Dial M

[Ras'kala'han]

Nal Koska​

Spoiler

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXo9ATGhtjU[/video]

There was a small crowd formed around this guy, yeah, in the night club, and he's dancing. And talking to himself, some kind of monologue, dancing kind of badly, but they just don't care. They don't care because in the cramped, boozed-up atmosphere of the club there's a smell like flowers cutting through the air, and smelling it gives you a shiver like a teenage girl with a crush. So he blathers on, and the crowd sticks to him and dances too, just to inhale the electricity. "Yeah, so she was, like, uh, serious. Kriffin' ultra-serious, all the time, you could tell just from the look on her face, and it was such a drag because I was just swinging around for a good time and she had to rain on my kriffin' parade like I was doing something wrong and don't get started on that other guy who just... ugh!"

A girl, some dolled-up Nar Shadda red-light district burn-out with three cybernetic fingers from what probably was a job gone wrong wraps her arm around him and says something, he sort of tunes her out, which is easy because he can barely hear her already over the music, but it's something about making him forget all his worries. The boy - not a man, his face is too soft, too round, hair too tousled - with the pink skin and that electric smell, dressed up in rave clothes (colored tank top that showed off two black-market cybernetic arms, sandals, shorts). But he didn't come here to forget, he came here because he knew that this girl, this girl who somehow got picked out by the Big Shot Daddy-Z himself, was going to be showing up here. To rescue someone, or assassinate them, or rescue an assassin or assassinate a rescuer it really didn't matter, but he wasted five fun hours on torture getting this info so she better be arriving soon.

"...hey, gu~uys! Wanna hit the bar?"

The Zeltron smiled. Inhale, exhale, work up a sweat, instant celebrity. He loved himself, and he loved being here. And he hated, hated, hated that smug girl and her accomplice, so he was going to take off their skins and wear them to a rave, because those lightsabers-in-the-mud seemed like they hated raves, and fun. And he loved fun.

Spoiler: Excerpt From Sintel's Personal Dictionary

fun

fən/

noun



1.


to take something alive apart violently until it stops moving.
"Sintel likes to have fun with drunk partygoers."

As a mass of clings and coos and bad pick-up lines held on to him, tugged at his shirt, pressed lips up against him, the bartender droid looking at them vaguely disapprovingly (he thought, anyways) while he occasionally returned the favor with coy remarks, metal caresses that left hairline scratches, he waited.

He knew they were coming.

He knew they'd arrive.

And when they did, by Sith, he'd repaint this club red.

"Okay, who here likes dancing?" He didn't even feel tired. The nightclub, a mess of fog machines, loud noise, and laser lights, was barely navigable to the human eye, black and white tiling, aliens, humans, dancing, dancing, and all he still was thinking about as he drifted away again, the meditation of mindless rhythm and submersion in others' passions, was the blood he'd spill. But until the fun, the socialization. The dancing. The waiting. The dreaming. The blood.

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] |​

 

[Onrai]

The club.

At one time, Vanessa would have gladly indulged in drunken, oversexualized revelry at an establishment like this, but right now her intentions were less focused on having a good time and more focused on finding a rumored Sith who was here, hiding within the crowd packed chock-full inside the building. She chose to wear a rather standard sheer dress, with fabric semitransparent in form that allowed one to partially glimpse what was underneath. Hurrying through the club with surprising coherency for someone who would otherwise have been drinking, Vanessa kept scanning for someone... something out of the blue.

She knew they had to be somewhere in here.

[member="Sintel Kay"]

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYtGJGp-9hA

Just one more line.
The dull, white light of the bathroom was starkly contrast to the rest of the club. It bothered D'vok, but he didn't really have time to argue. The two neat lines of Glitterstim on the sink counter were calling to him. He quickly snorted them, and after taking a long look at himself in the mirror, psuhed open the door and got back to the bright neon lights of the club, the beat of the music pulsating in his head like a heartbeat. Hell, his heartbeat might've been as erratic as the beat, he couldn't tell. He couldn't feel much of anything. It was a crowded night. He barely had enough room to squeeze past the patrons and make it to the bar. He gave a flashy smile to a twi'lek girl who was eyeing him carefully before turning to the bartender.
"Corellian whiskey my good man. Keep the change."
He was in a good mood, plopping a fifty credit chit on the table as the excited chadra fan behind the bar handed him his beverage. D'vok promptly took a sip and watched the dance floor, preparing himself for another night of partying and vice.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Okay. Three, two, one... bored now. Why wasn't the girlie he went to this outskirt, vanilla gig showing up? The only reason he would go all the way to Nal Koska and not Nar Shadda's deep red light district where the good stuff where you could cut someone up and the DJ wouldn't even flinch when the blood spattered on him because he and every attendee was high as a kite on glitterstim cut with I don't even know what was because he thought the woman who helped get him in a situation where his arms were hacked off with a lightsaber by a dull-as-all-hell Sith in the mud, because he wanted revenge. No revenge? No violence? He needed to find someone interesting, S.T.A.T. or he might just fall asleep on the dance floor. Let's ditch the crowd.

He turned to some vaguely canine looking person behind him and smiled dreamily. "Beat up whoever's dancing to your left." He didn't even have to do the hand-wave garbage, this guy was washed out and had gotten a good few whiffs of pheromones, the music was blaring, blaring, blaring; Sintel Kay was in his element. He didn't break his smile as he slipped out of the mob of dancers, where a circle had formed to watch the brawl that immediately broke out.

Look left, look right. Interesting? Oh yes. A stubbly-looking dude staring out at the dance floor seemed to have a bit of that same magnetism that Sintel felt within himself, that vague thumbs-up the universe gave some people to do what they want with reality, and it was enough to earn a wink - which, to even a mild Force-sensitive, would convey a skin-crawling sensation, not due to power (he was not a heavy hitter by comparison to pretty much anyone) but simply sheer depravity. However, someone else caught his eye too.

Who was that woman who was looking very classy for someone dressed up in a see-through gown? He didn't know, but he could feel that magnetism in abundance from her. Here was another darkness-lover, and she oozed power. He wondered who to go up to, he had his preferences, but it was something of a tricky choice since they both had their charm. He settled for shooting a wink to the brunette also and cutting to the bar, hoping to get both their attention. Secreting liquid romance out of your body did not make you set low standards.

"...hey guys. Nice night out, ain't it?" He grabbed two other people's drinks on his way to the bar, distracting them with a few quick applications of Zeltronian charm, poured them into the same glass, and dropped the other on the floor as he walked. Let it not be said he was not smooth. As in, if you said he wasn't, he would deck you. Because he felt smooth, and he liked feeling smooth.

"Nothin' on Nar Shadda, but they're trying so hard it's adorable enough that you forgive 'em, y'know? Like that? Yeah, I think it is. But I talk too much - so, yeah, uh, like I said, what's up?"

[member="D'vok Windroamer"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"]​

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok watched as a fight started to break out on the dance floor. On any other day he would be out there beating the kark out of everyone just for kicks, but something felt off tonight. Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation. Like a bug slowly crawling up his neck. He instinctively turned around, just catching some guy wink at him.
Weird.
He figured it must've been the drugs. The things did have some nasty side effects, like that one time on Naboo where he swore he saw some crazy stuff in the middle of a high stakes sabaac game. He didn't think he was that drugged up. He continued to watch the fight. A gamorrean wearing a tuxedo got punched square in the snout, sending him sailing backwards, directly into D'vok, making him spill his drink. The piggy tried to grab at his leg to pull him into the fight, but was met with a swift kick to the back of the head by his boot.
"Kark-head. No kriffing manners."
The music kicked in, and so did the lights. Bouncing colors off of reflective walls made the whole room flash vibrantly. It all swirled together in D'vok's head and made it hard to concentrate. He needed a new drink, he thought. He pushed his way back to the bar, and rolled his eyes at the cheesy remark the chadra fan had for him.
"Yeah yeah yeah. Another corellian whiskey."
He placed some credits on the table, before looking around to see his fellow patrons. One of them was the winking guy from earlier. He figured he was either a hallucination, or they had met before, hopefully on good terms. Nonetheless D'vok was bored. He turned to the guy, right as he finished talking. Was he talking to D'vok? He couldn't tell.
"What's up? I dunno, the sky, the price o' stims, that Twi'lek's behind..."
He pointed to a particularly enthusiastic Twi'lek table dancer, before cracking a friendly smile.
"Anyway, you got a name?"

[member="Sintel Kay"]

 

[Onrai]

There he was. The intense level of flamboyancy was unmistakable. The scent - a familiar scent - crossed her mind before being quickly blocked out. Vanessa had once utilized such a body, and she wasn't going to let chemical alterations to her mind cloud her judgement or otherwise affect her behavior. Stepping towards the Zeltron, she smiled, considering the many possibilities of what she could do with him were she to successfully get her claws into him. Of course, whether she would have to perform more aggressively against him in order to deal with him was something she preferred not to have to try and bother handling.

"I'm surprised to see someone like you here."

[member="Sintel Kay"]

 

[Lord Combattere]

Walking through the club he could sense the presense of another in the bar letting his instinct guide him to them he saw a woman walking like she was on a mission moving through the crowd not caring for anyone else her eyes focused on him hearing start to say a sentence he intentionally walks into her making it look like an accident while holding a drink to spill on her " O I'm so sorry my lady, I didn't mean to " confirming this was the presense he had sensed feeling a darker glow apon her instanly telling him she is dangerous and needed to be taken care of but for the time he would act like he was scared and sorry.

[member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Sintel Kay"] |

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"Oh, yeah, Twi'leks. Pfeh. You could probably find some Twi'lek dancer types on Tython. Give me something more exciting. Then again, I guess they're classics for a reason." The Zeltron was content to ramble on in a droll tone of voice , keeping just audible over the throb of the bass, tracing one metal fingertip around the rim of his glass. "I mean so's Corellian Whiskey. Though at this point, ordering a Corellian Whiskey is like shouting 'I commit crimes.' I hope you do, that's what I mean when I say exciting. Fun stuff."

"You can call me Sintel." He took a sip of his cocktail. "And what about your name?"

At that moment, his other target slinked up close enough for him to practically inhale the numena of darkness. The Force was, far and away, his drug of choice. He savored it before tilting his head back to address her. "Surprised to see a Zeltron partying? Or a cyborg? Or the other thing"

At around that moment, someone else - he couldn't tell if he was Forceful or no, the throb of presence made parting these things impossible, bumped into the dark woman. He didn't say anything but looked amused, his glance darting between everyone involved.

[member="D'vok Windroamer"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Lord Combattere"]​

 

[Onrai]

Vanessa was a tad startled when the Jedi ran into her, spilling his drink on her clothes. She was immediately frustrated, but decided to put on a nice act. "Relax, Jedi. It was an accident. At least I presume it was. Even the Galactic Alliance's best have their moments." She tried to ignore him for the time being, focusing on the Zeltron in question. "A Sith. I'll admit, in my younger days, I would come to a place like here and party the night away, but you don't often find Sith here, doing what you're doing." She sighed. "Why don't you come with me to a more... formal place?"

He had power, and he had attitude. But was he in control of his emotions, or did he let them rule him?

[member="Sintel Kay"] [member="Lord Combattere"]

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok nodded as he spoke, sipping his drink before placing it back onto the counter.
"Yeah I guess that's true. I wouldn't say I commit crimes, so much as I just kind of do things without paying attention to laws. My name is D'vok by the way."
He noticed the woman as she talked to his new companion. He felt a darkness surrounding her. He wasn't that experienced with the force and stuff, but even he could feel it as she spoke. Maybe it was the drugs. He was chocking everything up to a bad trip, but he was never sure where the drugs stopped and the force started. He gave her a sideways look, before turning back to the zeltron.
"Sounds like you're in for some fun."
He shook his eyebrows jokingly.

 

[Lord Combattere]

Now listening as she openly spoke of the Sith this confirmed what he was investigating knowing his master would have wanted the Sith destroyed " Sith, should not be allowed to leave you will be I'm afraid you are under arrest or option B death " now placing his hands down near his hips in defense in case they are to make and quick moves at him.


[member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Sintel Kay"] |

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"Sith."

So... he had made the cut? To be honest, Sintel had never considered himself a true Sith-Sith. He had never set foot on Korriban, never had a traditional Master, never even popped open a holocron. Part of it was the worry that he might end up in a situation like this where he could bluff his way almost through any questions with a Holopedia-level knowledge of what constitutes Sith lore plus some crumbly old books he had snagged in a museum robbery, then get caught and probably killed. He wasn't looking to die just yet, so that was off the table, thank you. However, this was a good chance to actually, well, be a Sith, so he saw no reason not to go forwards.

"Fun, yeah. If there's one word for Sith business I'd use, it's fun - " Then, the Force sent providence to guide him out of an awkward conversation, and show off in front of his new audience. Sometimes, he thought, the Galaxy just seemed to like a degenerate murdered.

He pivoted around to the Chiss, a droll smirk on his face. "Hey, darling, listen. We aren't on Jedi turf. You can't make an arrest where you have no authority. Even if I was Sith, it's perfectly legal here. Violence, however?"

At this, he pointed a thumb over his shoulder, backwards towards the fight he had created, being broken up by some vested authorities with a quick shock probe, the tangle of fists turning into two thrashing partygoers being dragged off to the drunk tank for their wallets to get looked through by the corrupt authorities. Half the dancers didn't even miss a beat.

"Cartel police get wind that the whole Force-war thing you love so much is coming to Nal Koska, they bring out the big guns. Synth-5 assassin droids, firebombs, the whole nine yards. Messy diplomatic incident between your Jedi government and the Hutts, plus you end up a red smear on the wall. You want to whip out the saber? Your funeral. My advice?"

Sintel pointed a black, steely finger towards the Jedi's chest. "Keep dancing and don't give me a reason."

[member="D'vok Windroamer"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Lord Combattere"]​

 

[Onrai]

Vanessa merely sat back. No reason to reveal her true power when this pseudo-diplomatic solution would work just as well. She merely watched as [member="Sintel Kay"] proceeded on with the Jedi, watching as [member="Lord Combattere"] was told off. Fun times. When he concluded, she looked at her nails for a moment before responding. "I mean, I really don't want to hurt anyone today. Not in one of those moods."

She looked at the Zeltron. "Really am not."

@D'vok Windroamer

 

[Lord Combattere]

Listening to the sith talk he started to realize what trouble he was in knowing it was time to disengage and re-engage at a new point " I see, well we will catch each other later honey don't worry about it you will have your chance " walking away from the two.


[member="Sintel Kay"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] |

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok looked at the chiss as he walked away. He hadn't spoken up initially, but rather watched the conversation from afar. He did hear the remark about sith though, which would scare any other quasi-jedi-smuggler-goody two shoes fella, but not D'vok. He was lacking in the last department heavily. He sipped his whiskey and looked at the woman.
"Well he certainly seemed like a smooth talker. Not the brightest though. And I'm not just talking about the shade o' blue."
He cracked a grin, and sipped his whiskey.