Jack Sparrow
Captain
[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]'s Place
Wherever That May Be
Evening
Captain Jack Sparrow, Senator of Kashyyyk, tucked the bouquet of mixed flowers beneath his arm and exhaled into the palm of his hand. With a satisfied nod that his breath remained inoffensive, he rang the bell. It was 7:59pm, give or take some scattered seconds. In his non-floral hand he held a bag that contained a plate of various local cheeses, some crackers to accompany, four silken scarves in blue, purple, gray, and puce, and decorated with muted paisley designs that he'd procured from a very colorful and rather dainty Rodian shopkeeper named Fancy, and a container of refrigerated whipped topping.
Seraphina, it was understood, would be supplying the rum, and anything else she felt the pair might need in order to enjoy an interesting and potentially adventurous evening together.
For his part, Jack had no love whatsoever for Jedi, Sith, or whatever other affiliation Force-users chose to identify themselves as. To him, they were all manifestations of supernatural powers that couldn't be controlled. He'd never met anyone who could live properly with such abilities. All the Force-users he'd met were violent, depressed, power-mad, egotistical, and holier-than-thou, or at least -he. Nearly all were orphans with a grudge against someone, and for beings who purported to be able to feel something that flowed through everything, most of them seemed unable to be at peace with themselves for more than a few minutes a month or to get along with anyone. It was uncanny, as if they were all nothing more than a collection of plot devices.
Seraphina, though, seemed different, at least at the outset. Not only was she physically lovely, she also seemed to possess a sense of humor and a flirtatiousness that he found lacking in nearly every other sorcerer he'd met.
He smiled as he waited for her to answer the door, and hoped this wasn't all a ploy to slice him in half, or melt his brain with her powers because that, he mused, would be unfortunate.
Wherever That May Be
Evening
Captain Jack Sparrow, Senator of Kashyyyk, tucked the bouquet of mixed flowers beneath his arm and exhaled into the palm of his hand. With a satisfied nod that his breath remained inoffensive, he rang the bell. It was 7:59pm, give or take some scattered seconds. In his non-floral hand he held a bag that contained a plate of various local cheeses, some crackers to accompany, four silken scarves in blue, purple, gray, and puce, and decorated with muted paisley designs that he'd procured from a very colorful and rather dainty Rodian shopkeeper named Fancy, and a container of refrigerated whipped topping.
Seraphina, it was understood, would be supplying the rum, and anything else she felt the pair might need in order to enjoy an interesting and potentially adventurous evening together.
For his part, Jack had no love whatsoever for Jedi, Sith, or whatever other affiliation Force-users chose to identify themselves as. To him, they were all manifestations of supernatural powers that couldn't be controlled. He'd never met anyone who could live properly with such abilities. All the Force-users he'd met were violent, depressed, power-mad, egotistical, and holier-than-thou, or at least -he. Nearly all were orphans with a grudge against someone, and for beings who purported to be able to feel something that flowed through everything, most of them seemed unable to be at peace with themselves for more than a few minutes a month or to get along with anyone. It was uncanny, as if they were all nothing more than a collection of plot devices.
Seraphina, though, seemed different, at least at the outset. Not only was she physically lovely, she also seemed to possess a sense of humor and a flirtatiousness that he found lacking in nearly every other sorcerer he'd met.
He smiled as he waited for her to answer the door, and hoped this wasn't all a ploy to slice him in half, or melt his brain with her powers because that, he mused, would be unfortunate.