Private Fast Track to Creds

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder​

Devin wasn’t exactly sure when he’d drifted this far off the Path.. only that it had happened quietly, the way a ship slips off without anyone touching the controls. One day he was flying an X‑wing over Odessa on another patrol run. The next, that same starfighter sat in a hangar he hadn't seen in months while he rode a commercial transport bound for Nar Shaddaa. Somewhere between all the hyperspace lanes, he’d begun to lose his purpose..

Not the first time he’d slide backward either. The lower levels of Coruscant had a way of imprinting on people.. on him, especially. Nar Shaddaa was a mirror. And since that battle over Atrisia, a piece of him loosened. The lucky bastard energy, though? That was still there. Devin was on a streak these last few nights. Not enough to get rich.. but plenty enough to stay interested. The House of Iron was exactly where he planned to keep it going, too.

He weaved through the crowds with that usual rhythm of swagger and survival instinct. A worn jacket was hanging open at the collar. The thing had seen better years.. never mind days. Frayed seams, there was a patch or two barely hanging on, and it had even survived a handful of scrapes out back. Under that was a plain shirt. Cargo pants that no longer carried their original color and scuffed boots finished the look. Just one outfit to his name besides that infamous orange flightsuit.

Music thumped through the floor, bass vibrating. The air was a mix of perfume and questionable ambition. Pupils were blown wide, and it wasn’t from the lighting. Something was buzzing under the surface. Wrong crowd again; so, with them came the wrong habits. He’d quit again soon. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Then it came into view, the sabacc table, a divine altar that always called. Typical Corellian Spike rules.. just the way he liked it. Devin slid into an open seat and tossed his credits into both the main and sabacc pot as if he’d been doing this since he first learned to walk. The dealer was sentient, which he preferred. Droids couldn’t be bribed.. and they didn’t really have tells either. Sentients had everything. Tonight it was a Mirialan. His expression was blank.. too professional. Definitely trying too hard. And that made Devin’s lips curve with mirth.

Two cards slid across the table. Of course, he caught them with ease, shielding them from the others. His awareness was sharp; the tap of a heel under the table, a Nikto’s jaw clenching every time he tried to relax. Maybe this was home.. not the ship or the Path.. just this chaos.

A grin came easily. “Well,” he drawled, “I just want to say, statistically? One of you is about to lose everything you own, and it’s.. probably not me. Luck and I are finally back on speaking terms again.”

A Davorian scoffed, and another human muttered something under his breath. All of that was filed away. Every single reaction was a tool.

Some Nikto raised a brow. “You planning to play or just talk us to death?”

“Can’t multitask? Sad,” Devin shot back. “Mental tactics? Just garnish on the plate.”

He managed to coax an amused huff from the Miralian dealer that time. Finally, he leaned forward, elbows on the table and glanced back down to his cards.

Yeah. Maybe the Path was overrated.

“Alright. If I go broke tonight, I expect at least one of you to pretend you feel bad.”

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire: Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, and Black Boots​

It began long before the pale woman with the platinum hair set foot in the establishment, but it wasn't so great a crowd as to outmatch the sound within. Shani Ryder was a rising star in Swoop racing; some hailed her success partially to how much she played to the crowd even when there wasn't a race. No small number of those people also pointed out how liberally she threw around credits to those near her, and how that would garner support on almost any planet even if she was the worst swoop jockey in history. And she didn't care.

Of course, people liked free drinks. Take selfies with someone famous and crow about it to their friends. So they got a little something, and she got a little something. Actually, Shani got a lot of something, but her adoring fans didn't need to know -- and largely didn't care. So long as she excited and pampered them, they would adore and stick close to her.

Which is how she entered the club with a small group of people trying to stay in her orbit as others found along the way pushed their way in. Long as none of them started shooting one another, Shani found it was all in good fun. It was life, and she was all about celebrating that.

Dressed in a red and black leather jacket, Shani drew up along the bar and drew the bartender's attention. With a hand in the air, she declared, "A round for my friends!" Not top shelf, obviously, but free booze was free booze -- or whatever they ordered that was on the customary 'on the house' menu. She set a chit down atop the counter as people erupted in cheers. A means for them to settle the tab later. Oh, and for a 'modest' tip for all the work she'd provided -- to help deter any unexpected 'transaction fees.' Some people were truly surprised to find a 'clean glass fee' on their bill at times. This was Nar Shaddaa, you had to know how to play the game.

Russet rings fell on a muscular man that stood close by in the crowd. Shani smiled to herself, a hand ever so slowly sliding down her belly as she leaned back against the bar. It was the sound off to the side that drew her attention, however. Always time to make intimate friends. The night had just begun. So, she scooped up a drink and headed off toward the sabacc table. There'd been a small exclamation of surprise at someone noticing their drink was missing, but she didn't bother to figure out who or what the fuss was about.

"Go for broke, I like it," Shani purred as she dropped herself into a seat at the table. "Deal me in, House, I'm good for it." An easy smile was cast in the Mirialan's direction. Credits pulled from her pocket were 'sprinkled' over the table from between her fingers, and snatched out of the air before they struck the surface. He gave her cards, she tossed the slips into the pot. Simple transaction.

"So," she turned to look at the feisty one of the table, Devin, "what's a pretty mouth like you doing at a sabacc table like this?"

Devin Virell

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder
​

“Well, well, look who just showed up to make my lucky streak feel threatened.”

Devin’s gaze flicked up from the table, wide from the glitterstim buzzing, tracking the newcomers' approach like a starfighter lining up a target. Red and black huh.. colors that screamed trouble and style. She moved like she owned the light, and maybe she did. So, he decided to let himself mirror just a fraction of that confidence, leaning back with the air of someone completely in their element.

His brow lifted, the lazy curl of another smile appearing. “Yeah?” he drawled, pearly teeth flashing, just enough to hint at amusement. “Are you still going to feel bad if that happens, though?” A hand tapped the edge of the table like he wasn’t thinking. “Not that I care.. much. But I do like an audience that actually notices.”

Eyes sharp, he continued following shifts in others around the table. The Nitko’s jaw was a fraction too tight now, almost comical. And whatever the other human was muttering, it was barely audible. Then, back up to the woman who just claimed the spotlight.

“Slide me another, House.” The dealer slid a card toward him, and Devin snagged it halfway. Fingers lingered on the edge, feeling the old school grain. A quick peek at the card’s corner revealed nothing but potential.

“I could say I’m here to practice my refined Corellian etiquette. Or, you know.. statistically speaking, I’m just chasing a thrill I probably shouldn’t have. Odds are against me, and I like those odds. Watching strangers sweat? That’s the real prize.”

Devin let his focus purposely drift toward her own hand for a heartbeat. “You,” tilting his head just so, “are you in this for the fun? Or do you secretly enjoy making folks nervous? Asking for a friend. Mostly me. Definitely me.” A shrug, one shoulder rising as if to punctuate the question.

“Name’s important in games like this. Mine’s Devin. What’s yours.. or are we doing this like a proper mystery?”

​

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire: Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, and Black Boots​

"I'd feel real bad if I took all your credits," Shani replied without missing a beat. There was a fraction of a second's pause for a smile. "Honest. But that's what keeps it exciting, isn't it? Knowing you could lose it all in an instant. One bad bet and it's over."

Devin had swagger. Whether he had the skills or luck to back it up, he talked a very good game. Leagues better than the rest at the table.

"One for the money, two for the show, House." Shani's russet gaze turned back to the Dealer. Not that she had bothered to look at the first card yet. There was still one to go. Besides, the anticipation was more fun when you were kept in the dark for as long as possible and then had to make a snap decision. Who needed minutes to study the cards and formulate a plan. This was sabacc! Worst that happened was you lose credits. The money wasn't even the most enticing part of the game!

Devin sought her attention, and she was happy to grant it. Seemed Mister Confidence over there thought he was dealing with the statistically short end of the stick. Sure, chance had a hand in things, but not any more than skill. Skill with the cards, and the people; and Shani thought the man certainly knew how to rattle cages.

Laughter followed his question about her motives. "The thrill, of course! Always the thrill. You can't play a good game or race a good swoop if you don't have the mind for it, but you never know what'll happen even when you have it all planned out. What twist will life throw at you? What decision do you have to make in a split second? How much will it cost you? Risk, gentlemen! That's the thing." Shani clasped her hands atop the table and leaned forward, her eyes slowly scanning those present. "I hope you all came prepared."

Then Devin asked The Question. Her eyebrows rose in its wake. "You don't know who I am?" A single hand pressed over the center of her chest between the round mounds of her breasts. "That hurts. I'll have to speak to the event's promoter about this." The hand lifted to needlessly brush back a few strands of platinum hair to call attention to her knife-like ear. "Shani Ryder." A beat. "Red Dagger? Swoop Racing. You gentlemen do watch the races, don't you? Come on," she rocked back in her seat, "don't try to pretend you aren't watching for the next crash."

Devin Virell

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder

​

Well, now he was looking at her much like a ship scanning the horizon for both threat and.. opportunity? Shani Ryder.. Red Dagger. The name itself was another spark in the otherwise predictable chaos one would expect to find on Nar Shaddaa. Devin's gaze returned to her, because she wasn't just another player; she was a variable making this hand just a little more interesting.

"Red Dagger, huh?"

Maybe it was the glitterstim, maybe it was something else, but it felt like he’d been handed a perfect cue. “You’d feel bad, sure.. until I blink, and suddenly my credits help burn whatever your pastime might be.”

Leaning back forward, eyes narrowed in mock calculation. “Exciting, though, yeah, I get that. That rush right before everything collapses.. it’s kind of addictive, ain’t it? One bad bet, the sudden risk. Makes your heartbeat almost feel like.. music.”

Devin’s head tipped, eyes narrowing in the lazy way of someone savoring sound. So, a thrill chaser, through and through. One of those people who thinks life is best lived at high velocity.. perfect. That was a language he could speak in his sleep.

A small drag of his tongue over the inside of his cheek.. habit, thought, restraint, everything wrapped together.

“See.. here’s the thing. People talk about plans like they actually stick to them. I never have much of anything planned out. Look, I don't even plan breakfast." When he looked down at the table, it was only to check his own reflection in the chips. “Never saw the point. Life doesn’t wait for you to write a neat little strategy. It just.. moves, yeah?”

A breath of laughter, except that this one was fueled by memory. “Split second decisions. Yeah. I know all about those too.”

He tapped a fingertip against a credit chip.. once, twice.

“House..” A single syllable stretched, attention bound to her as if she were the real game here. “Hit.”

The card slid free of the deck. A whisper across. Maybe a promise. Or a warning? You never knew until the damage was done. But this time he didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, he just let it settle.

Angled right at him, it was daring to be lifted. He felt Shani watching, felt the others watching too. Surely, she would understand, right? The outcome didn't matter.. it was that one little moment before. A thumb brushed the corner. Funny thing, those cards. Little slices of probability that had more weight than all the choices he'd made in the past month combined. Lifting the edge, it was just barely enough for a tiny glimpse. Time to decide on how honest he was being with himself tonight? Not yet.

“..Well now. Guess the night really wants to see how stupid I’m willing to get.”

The irritation rolling off the Nikto could’ve been tasted like bad caf. Devin didn’t even need to look directly at him to clock it. Not yet. There were ways to listen without the ears, and the table was telling him plenty. Gambler’s intuition? Who knew. Annoyance.. resentment. Maybe jealously, even. Was he talking too much? Sure. Did it bother Sky Rat? Not even a little.

Devin breathed in once, slowly, unapologetically, and wasn’t going to be embarrassed for what he said next. “Gotta tell you straight. I don’t watch the races." Just the truth. “Haven’t had the time. Past year’s been a complete blur. Been strapped to the cockpit. The Imps don’t fight themselves."

He drummed the card he’d just drawn once. “So yeah, sitting down to watch other people go fast.. that feels a little like homework.”

Nonchalant, his attention cut to the Nitko, letting him know he acknowledged the tension, before right back to Shani again. “But hey. You make a pretty damn compelling case that I should’ve started. So go on, Red Dagger.”

Then, effortlessly Devin. The smile stayed put, and now he was more than ready to have a drink in hand. “Enlighten someone who’s clearly been culturally deprived. If I’ve been missing out, this is the perfect chance to sell me on the show.”

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire: Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, and Black Boots​

"Too many to count," Shani laughed to Devin's quip about her spending his creds on pastimes.

"Music, huh? Romantic." A slight shrug accompanied the words. "Just don't feel alive unless I'm living." Hadn't really given it a lot of thought. Well, that wasn't true. She had in the beginning, and ever since then the avalanche just kept gaining speed down the mountain.

Shani tilted her head a bit to the side and smile across at Devin as he went on about not even planning breakfast. Kind of cute, really. "Either you move, or people will move you. I don't plan on letting people get the chance to dictate where I end up." A soft grunt accompanied a rueful shake of her head. "Except for Swoop One, of course. They arrange the races, I go where the races are." Eh, nothing in life was perfect.

"Do you?" The platinum woman leaned forward in Devin's direction as he spoke of spit-second decisions. "Bodes well for someone playing Sabacc. Never know when your opponents are bluffing." Did that mean something? Was it itself a bluff? A smile was the woman's only answer to the unasked questions.

Her russet eyes watched Devin not the card dealt. No words were needed. The others were annoyed, but neither she nor her talkative new friend care what they thought. Maybe if they had said something interest, or thrown in a handful of credits to spice the pot. After several seconds, her middle finger tapped the table twice to signal the dealer to give her a third as well. "Three to get ready." She tossed in a few credits still having not even looked at the cards.

An eyebrow raised, her head turned slightly to the side at Devin's comment of fighting Imps. Fighter pilot, huh? Now they had something in common.

"For you? Someone that lives on the edge? Competition. Watching to see if there's any new techniques you need to handle out there in the world. See if someone tries the same counter you thought of, and if it works. When you're living at lightspeed, you don't usually get a do-over; so if someone else does it first it might spare you a life." Shani chuckled, seemingly not bothered discussing potentially lethal consequences. "Or, perhaps just to cheer on your favorite racer. Watch them narrowly avoid slamming head-first into an obstacle. Vicariously get your thrills when you're laying in bed. Nothing wrong with taking a break now and then." Her brows lifted slightly as she smiled across at him. Obviously, she expected he'd be cheering for her.

"But now you have my curiosity, Devin. I'd love to see your starfighter someday. I happen to have a s fighter, myself. Perhaps we could take to the stars together for a spin?"

Devin Virell

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder
​

Devin found himself enjoying the moment. How could he not? Buzzing at the edges of perception, heightened nerve endings in his body, accompanied with synthetic perfume in the air.. everything wrapped around him warmly. The view wasn't so bad either. Credits stacked in front of the players.

Too many to count? That sounded familiar. He'd been living in the fast lane long before tonight.

One eye arched at the word romantic. It even made his shoulders shift. That had never quite been his wheelhouse. "Not so sure about romantic. I’ve never been one for candles of soft confessions.” He did engines, adrenaline, and anything else that could kill in the blink of an eye.

“Alive, yeah, but don’t confuse it with.. the other stuff. Not my speed.”

Little quirks of the world around him fought for his attention, whether it was the way someone shifted in the background, a flickering like. But his focus stayed true, ahead, on the only true competition he saw at the sabacc table.

The chuckle that left him hummed with challenge. “You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” There was no hesitation in him; he already expected to win tonight. “I like people who make life fun and interesting without even trying.”

Could Red Dagger actually handle the chaos, or was this just smoke and mirrors? Either way, part of him was ready to find out.

“And I think I like the cut of your logic. Life doesn’t usually hand out practice runs, so why not study the chaos where you can?”

The dealer’s hand moved, sweeping the frayed deck into a neat stack. “New hand, same stakes,” the Mirilan announced. Definitely not the instant buzz of holo-cards. These old school decks didn’t quite have a pulse. The game had shifted, and Devin found himself unbothered. Tossing words like sparks into the air, daring each other to catch them. He could entertain this for a while.

Two fresh cards crossed the table while he was already thinking three steps ahead, enjoying the scenery along the way. He slid back into the rhythm of the conversation as if he’d never left. “That’s.. smart. And frustrating. Almost makes me want to see how far you’ll push it tonight. Not just the cards, but me too.”

His chair squeaked back against the floor. “Vicarious you say.. from a.. safe spot. That’s one way to keep a heart beating without risking life and limb. Efficiency in adrenaline, even.” A half smirk pulled at the corner of his lips like a secret promise. ”Makes it sound lonely on the sidelines though. I’m not sure I can fully commit to that spectator role. I’ve got a problem with turning every thrill into a gamble."

A hand quickly shot up just as a server wove past, fingers curling around the edge of their tray. “A pair of Corellian whiskeys. Neat. Make it quick, or I’ll find another way to get it.” The server’s eyes flicked to the stacked credits before leaving.

Silence fell over him. Maybe the longest stretch since he’d slid into the chair. The pilot’s mind wasn’t racing though. No point in lying. Truth tended to follow you around, like an annoying astromech droid. Well, unless it kept you out of Imperial trouble, he supposed. Then the truth could be flexible!

“Only ship I really know.. is parked on Odessa right now. My X-Wing,”

Like that flicker of thrusters before takeoff, he continued, “Striker Four.” A wink landed with his official call sign to seal it. “I’m sure there’s a way though. There always is. If you’re willing to push the limits.. I could make it happen, Shani.” A few credit chips landed into the pot with a clink. "I also have a bad habit of testing limits," he admitted, "usually because I can't help myself. Think you'd enjoy that, or think I'd drive you crazy? I highly doubt you'd want to share a cockpit with me."

Two crystal vessels, filled with amber, were placed before them by the returning server. Devin's fingers curled around the glass before lifting it toward her. "Here's to testing the limits of our desires."

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire: Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, and Black Boots​

Shani lifted the glass she'd brought to the table to take a drink as she watched Devin over the rim.

A throaty hum accompanied Devin describing himself as anything but a romantic. Such unspoken promises. True, he wasn't as built as that slab of muscle she'd seen earlier, but the man in front of her was far from being hard on the eyes.

With a slow roll and tilt of the head, Shani's russet rings fell on the Dealer and the cards they stacked. Just because she was a thrill-seeker and not hurting for credits didn't mean she trusted the House on Nar Shaddaa far as she could throw it. A snorted laugh preceded her tossing in new credits into the pile.

The knife-eared woman suddenly leaned forward over the table with a grin. Her gaze was only for Devin, not the least bit curious or bothered by any looks from the rest. "I'll push you to the limit." With that, she settled back down in her chair as though nothing had happened. With a laugh as one hand ran through her hair.

Then, after his order, Devin went quiet from her invitation. Or demand. Probably both. Only for a moment, but enough to notice it. Enough for the rest to feel a little of that annoyance fade, perhaps, hoping the talking was done. Only for it to come roaring back, of course. Poor sods.

"Odessa?" Why in the nine hells was it all the way over there? The corner of her lips pulled back and her brow lowered to reflect the unasked question. She'd only barely held back. Because it resonated with certain... allegations directed at herself. Now that was unexpected. They have that much in common as well? She used the publicity to her advantage, and he used anonymity to his?

"Are you implying I couldn't handle the pressure, Devin?" Shani tilted her chin higher with a smirk cut across her face. "You don't need to taunt me into a good time. Sounds like trouble, and I excel at trouble." The smile lightened for half a second before she added, "Oh, but don't eat a heavy meal before we go. Wouldn't want you spewing up in the same cockpit as me." Now she was the one implying something, but only in good fun.

Shani lifted her nearly empty glass to meet Devin's toast. "To testing our desires." With that, she threw the rest of the drink back and slapped the glass down on the table. A Cheshire's smile surfaced at having broken the concentration of others at the table from the sound.

"Beautiful," the glass was suddenly lifted overhead for a servant to see, "I could use another. Something strong. This one was a bit floral." Her eyes drifted over toward Devin once more. A slight shrug of her other shoulder preceded, "I'd be more careful whose drink I swiped if it didn't ruin the moment."

Devin Virell

 

[Shani Ryder]

For the Sabacc round...

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder
​

A corner of Devin's mouth twitched upward long before the woman ever finished. Pressure. Funny word, really. Almost like a thermal detonator being thrown his way. "You mean all this attitude of yours isn't for show?" A soft laugh escaped, and his index finger wiggled at her. A dare wrapped in motion; he liked the sound of it. “Look. if I’m spewing, it won’t be because of the flight. It'll probably be because you decided to pull a barrel roll while flirting. And that sort of multitasking.. well I think it should be illegal.”

The slap of her glass turned a few heads at their table; Devin clocked each one, letting them bounce off him like static. Shani knew exactly what she was doing, and he liked that. A voice like that probably should’ve came with a warning label. Wrist loose, shoulders relaxed, a thumb hooked right over the rim. That perfect amber liquid swirled in slow motion before he took the long pull. The burn rolled over his tongue and slipped down the line of the pilot's throat. Warmth spread across his chest as it landed and he exhaled through the nose. Wiping the corner of his mouth with a knuckle, his voice felt warmer too. "I like making the room stare too."

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Nikto and the human toss a few more chips into the pot, cards sliding across the table toward them with a muted tap. Habitually, he noted their micro-movements once more. Observation would never kill the thrill; it only amplified it.

Tilting his head, eyes narrowing in mock calculation. “Interesting choice,” Devin drawled, the warmth from his last sip still settling in his chest. “Ordering one for yourself.. but leaving mine high and dry? So you like taking from me, but not supplying.”

A small nod was given to the dealer. Another card. Instinct told the pilot to lean into the playful tension rather than peek at the hand. “Well, that’s bold. Dangerous. And.. strangely flattering.” A lazy exhale softened his voice. “I'm starting to see how this works. You like setting rules you don’t follow. Just be careful, Red, I might start thinking stealing is your signature move.”

Finally, he returned to that new rectangle of possibility and gave it a look only he could see. His mind began to calculate probabilities, the risks, and potential bluffs. Everything was weaved together with the same rush he always felt in the cockpit.. gut over logic.

The other human let out a slow exhale, like a throttle releasing tension, enough to make him nudge another credit into the pot. So, he wasn't bluffing then. That quiet confidence. A better hand maybe.. just not a winning one.

"Ohh." A laugh threaded through the murmur. “He's getting brave.”

 

[Devin Virell]

Oops

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire: Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, & Black Boots​

"I do what feels right in the moment," Shani replied happily to Devin saying it wasn't just for show. Which was entirely true. Impulse and thrill were things that allowed her to get out of bed every day. If it was long-term plan someone was looking for then you could scarcely do worse than asking Shani. Why worry about tomorrow when there were things to indulge today?

Fingertips quietly drummed atop the table as she looked across at Devin. He liked making the room stare too, did he? "Do you now?" A light bite of her bottom lip followed the softly spoken question. Was it for the same reason though?

A rowdy laugh followed Devin's complaint; Shani was forced to wave her hand to pantomime others calm down and not make such a fuss. "Says the man that orders two for himself with the lady running dry. Besides," she leaned forward slightly with a smile, "the game's not over yet. You could be the one leaving me unsatisfied by the end. Race isn't over until it is over." Complacency lost you the win.

"Rules?" She tapped the table again. "What are those? Sign posts for the navigationally challenged in life." A chuckle accompanied her actually taking a peek at the cards she'd been dealt for once. "Hardly stealing if you pay for their drink anyway," Shani added absently with a more subdued smile. She had no illusion the crowd around her were her friends. They weren't there for her, but she wasn't there for them. They were all feeding off one another; supporting one another in their selfish pursuits. Everybody won. Long as you didn't think too long about it.

A russet eye shifted to regard the Human that Devin had commented about. "Is he?" Suddenly double the bet was dropped in the pot by the Swoop Jockey among them. Well, if he was brave then a little raise wouldn't rattle him, would it?

Not about to let them all stew in silence, however, Shandi looked back to Devin. "Now, reacquiring lost property... say, something that moves fast... that might be stealing, but would it matter? If you got the talent for it. The drive. If it's yours through and through, you'd be doing them a favor is how I'd see it. Especially in light of recent events, wouldn't you say?" The Galactic Alliance wasn't looking so allianced these days. Why not take back a starfighter that'd probably end up stolen or sold for credits? Who would it harm if it went missing and ended up in the hands of someone that could appreciate it?

Devin Virell

 

[Shani Ryder]

Whee

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder
​

Naturally, he caught the way her teeth grazed the lower lip. More or less flicking the safety off a blaster. Devin's gaze darted up like a reflex, catching the motion before he had any sense to look away.. like he was brushing it off. "You're so doing that on purpose," he muttered, leaning back with a laugh. Even his heartbeat gave a traitorous kick. "Doesn’t work on me." Possibly the biggest lie of the entire night. Maybe the entire month. He knew people like her. Devin was people like her.

“I suppose that’s the thing about sign posts. They’re only useful if you want direction.”

Noise was always easier than stillness, so he carried on.

“Stealing’s stealing. But paying for the drink after? That’s.. creative accounting?”

Red Dagger leaning in was magnetic. And it hit him. Of course it hit him. But that didn’t mean he’d show it. He refused to go near the satisfaction line for that one. He wasn’t that stupid. Play into that and he’d lose this round instantly.

The corner of Devin’s mouth moved slowly, like he was about to smuggle a confession past a customs droid. Lost property.. right. That was one word for it. He chose not to meet Shania’s eyes; no, he let the dealer’s wrist, the amber in his glass, draw his attention first. Everything on the table felt like it was there to pull his focus away from her words that were testing his instincts.

Finally, he did lift his gaze. Pupils half dilated, that familiar pre-reckless state starting to kick in.

“Only amateurs call it stealing. More or less a polite way of saying it’s being wasted.”

Joking about it first, then justifying it. True to himself.

A hand reached for the glass. “And if something’s built for speed.. built for adrenaline..” His eyes lifted slowly, tracing the lines of her face. ”Built for someone who actually knows what to do with it?” A scoff rolled out. “Letting it gather dust is the real crime.”

Feeling warmth and being amused? A dangerous combination for someone like him

“And anyway.. if it ended up with someone who could actually appreciate it?” A careless shrug. “Who would complain?”

Recent events? Yeah, he'd been keeping track. Entire family had been on Coruscant. Six months or so later, and he was still running that it through his head every damn day.. when he was sober, anyway

Breathing in the room’s noise, every detail from seconds ago began feeding his mind. Yeah, he was imagining a ship. He even imagined the thrill of claiming it. Devin could almost hear the pulse of engines.

“You’re tempting me, Red.” An easy admission as words rolled over the rim of the glass now touching his lips. “Not just with the ship; you’re tempting me with the question I don’t usually let myself answer.”

Fingers hovered above the cards.. he was lingering on sixteen. An interesting number for sure. Close enough to twenty-three to flirt with breaking, and just as easy to spill over. The game still mattered, but he'd stand for now, as curiosity held the reins. Devin needed an answer before making the next move.

"Alright, hypotheticals.. what's the consequence if my luck finally runs dry tonight?"

Was he bluffing? Maybe. But maybe not. Maybe she already knew he wasn't. Who could ever really know, though?

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire:
Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, & Black Boots​

Shani smiled with a slightly raised brow as if to beg the question: what had she done on purpose? Devin shouldn't be afraid to talk about it more directly. Of course, they both know why he didn't. And the protest about it not working only confirmed it. Otherwise why the laugh? There wasn't enough arrogant swagger behind the laugh, or dismissiveness to his gaze for her to believe the laugh brushed off the exchange.

Was there a driving purpose behind her 'suggestion' to... rehome his old vessel? Not at all. Well, one: they couldn't show off their starfighter skills if one of them didn't have a starfighter. As for the trivial matters that seemed to bar their way forward in resolving this issue they could be surmounted. It would even be fun. Which was precisely why Shani hadn't even entertained the idea of renting or buying one for Devin. Credits were a tool she used to thrive, and it could do so here without legal entanglements, but that wouldn't be as much fun.

Besides, she enjoyed watching the way Devin echoed her sentiments as he mulled the idea over. There was a thrill of its own persuading people to draw into your orbit. Indulge in things they wouldn't have done on their own. A little companionship made what threatened to become ordinary extraordinary once more. An appreciative audience made all the difference in the 'verse.

The smile broadened at Devin's question. A double-tap on the table followed. The slip of a card from the deck, and the soft rustle of it as it slid across the table in Shani's direction.

"You take my hand, give it a kiss, say it was a pleasure to meet you and walk away... You'll see these fine gentlemen again. They won't be half as talkative. The cards'll fall and that'll be the way things are." The tips of Shani's fingers slid over her credits. Carefully, without looking, she drew out a reasonable bet for the round and placed them in the pot. "But if you linger," she added as a means to escape such a dreary fate of a man trapped in a Nar Shaddaa gambling house, "and entertain a woman... you never know. Luck has a way of turning when you least expect it." If he was snared by the allure of danger, the two of them might just find something thrilling to do. Something more meaningful than playing cards. Not that she looked down on the means of entertainment (or professional career in some cases)... but otherwise 'common' people found more than passing fancy in them. The only thrill was when you had a mountain of credits to lose, and gambling addicts rarely had those.

The racer hoped Devin thought to linger. Perhaps they'd find that long-lost ship of his and have a little fun.

Devin Virell

 

[Devin Virell]

Roll first

 

[Devin Virell]

Shani Ryder
​

There was a hypnotic cadence with how her fingers moved over credits. Was it an easy way out? Or a detour? There was a tingle behind the chestnut eyes that recognized being invited to another game that didn’t involve cards. Devin had the feeling she was used to holding every room she entered, owning tables just like this one, bending people around her like it was nothing. But then, most people tried too hard, failed even harder.

Admittingly, he did enjoy the little push and pull, it was addicting, something he craved like oxygen. “That’s far too formal for Nar Shaddaa.” A tongue flicked over his teeth. His mind was spinning a mile a second. “Almost sounds like something a droid would do..” A pause, just long enough.. “..I’m not a droid. And I don’t like doing things halfway.”

The pilot’s fingers tightened around the glass, the amber fire swirling. The burn struck deep, and lit his chest with a flame. A hushed chuckle unfurled into words. “I mean, I could do the polite thing, kiss the hand, thank you kindly, and just vanish into the night. But have this suspicion you’re allergic to dull nights. This little table.. well, it won’t hold your attention for long after I’m gone..”

With a tilt of his head, he swept the stray strands from his brow. A hand drifted back to the stack of his own credits, pulling out more than wisdom should allow, and far more than he could really afford to lose tonight. A reckless heap forward.. just to prove a point.

“You know. I have a feeling the consequences you’re hiding.. are the ones worth sticking around for.”

His palm extended out as he glanced at the dealer, believing the galaxy might listen. ”C’mon. Hit me.”

Funny how a single card could feel like a whole damn prophecy. He didn’t scoop it up right away as it slid toward him. Devin purposely let the suspense breathe, because he knew she would be watching. After a few seconds he hooked his pink under the edge and flicked it upward, leaning in just a fraction.

“There it is, Red. The galaxy is giving me her answer.”

The card stayed where it was. “So, hypothetically speaking, if you could do exactly what you wanted, no rules, no consequences.. what kind of thrill would you chase then?”

​

 

[Shani Ryder]

Card pull for post...

 

[Shani Ryder]

Attire:
Red & Black Leather Jacket, Black Pants with Red Race Stripe, White Cotton Shirt, and Black Boots​

Allergic to dull nights? Not deathly allergic. Now, she was certainly allergic to dull people. And Devin was right about the rest of the table's occupants not managing to hold her down if he left. They were too serious. Too focused. It was just credits! Shani could have had them wager more than their credits if she wanted.

In fact, she just might be with Devin, but he was a good sport indulging her wild abandon. Should never let good company get picked up by law enforcement -- unless they turned out to be plotting to kidnap or kill you, of course. It happened from time to time.

As if the man had read her mind, Devin decided to drop a stack load into the pot. A deep hum behind closed lips followed the daring move. Certainty or bravado? Didn't really matter which; as things stood Shani had no choice but to ask for another card. Double-tap. Then another. Tap, tap. Only then did the game truly begin; Shani with five cards, Devin with three.

Shani smiled over at the only other person that may as well have been at that table. A stack of credits matching his own pushed into the pot.

Fingertips atop her cards, Shani studied Devin for a moment despite his question. She sought a sign whether the man had the cards or not. After all, it wasn't a thrill if you didn't even pay attention to the game -- that was just throwing money away.

"I don't speak hypothetically, Devin. Too much work. I'm already chasing it. Every desire, every ambition, every opportunity." Russet eyes panned across the other faces present. "No offense, guys, but pretty as your mugs are," and they weren't all that, "I don't see myself joining you every night around the table doing the same thing over and over again without any actual risk. I'd rather take bounties and go screaming in to some warzone to knock out a target, dodging missiles and blasters. Greater stakes. No offense," the pale woman nodded toward the Dealer.

"What would you chase if money and consequences were no object? I'm hungry for the thrill. What are you hungry for?"

Shani double-tapped the table again absently, but didn't peek at the sixth card yet.

Devin Virell

(18 is -1)
3 + 4 + 7 + 4 - 1 + ? = ??

 

[Devin Virell]

Rolling first. 23 plz