Fries before lies

[Loske Treicolt]

McYoda's ​

Bespin​

02:30am​

​

"Nothing good ever happens on a dance floor after two ay-em anyway." Cora pf'awd, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets. The thing was, Cora may have known that truth, but Loske didn't. The pilot beneath the pink wig just really hated the taste of alcohol, was starving, and wanted to get out of the dance club. Security was actively skulking around, there was a kerfuffle on almost every floor, and she couldn't dance anyway, given she'd made a new friend in Brain. Brian. Whatever his name was.

The walk to McYoda's was tepid. Being in the clouds, there was a lot of moisture hanging in the air. Thankfully the pink was synthetic, so it wasn't subject to humidity's tribulations. Still, the atmosphere was heavy.

McYoda's offered a flourescent yellow light, making everyone insight look subject to jaundice. Several folks looked polished and put together, and there were some lingering in the corners that looked quite the opposite. As soon as they walked in, cerulean gaze drifted about assessing the patrons and nearest ins-and-outs. There was also a mental resolve that as soon as she scarfed down her burger(s), she was out of here. This place smelled.

Wrinkling her nose, she wandered to look up at the menu. As if she didn't know what she wanted already.

"Big McYoda with large fries sounds like a good chase to that last, wretched drink." She tapped her lips thoughtfully.

"Let's put the order under your name." She suggested. Perhaps [member="Djorn Bline"]'d consider it due to her not wanting her actressness to be exposed, but it'd also give her the chance to figure out what his name really was.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Oddly enough he had never stepped foot in a McYoda’s before, never even had the thought of maybe checking their menu on the holonet. Djorn looked down upon it and classified it as grub food for those without culture or in places like this. The Inquisitor always spent his good credit on food that was professionally cooked with quality preparation and ingredients; but he no longer had that delicacy in these times. He now had to stoop low and consume this caliber of food.

This’ll be the first, much so to this...date if he could label it as such. A dishonest date as he couldn’t reveal much of himself and give out false stories of himself, and his mind raced in coming up with a consistent story of being a coming up actor building himself the road to fame and be recognized in eternity as a remarkable artist to take on the stage.

This was not going to end well. Fake it till he makes it, of maybe he should be honest and come out clean?

Decisions, decisions.

”I think we’ll have to do that, I don’t think they’d take ‘Hot Pink’ as a name for it,” he said with a casual smile, still educating himself on the menu as he still not made a decision for himself. He didn’t want to copy her order even though he wanted to just to play it safe. What about that Besalisk Pounder?

”I think we’re ready,” before coming up to the cashier at the front desk that was of Rodian heritage.

”Yeah, I’ll take a Big McYoda with large fries and a large drink; and then I’ll add a Besalisk Pounder with large drink and fries.”

”Got a name for the order?”

”Jasalo Lils.” Guess that’s the name he was running with, hopefully Magenta will enjoy that.

”Aight then, that’ll be fourteen credits,” and the total was met from Djorn’s own purse as he came prepared with some money tonight. A couple credits in there to last him a night. ”Aight, go ahead and take a seat, your order will be ready in a few.” And at the Rodian’s words they’d select a seat right next to the windows of the restaurant, anticipating for their meal to be ready.

”So...what’s a guy gotta do to get a girl’s actual first name?”

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“Probably not.” She tossed a shrug and simper combo over her shoulder. At least they were continuing the back and forth banter without true names. Not that it mattered, Loske didn’t really have oodles to hide.

While [member="Djorn Bline"] pondered the menu, Loske crouched to look at the toy options. A single finger poked at the plastic to make the suspended trinkets wiggle. They were creations en masse, and reflections of the latest holofilms for children. She didn’t have a young family, so she had no idea what these colourful figurines meant. Other than choking hazards.

It sounded like the order was complete, so she settled down in a seat, wiggling against the plastic and crossing her legs.

He pressed for her name again. Jasalo asked for her name.

Bleary eyed, thanks to the shot, Cora shook her head. “Personally, I’m offended.” In true actress fashion, she elevated the drama and pressed her hand to her chest “You don’t remember my name from any films, at all?” She shook her head and recoiled in the seat, giving a brief once over.

“So, what, with your D-listing, you have to perform your own stunts too?” She reached across the table and touched on a scar that seemed to stretch across the bridge of his nose before settling back in her seat “Too busy working to see what others are up to in the industry, I guess.”

 

[Djorn Bline]

That came out of nowhere and surprised him. Her hand reaching across the table to touch that irreplaceable scar that settled on the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as her soft hands felt his scarred nose. It came from an operation a good while back concerning with rebel elements. Djorn and his team of Inquisitors were responsible in infiltrating and sabotaging a stronghold that would’ve cost the Empire many soldiers and assets at a high toll. He remembered being in the heat of it right after they had accomplished their primary objective and moving out to their extraction point, and then a detonator exploding near him which ate most of his helmet and armor allowing debris and other shrapnel to attack his exposed face. He was in critical need of medical attention if to avoid fatal issues. Showed how much of a miracle plant bacta was, but it couldn’t resolve all problems. Other areas of Djorn’s body had been scarred from their own tales of injuries.

But hey, he was still good looking for an actress to take an interest in him.

”Uh...yeah. Something like that, I think,” his eyes opening up and finding back Loske’s own pair, a short paused intervened his sentence as his face was in some sort of confusion which reflected to his own thoughts. ”Plus I get a better check than having a stuntman, so...if you ever are in need of one, you can hit me up,” and tried to chuckle at the end with a toothless grin. ”Ain’t gonna move up to C-lister if I don’t hustle.”

He stopped there, his eyes still making a bridge with hers. A short silence came in between, was that normal? They just met, surely she was thinking of something to say next just like he was?

”You should show me different shades of yourself. I dig the pink, but I’m sure there’s other colors to you. I think a steel blue is what you should try next.”

And now to see if that was good or not. How long had it been since he ordered?

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Oh yeah, you're a remarkable mirror image of me to be my stunts person." She simpered across the table before he continued, and changed the subject. He'd gotten lost in a memory for a handful of seconds after she'd asked about the scar. Not a Lorridian, but she'd observed the vacancy of expression and slight delay before confirming the reality of the memory.

Before she could interrogate further, [member="Djorn Bline"] caught her with an attempt to get to know the pink-haired persona a little better. She was about to say something, but was instead filled with gratitude when a bulbous waiter appeared with a plastic tray and fragrant food. Delight obviously plastered across her masqueraded features, and she leaned back as if body language was enough to invite the fellow to do his duty in delivering their dinner. Or, very late night snack.

"Order 14 - here you go." The tray slapped against the table as the waiter exchanged the number on surface for morsels of matter. There was little further conversation with the fellow as he ambled away, content to return to the kitchen for another delivery to another table.

Happily, Loske reached out for her portion of the tray, and spoke as she unwrapped her burger. "Thanks for getting this by the way, I'd feel pretty bad if you made the mistake of a Besalisk Pounder on my dime." Fully exposed now, her golden hued bun glistened in the poor lighting, as if it were sweating.

Eventually, she circled back to his comment - instead of providing further explanation on her façade, she sought to provoke further commentary from him. "Steel blue, hm? What's that mean to you."

 

[Djorn Bline]

Time to see how tolerable this burger was, he hoped it didn’t came to the point where he had to force himself to eat it. It couldn’t be that bad, right? He started to unwrap his burger and was stunned, obviously not showing them in front of his companion? Date? No term to apply to that yet. He had never seen such sloppy work from these so called culinary cooks. There was structure to the burger, but it wasn’t proper when it came to Imperial standards. Detail was important to him and there was no detail of professionalism in this burger. Two patties and complimented with sauces and whatever other ingredients used. This was going to be a rough night or so it seemed for the undercover Inquisitor.

”Well let’s hope my D-listing wallet still has half a credit after this pounder, first time trying it,” before he took a bite from the abominable food, his taste buds processing the taste and...well, let’s say they were more than satisfied. In fact, it felt like he has been cheated from his life in never trying one of these things for now. Such delicacy. It was sloppy, but Force mighty delicious. Finally some good damn grub in this wilderness of the Galaxy.

”Shoot next time I think you’d like this on your dime, I’m trying to find a word that’s better than ‘fantastic’ to describe this,” with another bite to follow on the pounder.

He took that spare time to figure out what to say to Pinky’s question. Steel blue didn’t mean much, but he was a fan of the color blue and it’s many different shades of color in its spectrum. ”Hmmm, I dunno. I just...well, you could be a hot blue since you’ve got that going with the pink,” a little blush appeared on his cheeks and tried to hide it by taking another bite from his burger, feeling embarrassed from that flirty attempt.

”Sorry if that sounded uh weird and off, that was bad.”

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“Wow, I’m surprised and relieved.”

Unable to restrain a surprised laugh, Loske snickered at the expense of [member="Djorn Bline"]’s surprise. She’d never had a basilisk pounder, in fact, despite his five-star review, it still sounded unappealing to her. That being said, she wasn’t wholly certain it was real meat that she was eating..maybe his wasn’t real either.

His statement about blue was interesting. It was strange how coincidental it was that he latched onto that colour. It was one of her favourites, too. Which made her sigh heavily, and rest her cheek against her hand and set her burger down.

“It was a little cringey,” she admitted. “And blue really is more my colour. This pink thing is…” she hem-hawed her next decision. The wig was getting itchy, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue to feign a Corellian accent. Even with all the holo films with Corellian starlets she’d been watching, it wasn’t who she was and that apology the blond across the table served indicated a level of vulnerability and humanity that hadn’t been quite as detectable when they’d been uncomfortably dancing around flirtation or whatever for the past few hours.

She reached up to her forehead, scratching at it beneath the bangs and sliding her fingers beneath, teasing the connection between the synthetic and her real hair until the weave of the false began to loosen and she could run her fingers through her actual blonde hair and the pink fell away anticlimactically. “Not really me. At all.”

Ah! The accent was dropped! She jujjed the blonde hair beneath, letting it fall from it's entrapment of a bun to around her shoulders.

She cringed apologetically, wincing at the unveiling. “Blue’s actually part of my callsign.” She gestured with her hands as she spoke. “Friendly Blue. I’m a lieutenant commander of one of The Alliance's flight squadrons, really, not an actress. A pilot. Tonight was by far the most acting I’ve ever done. And..well, maybe not a pilot for long… I’m about to start training to be a Jedi too, which is cool..and a little nerve wracking to be honest. I’ve always thought The Force was this whole mystical thing and I was really jealous of the whole..space wizard thing. A little disorienting to finally find out that I could be one of those wizards. Wand and all…” This was…very true to Blue. Rambling and over explaining. “And I feel bad for not being honest this whole time.” She looked down at the table between them, avoiding that eye contact he’d held earlier.

To try and relieve how she felt, she cocked a wry smirk. She felt much lighter! “I guess you did have to get a burger to get a girl’s name. I’m Loske. Hi.” She lifted her arm above the table to extend her hand across the table, looking to start fresh and anew. “Sorry about that whole…accent feigning thing. On the bright side, I now know I make a pretty convincing undercover agent.”

 

[Djorn Bline]

The wig didn’t caught him off guard, there were plenty of people across star systems that had these synthetics on their hair and other areas on their person, it must’ve been big in the film industry and amongst celebrities. It was until then she began her detailed explanation that got him by surprise which was evident by how slowly he was chewing his burger. Tonight was truly full of surprises and was wondering what else was in stock. It was hard to process all of this information and to recognize the fact that the woman across from her was part of the rebels and was seeking to become a Jedi. He was genuinely developing something for her inside him. It felt foreign, yet warm and fuzzy. He wished she could continue the lie of an actress and not hear the unveiling truth.

But with all this he had a lead. Something to work off from and it was solid. He was excited to find progress, and strange enough it came into conflict with these...feelings he has reserved for Loske. She was the enemy, but Djorn felt something different towards her unlike the rest. He admired her honesty and her talents in able to disguise herself with proficiency. He had to get a hold of himself, was he becoming compromised? Did the locals get to him or was his sights on Loske responsible for this?

Oh, you’re gonna break my heart. The liquor is probably at play here

His hand came across and reached her own, his own palm connecting with hers and his fingers at her wrist. ”I think you’d be better an actress than a Jedi, I’m sure you can capture many eyes on ya,” and a small grin accompanied with that and then his eyes fell on the table. ”I haven’t been exactly honest either, Loske. I’m not a D-lister or some hotshot in the industry, I’m just...spacer trash. Nothing special or anything big unlike you. Just some random guy trying to make something outta this.” That was half a truth. He opened up, but continued the lies which was a drag to resume; however, he’s gotten this far that it would be a waste to not continue.

”My name isn’t also that ridiculous name I gave at the counter. My real name is Djorn and I didn’t get this scar from a stunt which ain’t as cool as how I did get it.” His eyes drifted off the table and slowly ascended up to find Loske’s.

”You should try blue on yourself still, I’m curious to see that.”

A pause happened in between before...

”If I buy you more fries, think I can get your deets?”

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

An audible sigh of relief passed through her lips as he shook her hand, and she imparted a pleasant smile. He could have just, got up and left, but he decided to stay and...he'd also been lying?

"H-hey, don't knock my Jedi skills just yet." She wagged her finger at him before dropping her hands back into her lap and leaning in slightly to hear his confession. This was remarkably weird, given she'd just busted her heart out to not feel so dishonest, apparently he'd been deceptive as well. Probably going along for the ride on that whole silver screen thing she'd made up.

"Spacer trash is a pretty self deprecating title..." Loske observed, brow lofted with a sympathetic head shake as she laced her fingers together to make her knuckles a platform to rest her chin as she placed her elbows on the table, engaged in the truth he was spilling now. "...Djorn." She repeated, appending his name to the end of her last observation. "Like...that pizza? Djorno?" She cracked a grin. "Your parents must not be gluten free...aah, my turn to apologize. That was cringe."

Now it was question time, Loske's specialty. "If the story's much cooler, you've got to share it." She leaned back in her seat now, spreading her feet out beneath the table to press against the space where the floor met the booth seat [member="Djorn Bline"] was sitting on. She folded her arms expectantly, and gave a light flip to any tresses that were near her hands in response to seeing something blue on top of her head.

Moving once again, she drew her legs back against her side of the booth and sat up straighter. He still wanted her digits. Even though the person he'd spent the past hours with had been a fallacy. Was this a date? Would a phone number ending after a McYoda's meal lead to more chats? The idea was intriguing, especially since the company she usually kept were Jedi, cocky pilots, and other alliance personnel. An average-Joe spacer fellow, perhaps smuggler? Could help her widen her galactic view and expand her empathy. She was thrilled at the idea, and gave a short laugh. "I don't need more fries, yeah, you can have my commlink. I'm surprised you're not...mad? I guess?"

 

[Djorn Bline]

”Well, when you hear it so much from pretentious Imperial snobs you sometimes can’t help calling yourself that,” adding in some dialogue of encountering Imperial idealists whether they belonged to the Sith Empire or other organizations with those ideals, it would help more to convince her that he was one of those rogues that was common to walk around in this region of the Galaxy. With her position amongst the remnants of the once superpower of the Galactic Alliance it would help him to gain the trust of others if he were to continue this facade he had with her. ”Oh gosh, stop. That was bad and you should feel bad,” he teasingly played as he rolled his eyes and made a small laugh under his breath after hearing that disastrous pun she made. Where had he never heard that before?

”Well I guess I do owe ya after not being honest for these last few hours. But uh I was in a pretty...pretty tense situation against some plastic heads. Some fether threw a detonator around my area, I wasn’t in the radius thankfully, but some debris and shrapnel got me in the face. I...I almost died had it not been for the miracle plant, luckily I got to keep most of my looks or at least I hope so,” and kept a toothless grin as he looked at Loske. ”It’s not something I like to talk about since it’s, well, you know. It can get pretty bad.” He shuffled his feet a bit and in doing so his feet had contact with Loske’s immediately retreating them back to himself.

”Sorry, clumsy feet over here.”

Excitement roared in his chest as the pilot was fine with sharing her commlink information with him which brought a smile and a blush. ”That’d be great, Loske,” blushing more saying her name, ”I was gonna put the fries on your dime anyways,” and a quick wink at her. ”And nah, I’m not mad it wouldn’t be right for me to vent out when I’ve been dishonest. I was kinda worried in upsetting you from that confession and I am sorry for that. No more lies, right?” And then extended his own hand out towards her, palm open to accept hers.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

It was a shame that there was such a directly distasteful narrative floating around the galaxy, still. By and large the individuals that walked on rocks were pretty unified in the monoculture of being correct. Their way was the right way. Imperials, Rebels, etcetera. All precious about big space rocks plotted amidst the stars.

She offered a sympathetic smile to [member="Djorn Bline"]'s admittance of being impressionable to the squeaky wheel.

"That was bad," she agreed with a definitive nod and folding her hands on the table top. "But I couldn't leave it Djornment..." That was her last pun in her pocket, but the delivery was accompanied by a hopeful grimace that the volcanic reference would land.

Story time was always something she appreciated, and she leaned in when he divulged the truth of the story. So when their toes touched, the was surprised and hadn't been expecting an interaction. He looked bashful, and apologized, so she pawed at the air indicating everything was fine. By nature, Loske was a particularly touchy individual. There were so many reclusive, withdrawn and hardened, broody folks in the galaxy that her affinity for friendship and intimacy was startling to some.

Their second handshake of the evening presented itself, and she extended her palm to meet his with a definitive bounce. "No more lies." She echoed. Her loyalty was pretty much branded then and there, with a new friend and a promise for open, honest dialogue. She loved nothing more. An extension to her black book, and a dedication to transparency. That's why she and her new Jedi Master got on so well, too.

"So you traverse through Imperial space quite often?" Loske prodded as she withdrew her hand, keen to hear more about the definition of Spacer Trash. Especially with exploding shrapnel, not that it was entirely foreign to have space ports combust here and there. People got boarded all the time. "Are you a smuggler or something?"

 

[Djorn Bline]

”Oh, gosh...yeah, you owe me some nuggets for that one. I was hoping that wouldn’t cross your mind,” a little laugh from his breath as he looked down at the table and shook his head before looking back at the attractive lieutenant. His heart was in conflict from this whole predicament he was in, but he wouldn’t crack. Not just yet. He blamed the alcohol they had earlier, that was a good way to reject any sort of fault he had on himself. Yes, she was the enemy; however, she was real. She was honest. She literally gave up her perfect disguise out of compassion for him. Another would’ve kept up the gig and get somewhere else with this before it could be stopped. That was one thing he shared with her: compassion. Sure maybe he was tough and was highly harsh on his own comrades to meet his own standards of how he operated to give immense progress to the Emperor, but he wasn’t one to throw away lives as if they were fodder.

As much as others outside the Empire thought of him, he was human. He still had emotions. Just sadly he was starting to feel something for Loske after what she had done. Maybe he found the pinky actress as a one time, fun encounter, but Loske? That was...

Oh, feth...don’t tell me...please

They shook hands, feeling her palm in his again. Soft hands as opposed to his own that were kind of rough in some spots. ”Uh it’s rarely I ever step foot in that hellhole. The best places to hit are on their frontiers, take a gambit on some conquered place that they’re developing. Though I’ve been in some other parts just whenever you hit Sith space you’re making a lot of cash right there,” his fingers reached and plucked some fries from his order, eating more than two at a time. Needed something to distract the feels he was beginning to harbor. ”And well yes, but also no. I do odd jobs here and there. Smuggling, freelancing, some security work here and there. I’d suck as a mercenary though. That’s outta question; you gotta have the fancy armor and gadgets to make it far in there. Otherwise you might as well be some low paid thug for a Hutt.”

Talking about himself was getting boring, he wanted to know more of Loske.

”So...what about you? Ever tried auditioning for the big screen?” His eyebrows were raised twice with a grin, teasing her for the facade she pulled out smoothly on him. Something else to learn about for what he does. Learning from the enemy, very interesting.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The Outer Rim was the perfect place for citizens to traverse through the stars picking up odd jobs without quarry or qualm. People always needed someone to do something. She nodded along to his explanation sagely and let out an appreciative chuckle at the illustration of a successful mercenary. The picture was easy to conceptualize.

"Agreed." Was all she said, and took a sip of her blue-milkshake.

"Ugh, no. That seems like a treacherous industry." Loske held up a dismissive hand and set her drink down, leaning back in the booth again with a brief glance to a nearby chrono on the monoculture painted wall. This McYoda's looked like a McYodas you'd find on Coruscaunt, or Chandrila, or any other industrialized planet. There was no personality to it to reflect the neighbourhood it inhabited. It was mildly distressing. "I've been watching a lot of holofilms lately, you know, to pick up dialect and hear an accent in contextual conversations. Also some mannerisms I can replicate...but sometimes they show the behind-the-scenes, and what those actors and actresses go through is pretty mentally harming. I don't think my confidence could take that." She chuckled.

"I'm fine doing what I'm doing, trying to clean up corners of the galaxy so fine folks can continue to watch holofilms and be entertained, and not worry about the clusterheck of regime and governmental oppression."

She looked listless at the end of that little tyraid. "That was a bit holier-than-thou." And cringed on [member="Djorn Bline"]'s behalf. "But I'm not going to be an actress. I don't think I could handle the rejection, I get optimistically excited too easily."

 

[Djorn Bline]

It was funny all of this, though he didn’t find it humorous. The two of them were, in a way, actors. Both were deceitful towards others that were strangers, though Loske wasn’t like Djorn who could keep up the act and continue to manipulate one’s emotions and thoughts. She was far from being...cruel as him, though her character and personality did make somewhat of an impact on him. How much he wished this was a movie, that it was all scripted and controlled by external forces. Unlike actors they had stakes on the line and the damage they could cause to people was something hard to forget and forgive.

“Yeah, it’s too fake of an industry,” while cringing at Loske’s pun.

Just like me

”Some of the things I’ve done are...things I’m bit exactly proud of, but I own up to them. At least I’m honest except that whole bit of me being a D-lister. I think I’d have too much of a temper with my wardrobe guy, person, whatever they’re called. So I’m tough outta luck on that, better to shoot Sith Legionnaires and make a hard credit.”

He was done with his meal and was ready to head out, and was also sure Loske had other things to do. He enjoyed his time with her.

“Let’s get outta here, Loske. I think it’s passed your bedtime,” a smirk shot at her as he stood up and opened the door, waiting for Loske before closing it.

“So...digits. I’d like to keep in touch with you and...well,” a little bit of blush on his cheeks, turning his head sideways to hide it while scratching his head. Signs of nervousness. “Well, head out or see you again.”

Hopefully she wasn’t taken.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

A wayward glance to the chrono once more confirmed that it was indeed well past her bed time. It was almost quarter-to-four in the morning. A reactive face scrunch came at that realization, and she was suddenly all too aware of how fatigued she was after having Solstice Vine pumping oxygen and beats out. Without much hesitation, she piled the pink synthetic hair on top of the wrappers for burgers and fries and left them on the tray for the service droid to take care of.

Walking out with Djorn Bline , she reached into her pocket to produce her data pad, depressing a button for a chip to emerge from the device, which she promptly handed over to him. "That's my direct channel." She explained, and put the technology away once again with a yawn and stretch.

"If I don't answer, it's because I'm dead." She smirked. "I have to be in a cockpit at oh-eight-hundred today. This was...ah.." a bad use of time, silly. She was supposed to be jumping into hyperspace in the next few days to take Coruscaunt. Verily though, she appreciate the interaction rather than studying routes and practicing simulations for fuel longevity. "I'm glad to have met you too, Djorn." She gave a small smile and turned to walk away, "Hope to chat soon." walking backwards for a bit before she didn't trust she wouldn't trip over something unseen. It was when she turned that he gave a farewell with hot pink included, and she gave a light eye roll, turned once more with finger guns, and then disappeared into the night.