Carry On Wayward Daughter

[Zeraen Lassiter]

Planet: Coruscant
Location: Nightclub

The absolute best, and worst, part about nightclubs was all the drunk people. The bad part of being surrounded by drunks usually came about when they drank too much. Usually dealing with another's bodily fluids was the purview of medics and parents but when people get drunk... Well, the person dealing with their waste is whoever happens to be close. Zeraen couldn't count the number of times that he'd been in a club and had someone puke on his shoes. On the brightside, this was an expensive club so if someone did that here, they'd probably offer to buy him new shoes.

Now the best part about all the drunk people was that they were drunk. Which meant they were less observant, easily distracted, and usually more easy going. Especially since half of them were high on spice, deathstyx, or whatever new drug was on the scene. That meant he could do things like steal a full drink from a table, pluck a wallet from someone's pants, or cop a feel without drawing too much attention. Not that he was doing any of those things tonight. No sir, he was straight now. For the most part. Well, as long as there wasn't anything too tempting out there for him to relieve a poor rich fool of.

At the moment he was in the nightclub acting as a temporary bartender. He was mixing drinks, making small talk, and racking in fat tips. The usual early evening guy had called in sick and they'd put up an add. He'd been in the system, had tended bar in a variety of places before so he'd been able to get the temporary gig. His shift was almost over, they had a whole team for the evening crowd though things were busy enough already that he'd not be surprised if he was asked to stick around. Still, for a few hours work he'd made a killing, at least by a poor wandering odd job guys standards.

 

[Armand Temi]

Aside from the Halm gala, Varas rarely traveled outside of Mustafar. Well, that wasn’t actually true, but it had been quite a while since she’d sneaked out of the large estate where she’d lived with her father, Kyrel Ren.

It wasn’t as though she was afraid of her father. He’d never abused her beyond some punishing duels with practice sabers and other types of weapons. He did not often raise his voice. But Varas had a healthy apprehension of him just the same. Her clone memories were a mishmash of Thomas’s upsetting childhood and Tmoxin’s storied one, so parents to her were to be loved and feared in equal measure. And right now, she only had contact with one of them.

But once she’d found out that he’d gone to visit her estranged mother on Kamino that was the last straw for the emotionally turbulent clone. He could have at least asked her if she wanted to go, but perhaps he wanted to spare her some embarrassment or some other type of volatile emotion.

So perhaps it was with a bit of resentfulness that Varas had traveled to Coruscant, booked a room in a slightly seedy hotel, managed to squeeze into some typical teenage club clothing and decided to enjoy the weekend in bacchanalian abandonment of her typical duties as a Disciple of Ren. All without telling her father.

Varas attempted to enter a couple of cantinas, but the riff raff lingering near the front of the bar told her that she’d only be accosted after five minutes. With a limited budget for drinks, she walked into a neon-lit club and sat down at the bar. A stray memory of her mother being bought round after round of drinks in some similar establishment came into her head, so she assumed that eventually she would not have to worry about credits. Men bought pretty women drinks, didn’t they? But perhaps she wasn’t dressed as appealing as she should have been. Clad in a blank tank top, leather pants and black boots, Varas’s idea of fashion was utilitarian and comfortable, meaning she still had blisters on her heels from the Halm gala.

“One Bloody Mirialian,” she said to the bartender. The brunette clone hadn’t eaten dinner and she supposed the tomato juice and whatever he decided to adorn her drink with would suffice for a small meal.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

A woman came up the bar looking almost as out of place as Zeraen might have if he was on the other side of the bar. No heels, no club dress, barely any makeup. She looked like she was planning to go to work rather than have fun in a nightclub. Still, not his place to critique a ladies chosen style of dress and she made it work. Though in his opinion she was closer to cute rather than pretty.

The music was thrumming loud but he could hear her just fine. He was, like all the bartenders, wearing digital earplugs. They filtered the higher decibel noise of the club music to a more manageable level which made it easier to listen to customers. Also stopped you from getting a migraine when you had to listen to a throbbing base beat for eight hours straight without being able to drink to take off the edge.

"Coming right up."

Zeraen gives the woman a charming smile as he begins to mix. It was easy since they'd made a large batch of bloody mary mix at the top of the night so he just grabbed some of that, poured it into a cup added the vodka, garnished with twig of celery, and a skewer with a few little snakes on it. Mostly olives, pickles, and some cheeses. "One bloody Mirialian." He says before adding. "Do you want that on a tab? Or would you like to pay now?" He wasn't quite off work yet so he couldn't go offering to buy the cute girl drinks.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Varas not only didn’t look the club girl part, her movements were awkward, graceless. She’d spent more time in a sparring ring than in any kind of social situation, despite the implanted memories of her refined Hapan mother.

“What’s a tab?” she asked, and then realizing that she was screaming out naivety as though it was some kind of social anxiety alarm bell, the Disciple shook her head. “I mean, I’ll pay as I go.”

The drink was tangy and had a kick to it. She crunched into the celery and popped the olive in her mouth as though she had not eaten all day. Her greenish-brown eyes took in the handsome bartender, though his appearance reminded her of the brush-cut stormies around Dossun and Cloud City.

“What’s your story? Like are you from Coruscant?”

The seed of an idea germinated in Varas’s head of how to make the night more fun. But could she pull it off and with the bartender? His answers would tell her all she needed to know.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

The opinion Zeraen was forming of the young girl would generously be described as country bumpkin. Her asking what a tab was, her dress, her general stiffness all screamed to him that she was not used to the city. If he had to guess she was probably from some backwater planet in the Outer Rim like Lothal. Probably spent most of her life on the farm but got good enough grades in school to go to university. So the family scrapped all their money together to send her to Coruscant. More than likely she was studying at one of the planets big schools and had decided she'd try to have a night out on the town for fun. Utterly unaware of the kind of danger a naive young woman could face out here.

"Onderron originally. Grew up just outside Iziz." He gives her a warm grin like he'd shared some great secret. In his head, he'd just revealed he to was from a backwater outer rim planet which would build some trust between them. Which would help him convince her of a few things, hopefully. Like, don't trust a drink that wasn't handed to you by staff. He'd hate to see this young woman slipped some drug and taken advantage of. "How about yourself?"

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Varas leaned against the neon bar with all of the grace of a Tusken Raider. Another swallow of the drink. A large one. She did, however, tap her feet to the music, attesting to the fact that wasn’t raised in some far off forest by vornskrs. The beat was a little bit snappy.

Onderon. Iziz. Neither of them rang a bell. The clone’s planetary experiences had been extremely select - Kamino, Ossus, Mustafar and a smattering of First Order worlds. A Caldanian strolled by drinking in Varas, but one hostile glance by the dark-haired Disciple had him scuttling away on his slimy tendrils.

“I was born on… Ka… Kuat.” If she admitted she was born on Kamino, then the bartender would know for sure she was a clone.

Her upper lip raising in a sneer, Varas looked around the bar one more time. “Hey, do you know any place where I can fight for credits? Like… you know, a fight club.”

It was Coruscant. Of course there was a place like that.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

Whoever this girl was the ability to lie was clearly not part of her repertoire. It was clear she'd name a core world to make it sound like she belonged here, at least, to Zeraen. He'd hoped that by admitting to being from an outer rim world he'd make her more comfortable. But it was clear she still felt some shame from being from the sticks. Ah well, not much he could do about that now was... Wait what?

The bartender blinks in surprise once, very slowly. "You want to know about a place you can fight? For credits?" He says repeating her words slowly in disbelief. "Honey, did someone put you up to this? Are you in trouble?" He was trying to wrap his mind around why a young woman like her would want to go to a place like that. You didn't make money fighting on short notice legally, besides, well she looked to be in decent shape he doubted she could fight.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

The out of place feeling that Varas experienced only intensified by the minute. Suddenly she longed for the solitude of the Mustafar castle surrounded by the bright crimson lava, onyx-hued rocks with the lingering smell of smoke and sulfur pervading everything. Why had she come to Coruscant anyway? I’m not big city girl, she thought. But no farm girl either.

“Let’s just say I’m normally the one causing trouble,” she said plaintively. While a more clever and sophisticated woman could have made that statement into a flirtatious sentiment, Varas turned it into a clue about her background - that she was in the business of causing strife or had been inadvertently causing it.

“Normal stuff kind of bores me,” she shrugged. “I’d like to see a little of Coruscant, make a couple of credits fighting and then call it a night.” It was highly against the credo of the Ren to pimp yourself out to the highest bidder, not to mention something her father would firmly disapprove of.

Both of which made Varas want to do them more.

The Disciple again took in Zeraen's easy-on-the-eyes appearance. Tmoxin would probably found him attractive at least. “Want to come with? You look like a good brawler.” Finally there was the hint of a taunt in her husky voice, attesting to the fact that she was a little nervous to go by herself.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

The girl was adding layers of mystery to herself. He could tell she wasn't a city girl but the way she was talking about being trouble suggested she wasn't lying. Maybe he'd been wrong thinking she was a university student. Perhaps she was a soldier on shore leave? Still likely from the outer rim but it would explain her attitude and words a bit better. End of the day Zeraen was curious.

"Look..." He says meaning to say her name but realizing he doesn't know it. "Miss." He finally finishes a bit lamely. "You seem like a nice girl and I'll admit to being curious. My shift is over in about fifteen minutes. I'll take you to a place like you just described if." He holds up a finger. "You tell me where you are really from. Seem fair?" He gives her a charming smile obviously willing to go along with her but wanting to know what he was getting into.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

“My name is Varas,” she said. “And sure, let’s go.”

The clone slammed her drink down her gullet, feeling slightly more powerful from the effects of the alcohol. Zeraen called her “nice,” which frankly was a new one. It wasn’t often that anyone saw the softer side of the brunette Disciple, but then again, her personality was not something she often examined. Train, fight, listen, follow. Those were the commands that Varas knew best.

Putting her in charge, may have been innocuous, or it could have been the most dangerous thing that would happen to both of them this night.

All of that remained to be seen.

“I told you I grew up on Kuat,” Varas said with a smile that let Zeraen know she was one hundred percent lying.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

"Fifteen minutes I said." He points out when she slams her drink down and declares that it was time to go. "Also if you grew up on Kuat I am the Queen of Commenor." He says with an amused smirk. If she didn't want to tell him that was fine but it did mean he didn't have to take her to an underground fight club. He could take her anywhere else he wanted and not feel guilty since she wasn't holding up her end of the deal.

She'd have opportunity, to tell the truth, or at least a more convincing lie, before he told her was almost done. Heading into the back he picks up his pay and changes back into his street clothes and he grins. "Now we can go." He says simply leading the way out of the bar and down the street. Despite admitting to not being a native he walked with assurity seeming to know exactly where they were going.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

“Alright, your Majesty.”

Varas leaned her hip against the bar, just watching the other patrons with her silver-grey eyes. She did not order another drink, the predatory nature handed down in DNA from both mother and father innately knowing that she’d only lose her edge if she tried to fight with a surplus of alcohol in her bloodstream.

She tilted her chin up in response to him being ready to go and the pair walked down the neon-lit streets, the glow of pinks and blues causing a kaleidoscope of colors to be reflected back upon their pale human faces as though the canvas of an expressionistic painting. The passed a string of cantinas which gave way into seedier establishments like spice dens and clubs where dancers gyrated with mere scraps of clothing clinging to them. Even places where… Varas furrowed her brow, having no idea what went on in there.

And just as Zeraen thought the girl-not-from-Kuat was all swagger and no shyness, she thumbed to the strange shop and asked, “What do they sell in there anyway?”

He may have not known right off the bat either, but it was clear that the naive of the galaxy need not apply.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

"Nothing you need to worry about." Zeraen says as he leads her past that. Coruscant was a leveled and it was rather interesting how some of the towering skyscrapers could be high-class establishments at the top, but borderline ghettos at the bottom. Leading her down into the bowels of the massive city more sight, sounds, and smells assaulted them. There were more people on Coruscant than half the planets of the Outer Rim combined. He'd read that somewhere but wasn't actually sure if it was true. Could be though the planet was filled to the brim with members of every species one could imagine.

The lower they get the rougher the crowd becomes not that Zeraen seems to mind. The way he walks suggests that he belongs there as does his outfit which was just nondescript to not attract attention no matter where he was. Varas somewhat matches his bearing which helps keep them from being stopped. Eventually, they come to a stop. "Alright, so now that you are probably lost." He says with a cavalier grin as he leans against the wall. "Do you actually want to hold up your end of the deal? Or try and get back to square one without me?" He'd deliberately taken a very circuitous route meant to confuse her as they went. She still owed him an honest answer and he hadn't forgotten.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

“Oh so you don’t know either,” Varas said with a feminine snort, finally displaying just a hint of the more sophisticated teasing that came so easily to other women. And the Disciple also seemed equally at ease with the change from upscale to squalid, her mannerisms the same. Only her wide eyes gave away that she was likely not used to a massive city like Coruscant.

But when they paused, and Zeraen leaned up against a nearby wall, the brunette’s expression changed from wonderment to irritation. “What gives? Why did we stop?”

Is he going to attack me or rob me?

Her spine tingled with both fear and the promise of a fight. And then just as a subtle warning, she gave him a momentary shove with telekinesis. Not enough to send him flying but firm enough that he might feel the invisible pressure pushing him back, his feet sliding a few inches.

“Look I could choke you with my bare hands and from over here even. But you seem like a nice guy so I’m not going to do that. Why the feth do you want to know so much about me? Are you a spy for my father?”

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

Zeraen did but he wasn't the type to be easily drawn into such bait. The things sold in that particular store were better off not discussed around gentle company. Of course, his company turned out not to be as gentle as he first thought. The way her back stiffened at his teasing demand seemed perfectly normal to him. What wasn't normal was suddenly being forced backward a few inches. The wide-eyed look of shocked surprise on his face was genuine.

"WHAT THE KARK!?" He swears as he makes a warding gesture backing up even further. His personal experience with Force users consisted of this exact moment so though he'd heard of people with powers, to actually be confronted by them. "What are you on about? What the hell are you doing? Who the fef is your father?" He is incredibly disturbed and just throwing out questions in a panic. "I was just trying to be nice!" Something he was now definitely regretting.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Varas could not deny that the palpable fear radiating off of Zeraen was more intoxicating than the Bloody Mirialan back at the nightclub. She had the urge to toy with him more, but he admitted that he was trying to be nice. Not many in the First Order were kind or patient with the clone. In fact, she was often shunned or berated or even locked into solitary confinement if she’d had a particularly bad day of training. Generosity was scarce in liege to Sieger Ren.

“Easy now,” she said, raising her arms. “I’m not going to hurt you. I was just showing you why I could easily win in a fighting pit.”

Sighing she pondered whether she should tell the truth or not. I mean Coruscant was home to trillions of galaxians. She’d likely never see Zeraen again. What was the harm in revealing who she really was?

With a hint of sadness in her expression Varas said, “I’m a clone, raised in a laboratory on Kamino. My father is a Master of Ren and my mother… I don’t really know her. I live on Mustafar. That’s it. I’m not powerful or rich.”

She gave him an awkward half-smile. “Can we go fight now?”

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

The odd pressure against his body relents and Zeraen takes a moment to compose himself. He glares daggers at the young woman his fear rapidly giving way to anger. It was not a nice thing to feel helpless and having someone apply invisible force to you was good at that. It takes him several deep breaths to calm down and digest everything she just said. Even when he has he is annoyed, scared too. This girl was apparently a clone, weird but not really an issue, but her father was a Master of Ren? He wasn't super familiar with the First Order but they were up there in the hierarchy he was sure.

So what were his options? Running away was probably the smart move. She'd just said she could kill him with a thought and was the daughter of a guy that could probably kill a no-name scoundrel like Zeraen with barely any effort. She was dangerous in all capital letters etched into a cliffside a hundred feet high and set on fire. However, he had made a deal and despite being dangerous she seemed to also be naive. "Okay, fine. But if you use any of that Force stuff on me again and assuming I survive it, I am going to run away like a scared dog. Tail between my legs and everything." It was important to make threats you could follow up on.

Still feeling a bit miffed he turns and starts walking in silence towards the club. Being manhandled had rattled him, he hadn't felt that helpless since his pops had last been alive and drunk. It wasn't a good feeling and it was affecting his previously chipper disposition.

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Varas tried to feel… what was that word. Empathy? Yes, empathy. That emotion that would make her truly connect to the young man on some level, but he seemed so frightened, and the clone had been genetically engineered from the entwined double helix of two powerful darksided Force users. Terror and dread was something that she fed off. It made her stronger.

Sympathy. Now, that she could manage.

“Come now. You are not a dog. You’re a strong… some would say attractive human. I’m not going to use my powers on you. But you are going to help me use them on someone else. I need someone to collect the money after all.”

Yes, it was settled in her mind. She’d have Zeraen help her set up the matches, he could collect their winnings and…

“Fifty-fifty? I’ll split it all down the middle with you.”

Now Kyrel couldn’t be mad at her. Not if she came back with a trunk full of credits from winning in the fighting pits. It didn’t seem like either of them needed much wealth as vassals to Sieger Ren, but at some point, he would have to admire her resourcefulness.

“Is that it ahead?” she asked, almost sure she could hear the sounds of fists smacking into jowls, a satisfying crack of bone following that.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]

 

[Zeraen Lassiter]

Vara's attempts to placate him actually get a snort from Zeraen and he manages a grin for the young woman. "It's a figure of speech. I might be a strong some would say attractive human. But that doesn't mean much against a strong some might say attractive human who can toss me around with their mind. Also, a point of order you already used your powers on me, I am just letting you know what will happen if you do it again. I know my limitations so if I think you are trying to kill me I am not even going to try and fight."

Holding up a hand he gives her a look. "However, if you are doing this. Here is some advice don't be obvious with The Force powers. If there is an underground fighting ring for your kind I don't know about it. The ones I do know about would kill you if they thought you were cheating. I can't do much to you but from what I hear if you get enough blasters and explosives together even big bad force users can fall and the kind of people who run these things have enough. Especially here on Coruscant."

The come to a large section of a tower clearly meant to be a warehouse. He knocks on the door talks quietly and a second later they are inside. It was a warehouse but a spot in the center had been cleared and at present two trandoshans were beating the ever-loving hell out of each other. Pointing at a Toydarian in the back he nods. "That's the fight promoter tell him you want a bout."

[member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Still feeling a surge of power from eliciting such an unexpected response over a tiny Force push, Varas snorted, displaying a cocky, surefooted grin. “Look, in and out. I just want to win a few matches, and we’re out of here never to return. It’s not like I’m trying to build up some long-lasting reputation here in the Underworld.”

As they found the building which housed the fighting ring, Varas grew pensive and reflective, and yes, she had a few minutes of proverbial cold feet where she wanted to turn back around and anywhere else but here. But when she heard the thwack, thwack of the trandoshans pummeling each other, a feral smile spread across her lips. She flinched a little as the inevitable knock-out happened and finally thought about what Zeraen had said. The trick would be to make it look as if she was not a Force user, and if she was not too eager, she could might be able to last for a few rounds if only to keep up the ruse. A quick scan of the tower provided relief as there were no other Force users in the area.

"That's the fight promoter tell him you want a bout."

Varas swirled around on Zeraen with an angry glare. “Me? Why me? All of these other brainbolts have people that represent them. Besides, you go find my opponent. I’ll fight anyone in here. It won’t seem genuine if I pick them. Go on. Choose someone really large and terrifying.” The arrogant smirk was back and with her ego as puffed as a bouncer from Ruusan; she felt maybe like Kyrel right before a battle. Father, I will make you proud, she thought.

[member="Zeraen Lassiter"]