Private Coruscantily Clad

[Loske Treicolt]

Coruscant​

Bad guys nabbed? Check.
Noodles consumed? In progress.

Said slippery noodle snapped against her nose, grease leaving a stain on the collision while the remainder of the unleavened dough snaked its way to her throat. She reached up to wipe the back of her hand against the remnant broth that now dripped from her nostrils.

The mystery of who was rabble-rousing the refugees has been wrapped up, and people qualified to make arrests and see justice through were doing their jobs. Which left Loske up to her own devices and what she was particularly good at: Socializing.

On top of that, she felt she owed the helpful street rat some more time, on top of credits, for sparing time without introduction to help out those in need (funnily enough: her).

Amidst the slurping of lunch, there was a lull in the conversation, which the kiffar filled with: "So, what do you do for fun?"

She temporarily set her chopsticks down against the table, resting her cheek against her knuckles and leaning into the question with genuine interest. What was fun to do on Coruscant. So far, her time had been spent investigating Sith Lord remnants, hunting down threats, and helping mitigate a refugee crisis. Not a great time. Her impression of the ecumenopolis was poorly coloured. Perhaps Asher could revise.

 

[Asher]

There was no denying that there was a small knot in his stomach at having helped the topsiders achieve something amongst his people. It felt like a betrayal. Part of him knew that he had caused a vacuum to form, yet another part of him also knew that the people that were involved were people he would have wanted to get shot either way. Justice had still been dispensed, it just wasn’t the right people that had been at the trigger for it.

Asher snapped out of his thoughts as Loske spoke to him, seemingly surprised to have been asked anything at all. “Oh, we…” He saw the spot that the noodle had left behind on the woman’s nose. “There is…” He tapped his finger on his nose tip to indicate something was on hers before he grabbed his fork again to shovel food. “You have something on your nose.”

With a cautious glance over his shoulder and then back towards the elevator he began to feel more and more eyes set upon him like a fire that was most unwelcome.

“Depends on what kind of fun you want.” He said with a coy smile to try and hide his clear discomfort at being where they were. The music coming through the nearby speakers might have tried to create a calming atmosphere, but given how busted the speakers were they had failed at their job quite spectacularly. As every other note skipped their beat and turned into a crackle and pop, Asher would feel the burn come and go as he looked at Loske.

“Fun-fun, ‘fun’-fun, or fun.” He said and leaned back. “Usually I’d have to ask you to dinner before one of those, but you’ve clearly already one-upped me, so…” His shoulders rose with a slow shrug. “I won’t complain.”

There were worse and far less pretty faces for that kind of fun, unlikely as it felt that such fun was to even be had. Which was not to mention intimidating if anything. It had been hard not to notice the way that the blonde woman’s eyes had seemed to shift out of existence as she touched things before she could snap back into reality, somehow aware of everything that had happened at a scene.

If she could do that much…

And if they were to touch in any kind of way…

And the things she could see…

Asher had already made sure to never shake her hand again. For her sake, obviously.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Oh! I ah!" She discovered the undignified smarmy on the tip of her nose rather quickly, and patted it away with her sleeve over the heel of her hand as best she could. "Thanks."

Asher didn't answer her question in the way she'd expected. Qualifying different categories of a good time was a particularly organized approach, and she squinted at him while he enunciated the three-letter word several times.

The peaceful notes that interjected between the patron's slurps, chews, and sips was pleasant white noise in her opinion - although easily drowned out by the sheer volume of people in their proximity.

"I've never had as many noodles as I have in the past day." She observed, running her greasy fingertips over a napkin by her side and resuming to pick at the dough strings with her chopsticks.

An embodiment of call-out culture, the blonde pointed her chopsticks at the fellow leaning back in his seat across the table from her. "But you didn't answer my question, so I guess I meant..." taking a second to reflect on his distinct pronunciations of fun, she selected the first one. "Fun-fun. And then...fun."

 

[Asher]

"Fun-fun," the man said with another lazy shrug. "Bars, clubs, loud noises and hostile men with guns."

"As for fun," his l lips curled into another grin as he leaned his elbows against the edge of the table. "Well you've already bought me dinner and my place is just about a few hundred blocks away."

His grin mellowed out into a mere smirk at that point.

"Though given what my exes have told me and those I know, quite loudly in the streets, the fun-fun might just be the better option."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Bars was a typical response, but Asher seemed bemused by the idea, which was a relief. Loske didn't have much an affinity for that sort of entertainment either.

Her alter ego, Cora, however, could be convinced.

"Then you still haven't answered my question. Sounds like you don't deem that fun-fun." Accusatory chopsticks never lowered, instead they circled the air between them as if drawing an outline of his face.

Several hundred blocks away was the other version of fun and she realized she'd intoned the incorrect variant of the fun modifier group. His smirk invoked a deadpanned expression from her and she poked at her noodles sheepishly, moving the slimy things around within the container before scooping more into her mouth.

"That sounds like stuff topsiders enjoy. Surely you have something more unique."

 

[Asher]

The smirk on Asher’s lips faded entirely as he raised his brows, not quite sure what Loske would be expecting from the lower levels. His arms crossed as she accused him of not answering the question. More so when she claimed such things were enjoyed on the top of the world as well. Bars were bars, in the end the only thing that changed down here was the cleanliness and the reasons why people drank to forget.

“I mean, I’d like to say I am plenty unique for the creatures that roam down here.” He said with the high defense. “Hell, I didn’t even try to rob you when you arrived the way you did. Even helped you root out some of the less desirable elements in one of my neighborhoods. If anything I’d say I’ve pretty much one-upped ninety-nine percent of my fellow slum-dwellers by this point.”

A mocking snicker parted his lips with a hiss and a grin as he shook his head. It was a lighthearted gesture, but the preconceptions of how the topsiders viewed him were hard to keep from bleeding through. “Though I suppose theoretically my neighbors are yours as well.”

A hand reached to scratch against his stubble.

“I suppose there is something. Though I am not sure it’s fun. More… Calming.” With a cautious glance over his shoulder again he made sure they were safe. “We’ll require a better view of the ceiling than this for that though.” Asher said and motioned for the metallic surface that kept the overcity from falling down on their heads. “Jedi like to sit around and do nothing, right?”

“Think happy thoughts and… Do lightsaber things.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

There was a lot of heat and mocking titles packed into those few defensive sentences from Asher . Enough for her to slow her chewing and watch him diffuse cautiously. She'd said something wrong. The nuances of Coruscant and the dichotomy of sky and metal cities were lost on her, and it was turning into a minefield for her interactions with the helpful fellow across the table. She swallowed, and set her chopsticks against the rim of the container, letting them balance while he retained her focus.

He seemed to get out of the mire that was her misappropriation of words, and settle on something he found calming. Intrigue coloured her features, and she leaned in with a physical ooh, tell me more. At their proximity, it was difficult not to notice his aloofness. Checking over his shoulder. Loske's own senses were unruly, but at least she got some sort of metaphysical prick to her neck to suggest when danger was flaring up and didn't have to keep looking around.

"Something calming, hm?" She intoned, mirroring his smirk. It sounded like a semi-invitation, and she was game.

"Yeah," she chuckled and sealed the empty container with the ends of her sticks poking out beneath the cover. "I guess they do. I'm not one of those Jedi --well, except maybe the lightsaber things part. That is pretty fun."

As if on cue, an onyx droid rolled over to their table. The sound of its wheels made tinkering tones similar to the poorly transmitted music. It clunked two cookies down on a tray with a read of how much they owed. Loske responsibly deposited the credits and the cookies were left.

Loske cracked one open. "I've never had one of these before." Inside, a small holoslip unfurled: An unexpected relationship may become permanent. "Who do you think writes this?" She fluttered hers about, giving him the chance to read it if he wanted to, while expectantly looking his way and eating one half of her cracked cookie. "What's yours say?"

 

[Asher]

Loske Treicolt

Yeah, no, Asher had read his comics. Jedi most definitely liked to sit around and meditate. Most of the time to acquire peace of mind, sometimes to better understand the universe, but more often than not — at least in the case of Master Windoo — to contemplate the manner in which he can bring peace to his enemies. Still, Loske admitted to enjoying the laser sword parts, which fairly recently Asher had as well for a moment. Knowledge of Jedi tended to paint a target on you and the Jedi you knew.

As Loske cracked open her cookie, Asher did much the same.

“Love is a roller coaster, it’s got ups and downs.” Asher slowly read out loud. His brow rose and he discarded the tiny little message. “Most things do.”

“People get paid for this?” The man asked and gave Loske another questioning glance. “Where do I sign up?”

He burst a chuckle through his nose. With a gentle shake of his head he rose from his seat and withdrew a few extra credits to leave behind. In some small part as a tip, but to an even greater extent to pay the owners off and keep others off his trail for at least a while longer.

After all, a 100% tip was generally not a tip at all. At that point it was a donation.

“We should probably move before misfortune finds us.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Before they skittered out of the restaurant, Loske had managed to gesture for more please and pointed at the little treasure cookies. She'd been offered four more, which she intended to open randomly throughout their adventure to calmness.

"Okay, okay." She too rose from her seat and ushered herself out after Asher . "Who's misfortune to you?

You've been looking over your shoulder this whole time."

 

[Asher]

"Oh, you know," Asher shrugged. "Anyone from The Tears, a whole block's worth of Atrisian gangsters, the topsider law enforcement, and probably a Jedi or two. Oh, and don't forget just the random muggers too."

The man let on another grin. "Probably easier to ask who don't want me dead at this point."

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The Artisian gangsters she could qualify. They'd been part of the leering onlookers in the neon district where they'd unpacked their mystery, and they didn't seem too thrilled to have outsiders traipsing around their territory.

"Or another question -- what did you do to give everyone the hots for you?"

Okay, at least she could deduce not all Coruscanti were as neurotic as Asher - it was him specifically people were looking out for.

This seemed like a good time to crack open another cookie.

"Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday." She read aloud, and pocketed the small holopaper.

"Whoops, I think that one was for you."

 

[Asher]

"Well, beyond being the most charming person on the levels, I've shot a guy, smuggled some things, and stolen from those above my station." He said quite simply and scratched his nose. Asher grabbed the flimsy piece of plastic and held it before him. "What can I say? I like to make friends."

He read the fortune before he discarded the piece in the street. They were well on their way towards the exits by now.

"Seriously, who writes these things?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Abhorred by the casual discarding of the plastic, Loske reasoned with herself to just leave it. This was Asher's domain, and she'd follow the advice of "when in ____."

She hoped that it was one person writing all these vague scripts, but it was likely some sort of submission thing. It was as good Asher 's guess as it was hers.

"Are you constantly on the lam, then? No wonder your hobby is something calming. Have you ever been arrested?"

 

[Asher]

Asher blinked for a second. She was new, he would give her some leeway when it came to understanding how life down here was, but to assume people got arrested here was a stretch even for Asher. First off it would have meant there was the rule of law, and second it would assume that the enforcement of such laws worked down here.

"You know they shoot to kill rather than arrest people down here, right?" He said and pressed a button to call forth an elevator. "Officers are too overwhelmed to do much, and too underpaid to care. It's free money as long as you don't actually do anything."

Yet, there was something that went unsaid.

"Look, if you are worried why I shot that one guy," Out of several other unmentioned ones. "He withheld medication in an effort to extort some of the local drug stores. We had a bit of a disagreement after they caught me sneaking a few of the packages out of the area. I was however faster on the trigger than the three of them. So..."

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"I didn't know that. Coruscant is...pretty new to me all around. Below the top-level city, it feels more outer rim than anything. All you're missing is a cowboy hat." How did it get so corrupt? Probably some thanks to that Sith Lord in the temple of level 1. The rest was probably just fatigue and exhaustion from all the handover of governments, and the planet making an unsaid commitment to instituting their own.

"Did you kill him? Or..three of them?"

If he did, did that change the interpretation of the helpful fellow? He was just trying to survive. And if he didn't..did anything really matter?

She slipped into the lift alongside him, a few other bodies spilling into the container as well. Much like most of the city she'd experienced, there wasn't much room for privacy.

Asher

 

[Asher]

"Right, and ancient slugthrowers and all." Asher said with a light chuckle at Loske's joke. They stepped into the elevator and he quickly let out a weak whine. "Whaaat? No, no. I only shot the one that mattered."

The rest of the people in the elevator gave him a sidestare and began to shuffle away from him. All that Asher could do in response was shake his head as if they were any better. They might not have shot anyone, but they would if that was the scenario that they were left with. Asher had already seen it happen enough times to know that it was true.

"The Tears," The people gasped. "Yes, the tears," Asher said in response to them all and shook his head again. "They want me dead because that man also happened to be one of their higher-ups."

"It's him." One of the people whispered to another. "The one on the poster."

"The thief?" The person responded.

"Yes, the thief on the poster." Asher said and leaned in on their conversation.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Pressed amidst the murmurs, Loske couldn’t help but prick her ears and the undertones directed at her tour guide. She still didn’t know where they were going. She had half a mind to open a fortune cookie again to see if it predicted a dark alleyway and corpse in her future.

Asher prodding them didn’t get a good response. Some looked horrified, others looked greedy. Loske thrummed her fingers against the railing she was leaning against with bated breath.

“What’s the reward, again?” She asked.

“Lotsa credits. And street cred.” Someone replied, behind the back of a bulky Bothan.

 

[Asher]

Loske Treicolt

“Sure, street creds.” Asher said and rolled his eyes. “As if the Tears would pay you in credits rather than a slug to the head.”

It wasn’t pretty, but it was a truth of its own. As much as these posters tempted the occasional moron, they were also far from fair in the payment a hunter received. Asher had seen enough posters of deranged serial killers to understand that five-hundred credits was a low-ball that didn’t speak of the dangers such a person was.

“Look, me and my friend here are not going to start trouble again.” He shrugged ever so gently. “Besides that, we have no reason to punch down. There is nothing to gain from that, and no reward.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Through the brief exchange, the kiffar-clone was getting a better sense of how things operated down here. She wasn't sure if things would escalate beyond words.

That someone from behind the Bothan emerged, and the elevator music seemed to heighten to something as agitated as the situation. His scarred mouth was curled back in a sneer as the notes of the music escalated. They were wearing a sleeveless leather jacket, their pale arms painted with graphics of rune references the Padawan did not know. "Who's talkin' about punchin'."

At that moment, the lift dinged, and a few bodies hurriedly exited. Loske had no idea where they were going, so she stayed on the reserve, although took a step forward to ally herself with Asher. Didn't really matter how she postured herself. At a glance, she hardly posed a threat in her civilian attire. In fact, it was likely the opposite given how clean Asher had said she was. After pointing that out, she was a little self conscious amidst the tensions underground.

The elevator was now about fifty percent empty.

"Maybe I don't care about a reward. Maybe I just don' like your face."

Loske's head twitched at the poor banter coming from the aggressive fellow. The other passengers pressed themselves against the walls, murmuring slightly. Loske scooted her toe into the door, preventing it from closing and reached backward to touch the walls of the elevator. In that moment, she activated her ability to recollect memories of the past. She honed in on a time the elevator was empty. The visualization manifested in her mind's eye, and with some concentrated effort, she focused on the weak mind of the aggressor. Cedric had suggested she could impress on other people. This seemed like as good a time as any to give it a shot.

Within a few tense moments, the fellow who'd been ready to lay it down looked bewildered and around the elevator. Which was still full of people, but based on his interpretation, it was indeed quite empty. He looked shocked. "Where'd you go, punk!"

Quickly, she reached out to Asher's hand and snatched it, tugging him off the lift to whatever level they were on and giving a wave of her hand to seal the doors between them and their former fellow passengers.

 

[Asher]

Loske Treicolt

Oh, the classic ‘your face’ response. Asher’s eyes rolled as he let out a deep sigh and prepared to unholster his gun. Asher let his hand hover by his side, his fingers sprattling back and forth in preparation for the draw. Yet as he expected the man to draw, he suddenly seemed to twitch in surprise. As he began to question where Asher went, the man began to lower his hand only to find it grabbed by Loske. She pulled him out of the elevator that promptly shut behind them, and in that moment there were two very important things to adress.

First, Asher pulled his hand out of her grip to stop her from reading his past or whatever. And second, dude, personal space.

Yet…

The world darkened for Loske. A putrid smell of year-old refuse and cramped, unventilated chambers bashed against her senses with seemingly no end. The unmistakable glee of joy radiated from her as she stared down at a metallic cylinder in her hand that with the flick of a button ignited a blue superheated blade. It was the first lightsaber she had ever seen, owned by someone that mattered a lot to her.

A woman’s arm slowly wrapped around hers to guide her throug Shii-Cho’s most basic movements, and as she turned to look at the woman the vision ended. Before her stood a visibly terrified Asher, grasping at his wrist.

“What did you see?” He asked, clearly panicked. “WHAT. DID YOU SEE?”