Miss Blonde
Trying to be straight in a crooked Galaxy
"You're not Miss Blonde anymore. You're not Miss Blonde anymore." Staring into the mirror of a public refresher, Patricia was talking to herself in a tone that made even her uncertain.
"You. Are Not. Miss Blonde." but when she stared in the mirror, all that stared back was the gas mask that had claimed thousands of lives.
Shaking her head, the ex crime lord splashed a bit of water in her face and then exhaled a heavy and relaxing sigh. Her surroundings were dark, dim, and otherwise melancholy in the aesthetic tone they took. Half functioning stalls lined dilapidated walls made visible only by a fluttering light that disturb the fluorescent glow of the room. It reeked of desperation, all of it. It smelt not only of filth but the certainty that whoever found themselves here without a job or purpose, well they might as well of been dead to the Galaxy.
Thankfully though, Patricia was here with a purpose. She was here on a job for her new employers, The Outer Rim Coalition. Honestly she couldn't really care less about them, but since her retirement from the criminal underworld she spent the majority of her time raising her children at home. Hell, even now she looked like she was ready to burst with the child she currently carried in her womb. But just because she was retired from that life, it didn't mean she wasn't going to work. Part time was more than enough for her. A job here and there would suffice just fine.
And today's job? Today's job was simple. Find and recover an old manuscript that might of been written by a rather famous individual she herself had experience with in her lifetime. Here was the thing with manuscripts though, they were all so easily forged. So she had teamed up with another individual working with the coalition, and with her help they could not only track down the object but authenticate it as well.
[member="Cear'bhaill"] was the said individual and now that all the exposition was taken care of, it was time to hit it. Stepping out of the restroom and into the banging and rumbling bass of a club, Miss Blonde felt rather at home here. It was funny how that worked, she was more comfy in the seedier parts of the Galaxy than she was at home with her children. An effect or feeling that she was hoping to lose in time.
But before that could happen, she would sit down and wait for her partner to arrive. At one of the booths that lined the walls next to the dance floor, Patricia sipped on a bottle of water and awaited her contact. Hopefully they'd wrap this up and be done, because this was not a safe place for Patricia. Not in the sense of her well being, but just beneath the surface Miss Blonde was still in there. She wanted to get out, she wanted to take this club as her own and run guns, drugs, and other illegal activities. She wanted to kill and stomp out her enemies and blacken the eyes of empires through the sheer force of her will. She'd done it before and being in one little club in the undercity of coruscant would make her want that life again.
"You. Are Not. Miss Blonde." but when she stared in the mirror, all that stared back was the gas mask that had claimed thousands of lives.
Shaking her head, the ex crime lord splashed a bit of water in her face and then exhaled a heavy and relaxing sigh. Her surroundings were dark, dim, and otherwise melancholy in the aesthetic tone they took. Half functioning stalls lined dilapidated walls made visible only by a fluttering light that disturb the fluorescent glow of the room. It reeked of desperation, all of it. It smelt not only of filth but the certainty that whoever found themselves here without a job or purpose, well they might as well of been dead to the Galaxy.
Thankfully though, Patricia was here with a purpose. She was here on a job for her new employers, The Outer Rim Coalition. Honestly she couldn't really care less about them, but since her retirement from the criminal underworld she spent the majority of her time raising her children at home. Hell, even now she looked like she was ready to burst with the child she currently carried in her womb. But just because she was retired from that life, it didn't mean she wasn't going to work. Part time was more than enough for her. A job here and there would suffice just fine.
And today's job? Today's job was simple. Find and recover an old manuscript that might of been written by a rather famous individual she herself had experience with in her lifetime. Here was the thing with manuscripts though, they were all so easily forged. So she had teamed up with another individual working with the coalition, and with her help they could not only track down the object but authenticate it as well.
[member="Cear'bhaill"] was the said individual and now that all the exposition was taken care of, it was time to hit it. Stepping out of the restroom and into the banging and rumbling bass of a club, Miss Blonde felt rather at home here. It was funny how that worked, she was more comfy in the seedier parts of the Galaxy than she was at home with her children. An effect or feeling that she was hoping to lose in time.
But before that could happen, she would sit down and wait for her partner to arrive. At one of the booths that lined the walls next to the dance floor, Patricia sipped on a bottle of water and awaited her contact. Hopefully they'd wrap this up and be done, because this was not a safe place for Patricia. Not in the sense of her well being, but just beneath the surface Miss Blonde was still in there. She wanted to get out, she wanted to take this club as her own and run guns, drugs, and other illegal activities. She wanted to kill and stomp out her enemies and blacken the eyes of empires through the sheer force of her will. She'd done it before and being in one little club in the undercity of coruscant would make her want that life again.