be planted anywhere.
He swiped right.
Then he closed the app, set aside the 'pad, and tried to get some sleep.
Last edited:
Saul Whesai
Character
Saul was quietly willing himself to sleep when Ajinar's message came through, his commpad blinking in the cubby that was cut into his bunk. Slowly, he reached up and grabbed it from its hiding place, opening it up to see a Zinder notification. "Well, that was fast..." The Cyborg popped the message open and... rejection... A little sigh came from his lips as he looked into the message further. Well, at least the man had let Saul down easy.
As he thought about it, Ajinar wasn't exactly wrong. Hell, he was probably getting groomed to take over a Hapan Noble House the way the Emerald-Eyed wrote his profile. Saul decided to take the high road with a simple "Thanks, same to you." reply. At least it wouldn't burn the bridge if they ever met in person.
Against his best judgment, he decided to keep swiping. Unfortunately, the only person who came close to his particulars was a young man named Solon. He seemed a little young for Saul, but the cyborg could admit he did look pretty with his hair all done up, as Solon had just come out of the represher. The only word that made his hesitiate on swiping right was Solon writing calmer in his profile, and Saul certainly wasn't that... Hell, the normal thing he did for fun was jumping from floating signboard to signboard above a busy airspeeder lane. The Cyborg didn't expect the pairing to go well or for Solon to even accept, as his last try had decided not to. But still, he had to try for the simple reason of "Why not?". Besides, not like the app would buckle under the pressure of sending back another rejection notice. And so he pressed the heart on
Solon Rey
's profile before turning the pad off again and trying to go back to sleep.
As he thought about it, Ajinar wasn't exactly wrong. Hell, he was probably getting groomed to take over a Hapan Noble House the way the Emerald-Eyed wrote his profile. Saul decided to take the high road with a simple "Thanks, same to you." reply. At least it wouldn't burn the bridge if they ever met in person.
Against his best judgment, he decided to keep swiping. Unfortunately, the only person who came close to his particulars was a young man named Solon. He seemed a little young for Saul, but the cyborg could admit he did look pretty with his hair all done up, as Solon had just come out of the represher. The only word that made his hesitiate on swiping right was Solon writing calmer in his profile, and Saul certainly wasn't that... Hell, the normal thing he did for fun was jumping from floating signboard to signboard above a busy airspeeder lane. The Cyborg didn't expect the pairing to go well or for Solon to even accept, as his last try had decided not to. But still, he had to try for the simple reason of "Why not?". Besides, not like the app would buckle under the pressure of sending back another rejection notice. And so he pressed the heart on
Solon Rey
's profile before turning the pad off again and trying to go back to sleep.