Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Kindness and Charisma

[member="Alexia Santiago"]

"How boring." Wes said quietly, his eyes fixed on the painting.

That single piece of art was one of the few things that survived from before the Gulag Plague. It was probably worth as much as this entire house, if not more. He frowned for a second, glancing briefly towards the girl standing behind it. The security barriers weren't much, in all honesty, but then they didn't need to be. In order to actually get to the painting one would have to get into the Estate Plateau, then into the estate, then into this room.

An impossible task for most, though perhaps not for her.

"I'll have to take a few photographs." He told her a she slowly began to fish around in his pocket. His glasses of course had a Camera in them, but the quality was not as high as he needed it to be for this particular purpose. He pulled out the small camera, flipping it open. "You'll have to move."

He said with a smile. "Unless you want to model for me."
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

"Only if it'll get me a discount," she teased lightly back even as she quickly moved. She of course, didn't want any photo evidence of herself next to the painting. Bare-feet took her next to Wes and his toned form. She briefly wondered how he got it if he painted all day.

Dark strands of silky hair were tucked behind her ears as she waited, giving a casual glance out the window. It looked out the front. The museum affair would last a few hours but one never knew...

"How about you, Mister Spalding? How did you get into the world of an artist and antiques?"
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

"Nature." He lied. "I've always admired beauty."

The truth was actually far more logical and sort of plotted out than that. His mother had been an incredibly observant woman, and that trait had passed right along to Wes himself. He'd always had a gift for recognizing detail and it just so happened that he also had very steady hands. Those two traits combined allowed him to do his work almost to perfection. He could forge nearly anything, recreate even the greatest masterpiece, though he had yet to do it to perfection.

That was more of a personal challenge now. "Art seemed the best path."

Again it really wasn't. There was a reason that he chose replication instead of creation. He could very easily make and craft copies, but his own work? Well it was easy to see there was no true art to it, just more imitation.

Sad really, though it had never bothered him.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

"Hm," she mused quietly, arms crossing over that silk of her robe. "It IS beautiful," head tilted to admire the painting. "I can see why he likes it so much."

She certainly wasn't buying Wes' response but she expected nothing less from him. A flash of movement caught her attention from the window. She took a step over and frowned.

The senator's car had just pulled up.

Feth.

"Mister Spalding, it seems like our time is being cut short. Do you have everything you need?"

Fingers twitched, just shy of tugging on his arm to move him along.
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

He half turned to her, spotting the slight bit of panic in her eyes. She hid it well enough, but the fingers twitching at her side and the urgency that dawned across her features were a better tell than anything he could have hoped for. She would have made for a very poor poker player. Wes smiled slightly, looking down at her for just a few seconds before slipping the camera back into his pocket. "Nearly."

The glasses were replaced on his face.

Then without warning he suddenly leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips, one arm swooping around the small of her back to half pick her up. He spun her around, moving her so that she was in the spot he had just been standing in before he broke away and turned.

"You can pick the painting up in my store at the end of this week." He told her nonchalantly. "I will ensure it is perfection."

He looked back at her. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the Senator."
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

He moved fast. And bold. Bolder than she expected. A half gasping squeal left her throat as her feet left the ground, his arm at her back. His mustache and stubble pricked and tickled her face. His lips...

Cerulean eyes blinked rapidly, she stumbled as he just as quickly stepped away. Fingers tugged her robe back down. "What. Are. You. Get out. Getoutgetout!"

A stern arm pointed to the door with an expression to match. There was a slight tremble in her finger that she fought to control.

Rascal.

Eyes narrowed. Hasn't heard the front door open yet. Thank the stars.

"Go out the back. The same way you entered." Lips thinned.
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

He smiled and offered her a little wave.

The kiss had of course been more than just a little press of the lips. He'd been wearing his glasses during it, the glasses that contained a camera. Of course Wes could have just looked at her, but this way he'd gotten more than one close-up, not to mention he got to kiss a beautiful woman. Really it was a win-win kind of situation, something he rather enjoyed. He smiled one last time at her and then quickly headed out the back door of the estate.

A part of him wanted to linger, but that would just be foolish.

"I'll catch you later, fellas." Wes said to one of the guards who stood near him, giving him a slight nod and a smile.

They all thought that he was a simple artist of course, brought by the Senators girlfriend to surprise him with a new painting. She had likely told them that same lie, though of course he knew the truth behind it. She planned to steal from the Senator, though just how she was going to do it he had no idea.

He supposed he would have to find out.
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[member="Wes Spalding"]

She convinced the senator she needed to pick up some tarts for the ball he was hosting that night. Everyone knew Chub's Cafe had the best. He'd hesitated more than she thought. His possessive personality was only growing which meant it was definitely time to exit.

As quickly as possible. Da always said don't be the drowned nexu. Heeled feet took her back to Wes' shop. The bell rang above as she pushed the storefront door open.

She carried a box of tarts under one arm. "Hello?" Voice called out quietly. Time to find out if that scoundrel lived up to his side of the job.
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

Wes had, perhaps surprisingly, lived up to his word. The painting that she had requested was finished, and in truth it was probably one of the best that he had ever completed. As far as he could tell it was almost an exact match to the original. Every line, every detail, every little bit of it was absolutely perfect. There was only one problem with it. The original had been created nearly eight hundred years ago, long before Wes or anyone else had been alive.

That meant he'd had to use different materials.

The fact of the matter was that many of the corporations that were around then simply didn't exist anymore, so the paints, the canvas, even the wooden frame of the painting itself wouldn't match. Someone would have to be extremely diligent to notice, looking at the painting under no less than a microscope, but it was an imperfection that was there nonetheless. Still, Wes couldn't really help it.

"Back here." He called out to Alexia as she entered the shop.

When she wound her way to the back of the shop she would find Wes inspecting the painting, not wearing a shirt but his pants notably part of a rather fancy getup. A jacket and nice button up shirt hung on a nearby hangar, a further clue.

There was a pleased expression on his face as he inspected the painting.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

Cerulean eyes tracked the room until landing on the shirtless Wes and the painting. "Not bad," she breathed, eyes CLEARLY on the painting. Of course, it was good. Really good - at least what she could tell with her amateur eye. She wasn't about to tell him that, though.

She set the box of tarts carefully down along with her prada bag on a clean bit of surface space. Heeled-feet clicked on the floor's surface as she inched forward to get a better look. Of the painting. "If I didn't know better, I'd be worried this was the original." Cerulean gaze tracked back to the painter's face, noting his dress pants and matching attire nearby.

Silky brows lofted.

"I see someone has fancy plans tonight."
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

"Oh yes." He told her as he slowly turned to face her. The painting was perfect, he just hoped the Senator didn't run any authenticity tests any time soon. There was no way any of the composition would actually hold up against proper analysis, though those tests themselves would take about a week to actually complete.

He glanced towards his suit jacket and button up shirt.

Slowly Wes wandered over to the hangar, pulling off his shirt first and slipping it over his torso. For a second he rolled his shoulders, ensuring that the cloth sat comfortably on him. Then slowly he began to button up the shirt, turning back to face Alexia. "I wanted to look my best."

He said as he brushed off a piece of lint on his sleeve.

"You'll be taking me to the party." He told her. "Wouldn't want to be under-dressed."

Wes smiled, glancing up at her for just a moment.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

Cerulean-eyes bulged a bit. Then quickly narrowed. A relaxed laugh escaped her throat from years of practice. "You sure are full of surprises Wes Spalding." Her exterior was calm and collected. Inside she was absolutely dying, trying not to drown in the chaos that this scoundrel was causing.

Oh, he was a funny one.

She'd spent months planning this job. She was a planner - meticulous in every detail for her in and escape and the con. Her father taught her to be the best and she was. She could improvise too, though, it wasn't always her best suit. This man was causing her to do a lot of improvising. "If you think I'm taking you to the ball, then you might as well think I'm the Queen of Naboo."

In other words, not happening.
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

"No No, don't be silly." He waved a hand at her as he slowly plucked his suit jacket up off the hangar.

The clothing he was wearing had been specifically chosen for tonight. The jacket alone was worth almost three thousand credits. Wes had of course gotten it illegally, stolen off of a delivery truck to the very estates that the part was taking place in. One hundred credits at a tailor had made sure the suit perfectly fit him. The entire get up was a mask of course, something to make him appear as far more than he actually was.

"I can't go with you." Wes said as he slipped the jacket over his shoulders. "You're the Senators girlfriend."

He flashed her a smile. "I just need you to get me into the party."

Slowly the forger reached down and buttoned his coat.

"A simple introduction, that's all." He kept that smile, self-assured and confident as he lied through his teeth.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

She stared at him. Eyes tracked over that shirt and jacket and his easy-going swagger. Too easy going. He was obviously up to something - just like she was. She didn't like uncontrollable variables.

Heeled-feet click-clacked across the floor in short and determined strides as she swooped up her purse and that box of tarts, tucking them under one arm. Relaxed expression was still on her face, an easy-going soft curve of her lips. "Why, Mister Spalding, do you think I'd just get you into tonight's event?"
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

He smiled at her, then slowly began to wander around to the front of his shop. He motioned for her to follow, though whether or not she did he had no idea. Eventually he turned around, finding her standing there with an indignant expression.

"I'm no expert in love." Slowly he slid open a drawer. "Though I'm fairly certain most men wouldn't enjoy their girlfriends kissing strange men that come over to the house."

He pulled out a photograph, one perfectly depicting him sweeping her off her feet and against his lips.

"I could be wrong though." He slowly turned the photograph and showed her.

She would of course instantly recognize that he was right. The Security personnel hadn't seen them, but if asked they'd confirmed he'd been in the house while the Senator was gone. Enough proof for most jealous and possessive men.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

If only she'd smacked him on the face those few nights ago. She knew he'd been up to something. Hand snatched the photo from his hand. She doubted this was the only copy. Head cocked to the side as she studied it closely.

"Please. Any fool looking at this would see that kiss was forced," she wanted to sound more sure than she was. Eyes darted above the top of the image to that smug grin on the painter's face. "But it doesn't matter. He'd believe me. Oh, sweetie, I wanted to surprise you and had a painter come over for your birthday. The rogue kissed me against my will and when I was sick, no less!"

She had the audacity to hand Wes back the photo.

"I'm sure the senator would have you arrested. Why is getting into this ball so important to you?"

Besides ruining my well-laid out plan for the past few months.
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

He smiled. So it was bluff against bluff.

Only Wes wasn't bluffing. "Tsk tsk tsk."

This party presented a fantastic amount of opportunity. There would be all sorts of folk there, rich folk. Those were the kinds of people Wes wanted to be in contact with, those that not only ran the new government here on Coruscant, but also extended elsewhere. They were his clients, his chief source of income, and exactly whom he wanted to talk to. Of course he just had to convince Alexia that it was in her own best interest to make sure she complied.

"Please don't play games with me." He smiled. "We both know what kind of man the dear Senator is."

He half turned away, leaving her holding the photo. "He'll have me arrested."

From his inner coat pocket he pulled a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

"Right after he kicks you to the curb." Wes glanced at her, then pulled a lighter free from the same pocket.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

More like kick her into a room in his mansion and throw away the key. Wes probably didn't know how dangerous the Senator actually was. Typical male. When she'd said he was possessive earlier, she wasn't joking. Only, it wasn't just with artwork.

"Don't play games with me, Wes."

She had a secret weapon behind her back and since she hated violence, weapon was a liberal term.

"You don't know who I am. Please answer my question and maybe we can come to some sort of agreement." Thumb silently worked the small cap off as she waited. Again, her visage was one of serene calm.

"A temporary partnership because I know you need me to get into that ball and you know I would like it if you didn't share those photos."
 
[member="Alexia Santiago"]

He slowly looked back at her, attempting to get the lighter to spark. The little thing was somewhat finicky at times. Most of his customers usually commented that he should get an electric one, they tended to be more reliable and generally last longer, but he liked this old one, it had a better feel to it. Eventually he managed to get the light going, a flame sparking into life. For a moment Wes simply watched it, then he lit his cigarette and took a long drag.

"People." He told her as he let out a puff of smoke.

The sound of the lighter snapping shut rang out in the shop, a loud metal clink that seemed to hang within the air. He turned to her as he placed the cigarette between his lips again, a small smile settling upon them as he looked at her.

"I don't care about the art." Wes continued on. "It's the people there I'm interested in."

He wasn't sure himself whether or not that was a lie. "A few of them would make fantastic clients."

If she knew he was a Forger then she would be well aware as his status as a Fence as well.
 
[member="Wes Spalding"]

A hand waved through the air to clear some of that smoke. A small cough erupted from her throat. When she was in the traveling circus with her Da, she'd had to be in top shape. She'd even done the trapeze for awhile, before he pulled her more on con jobs.

Smoking was definitely against being healthy and in top physical condition.

Hand still tightly gripped her hidden 'weapon.' "Okay," she said suddenly. "I'll get you into the ball. On one condition. You help me fence that piece of artwork and you'll get ten percent of the cut."

Did she trust him? Kriff no. But they had to come to some sort of deal. She needed to offer him something he might want or, he'd just be a liability at the ball. And she was NOT going to take a liability at the ball. Da always said to get out before getting hooked. Even though she'd been planning this job for months - there'd be others. And maybe she'd find a fencer not as fox-like.
 

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