Private Long in the Tooth for One so Young

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Location: The Star Lounge, Coruscant
Objective: Unknown
Wearing: Street Clothes, Eyepatch
Inventory: Viper Smokes
Tags: Samuel Exel

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | "Huttese" unless specified )​

Coruscant was a world with its own worries. Streets overflowing with life and the noise it brought with it. The lights and corners that kept secrets and sorrows in close company.

The lower levels abundant in such troubles from a cursory glance.

And at the same time there were people plying their efforts to avoid such things. Those kind souls that gave of themselves to better those around them. Never giving in to the belief that good only existed within an ideal situation. Making such a thing exist with their own hands.

Admirable.

But ultimately worthless.

There were beings and things that existed within the galaxy that fed on the depravity of sentient beings. That waited patiently for that goodwill and charity to wear thin. That struck when hopes were high but brittle. Unstable as a house of cards. Their focus solely pointed at causing the most damage possible.

And perhaps she was one of those beings.

Or at least had been. Planning and patience were certainly never what had been advertised for her services. Quick? Yes. Painless? Debatable. Worth every credit. Also, debatable. But she had earned them regardless. Either being handed them, or prying them from someone's hand.

This latest trip had not been for such a thing however.

Her departure from the group she had presented herself to sudden and lacking any sign of return.

The same treatment anyone would have received when she felt that strange alarm through her magics. Bending the very will of the magic itself to shorten her trip. Costing her countless hours of turmoil and effort to recuperate after the fact.

But well worth it.

The surprise of her former coven at her arrival. The anger they had shaped and thrown at her. The pain they had tried to bring her down with. All for one being. Her caretaker had earned a quiet life away from all the trouble and pain of the galaxy. Had been through enough in her lifetime to rest.

Securing a new place of residence had not been an easy feat. Possessions were of little consequence. Clothing easily found again. The difficulty was in both of their well being. Both had suffered to remain free of their former coven.

Jen had been forced to mend her arm. It had almost been a lost cause save for so much wasting vitality around her.

The two had left their abode, ran far and quietly until both felt a decent enough distance had been placed before Jen had left her mother once more. To earn enough to provide for the woman that had given so much to free her from the clutches of their sisters.

Jen had found her way to Coruscant for the time being. Feeling something familiar within the tendrils of magic that she supplanted to find her way around the maze like cityscape.

She had never enjoyed crowds the way most common beings did.

Noise to drown out a muffled gurgle. Bodies twining in their paths to block the notice of tails. All handy for someone in her line of activities. But the quiet pull to the cantina was something else. A voice that had thanked her. That had appreciated something she'd done.

It made her wince.

The silent watch at the door providing nothing save for the notice of the guard there. And the other guards at every door. They weren't obvious by any means. Beings possessing the ability to mask their nature. Something she had yet to attain. A small feeling of envy as magic wrapped itself around her form and melded her with a group that entered.

The occupants far and few between it seemed. Then again most sought the safety of their locked doors and own abodes around this hour. The passing of time a strange thing in the bright lights of the city behind her.

A familiar voice carried across the murmurs and hushed conversations.

Her eye fixing on the figure that had asked for her mercy on those that had deserved much less than that. A twitch of her lip as her blurry form separated from the trio that had walked in. A small sound of surprise at her appearance beside them.

A being snapping its head towards her as she took a seat at the bar. Her face and body wearing the mask of sleeplessness and old wounds.

Something close to a smile forming as he spotted her. Likely what most would see as a feral creatures grin.

"Bar man. Sohm-Yue-El. To me." Far from a demand, but lacking social courtesy in any form.

 

[Samuel Exel]

Hot off the heels of another score, another contract from his double-life, the intermissions taken to work the job given by Marcella Fiora to him and his wife were always used as something of a ‘cool-down’ period. A time to gather one’s thoughts, speak freely and kindly, and exercise social conduct that would sooner be forgotten if he did not spend the effort to maintain it.

Despite the pains taken to conceal his identity, and who he was beneath the armor, the Force's fickle nature saw to it that he was able to be picked apart from the crowd. To those with the interest and determination to find the trace presence, anyways - should it have been a more serious work-day, the option would not have been there.

It was a dreary, yet nonetheless relaxing day in the Star Lounge. The hectic work-rush of the morning and afternoon was finished, and only a handful of stragglers remained that were already clearing out. Samuel Exel would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the peaceful ambiance and environment of the Star Lounge, despite other work of hunting individuals for credits. To go from hardened mercenary to bartender was a difficult task, but one he had grown used to by then.

To say the least, Samuel was mildly - albeit pleasantly - surprised to see the face of the woman once more. He did not easily forget a face, and especially not of an individual he had given gratitude to. A woman of Dathomiri origins and an intriguing nature to the man, he never had the chance to speak to her more than a ‘Thank-you’ in the heat of battle before. He was keenly aware, however, that his work outfit was meant to be a life separate from the armor. Unbeknownst to him, the woman had already discerned they were one in the same.

Exel did not seem to mind what others in the establishment might’ve perceived as a mildly creepy smirk, nor what could’ve been taken as a rude demand, a drink leaving his hand for among the last of the few patrons littering the Lounge as he stepped sidelong across the bar counter.

“Miss Jenzid, was it?” Came a mild-mannered greeting, with an equally soft smile accompanying the words, “It’s been quite some time since you’ve been last around the Star Lounge. What can I get you?”

Jenzid Channsalj

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Location: The Star Lounge, Coruscant
Objective: Unknown
Wearing: Street Clothes, Eyepatch
Inventory: Viper Smokes
Tags: Samuel Exel

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | "Huttese" unless specified )​

He remembered her name, and the smile grew wider.

A strange feeling for her at such a silly thing to be remembered. The only one that had usually brought that on was safely tucked away in a new home.

"You, remember good." Her basic jumbled around but clear as she eyed the bottles.

"Long time yes. Something warm. Cold street, cold planet. Warm place, warm drink." She nodded with a pleased grin. The smile easing back as she adjusted the eye patch and glanced down the bar.

There were stragglers in the bar, and while she didn't want to interfere in his making money, she also didn't want a random soul to learn much about either of them. Or at least the worry was partially extended for professional sake.

"You, have faired well?" She wanted to make small talk. She'd heard plenty of people doing so in the past when she'd been stalking a target. Had even had to eavesdrop on such conversations a number of times to gather information.

But the ease others had about discussing small matters was alarming.

The want to feel remembered however pushed her to try. As it had done to figure out Basic. To keep practicing despite the confused looks she got. Or the repetition she had to perform to get her point across.

 

[Samuel Exel]

He observed with a keen gaze the expression shift to possible delight, and listened to the response thereafter. “It is a cold place. Far colder than I’m used to, but it beats boiling dunes, no?” He said in idle agreement, as he turned from the woman across the counter. “One warm drink, coming right up.”

A cold drink wasn’t exactly ‘warm.’ He’d opt for something else, something custom more than likely. There was not a given description for what to get, either due to the woman’s unfamiliarity or because she was interested to see what the Bartender had in store. She didn’t strike him as the type to enjoy alcohol much, either - perhaps tea? He had a few good concoctions in mind of which even the alcohol-prone Gunslinger, Kardek, had previously found himself enjoying. Not to mention it was among one of the things he was best at, oddly enough. “Hope you like tea. I can make a fine pot of it, not to drum myself up…”

As the kettle was set down, water being audibly poured and warmed to a hotter temperature, his gaze turned back at the question towards himself. Small-talk was something he was used to, and frankly enjoyed during his time spent here. At one point, it had been a daunting and ill-advised matter, now the opposite. After taking a moment to think it over, he replied; “Yes, I think I have been. There’s been no bar-fights - hell, if there were, wouldn't need to lift a finger - and business here is busy as usual. I like to keep my hands occupied a lot, so it works out. Pay’s been good, too.” With a nonchalant hum as he stooped down to grab several ingredients. Herbs, the leaves. Compared to alcohol, it was in much shorter supply - but it wouldn’t be a high-class establishment without a little something for everyone. He would elaborate more on other matters, but alas, the need to conceal his identity from someone who already knew it was present.

“...and, how are you, if you don’t mind my asking?” Inviting conversation as a spoon stirred the concoction together, a few ‘taps’ ringing out from the side as he picked up the kettle, and poured it into a cup. “I imagine you’ve been busier than some bartender tending this joint.” He added, trying to inject a bit of underutilized humor in light of the absence and reappearance whilst he placed down the steaming cup in front of her on a neat coaster. She and Samuel hadn’t spoken much within the Star Lounge - the only other times being during the ‘serious’ business, of which he could not mention due to his need for concealment. Still, he likewise put in the effort to learn a tad more of her after the prior experience - ‘separate life’ or not, he felt obliged to.

Jenzid Channsalj

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Location: The Star Lounge, Coruscant
Objective: Unknown
Wearing: Street Clothes, Eyepatch
Inventory: Viper Smokes
Tags: Samuel Exel

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | "Huttese" unless specified )​

He had a good point about the cold. It was always easier to don clothing than remove. People always seemed to get nervous when you got down to your underclothes without much worry.

Confirming her order, she nodded softly, putting her elbows into the counter and stretching her back until she was content.

He moved with grace behind the counter. Showing his skill in the trade he pursued. A fact she could appreciate without worrying if it would be used against her at the moment. She'd seen plenty of less reputable cantina's to recognize questionable behavior. Sam was enjoying himself, and that put her further at ease.

"Yes. Will be good." Her words somewhere between appreciation and statement. Inflection was still a foreign thing. But it was easy enough to read in others. He spoke at length about his current state of affairs, earning an approving nod here and there before he directed the question to her.

The small ringing sound making her eyes twitch slightly. An irritating sensation from behind the eye patch crept across the skin, but the urge to scratch was far less appealing in good company.

"Better, have been. Though, alive." Her hands wrapping around the cup to steal away the warmth that radiated from it.

"Had to clean home of... vermin. Came biting. Clawing. Found new home, settled. Safe. For time. Would rather the quiet enjoy." A long draw of breath, letting it out as she tried to express her situation on the sly.

"Vermin not kind. I was not kind." A hand sliding to a faint white line that remained around her left arm. The point of regenerating flesh with magic. The Force as some called it in the galaxy. All the same and yet different. Much like their business if she remembered correctly.

"It is good that no fighting is here. You are very busy bar tender man. Good at what you know. What can do. Here and there." An affirming nod as she sipped from the tea. Eye widening at the flavor. "Is good. Thank you."

 

[Samuel Exel]

Samuel listened on with a genuine intrigue, his arms crossing over each other as he leaned forwards onto the countertop once the cup was set down. With practically no other individuals to serve for the night, he could take the time to relax and listen to all the sorts of stories others brought to the place. No matter how experienced of a mercenary you are, nor how much you believe you’ve ‘seen it all,’ there will always be a tale with a perspective you’d never know. It was part of the reasons he always enjoyed speaking to the guests here when time permitted, and more notably the co-workers he found himself surrounded with often - like the woman herself. Whether that made him seem more amicable, or merely more annoying, he didn’t know.

His head tilted some with the mention of ‘vermin.’ Moreso at the way it was phrased, and described; typical vermin scurried when they had the chance, and this was the opposite. From there, it was not hard to connect the mental dots. A brow lofted on his features, before replying: “It’s good to hear you’re safe. I agree - quiet moments help soothe one’s mind after having to deal with certain situations. I like to think it helps mine, anyways.” With a soft hum aloud, as a hand propped his chin up from the counter lazily. Did she know who he was already, he wondered? Or merely didn’t care?

Regardless, the smile widened some at the given compliments, and more so at the slight widening of an eye in reaction to the tea. To hear - and see, for that matter - that he was good at something other than killing was always a pleasing thing to experience. “You flatter me. I’m very glad to hear such a thing, to be quite honest. It’s not the first skill I’ve picked up, but it’s one I enjoy.” Exel mused. “The tea is on the house, by the way. Perhaps as something of a ‘welcome back’ gift. If you happen to get a taste for it, I do not mind making more.” Followed by a short chuckle thereafter.

“...You are from Dathomir, right?” He inquisitively prompted further. A cautious one admittedly, for the boundary between ‘too much information’ and ‘friendly inquisition’ was always a blurry one in a profession like his. “I heard you sing a tad in the language, once. It was nice to listen to.” Even if he could only understand three of the words spoken, admittedly.

Jenzid Channsalj

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Location: The Star Lounge, Coruscant
Objective: Unknown
Wearing: Street Clothes, Eyepatch
Inventory: Viper Smokes
Tags: Samuel Exel

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | "Huttese" unless specified )​

An approving nod to his comment to enjoying the quiet.

"Quiet good for soul. Good for body. When walk two lives, quiet keeps the line clear." The most she would comment about either of their lives outside the bar.

She had heard mumblings about Sam in her travels. His exploits and more so his tactics. Seldom a name was shared aside from descriptions of armor. But the way it was explained, the details and way a situation was handled had given her enough to base an educated guess.

It didn't hurt she had seen him in action.

The commentary about skills drawing out a wry smile. They were both skilled at other crafts. Perhaps too much so. But when credits are on the table, one couldn't always turn the offers away.

"It's good you have other skill. But this nice. Let's hands rest. Let's you blend." She made a jabbing motion towards herself. "Hard to blend. Not good with much."

A deep sigh as she sipped more. Did she even want to learn other skills? What was there to learn? Her eye wandering over the bar silently. Would she enjoy quiet work like his? Or was it always going to be wielding a sharp sliver of metal against others.

Questions she didn't pose to dampen the mood. Eye rising to look him over at the mention of on the house. Dropping back to the glass as she processed the words. On the-?

"Oh. Many thanks. More in time. Enjoy a bit more." She smiled once more until he commented on her heritage. Gaze fixated on the glass while her hands joined around it.

The covered eye burned bright like a star for a split second. The green and black slivers creeping along her skin around her covered before returning to normal. No one present was a threat from the quick observation she'd done with the second eye.

To him it would seem little more than a brief blank stare with the small display before she answered. The glimmer of magic covered mostly from sight.

"I am, but not home. Vermin live there. You are kind. The words are... harsh, sometime. But full with purpose. Not sing much. Most sad words." She had sung for the Sister's that she'd slain. Had sung them home. Not wanting their restless spirits to linger and cause harm. Or to follow her.

Most would see it as a kindness. Even her mother had mentioned her surprise. But it was the only duty she would resolve to keep to a fellow sister of Dathomir regardless of their allegiance.

"Maybe song will be happy someday."

 

[Samuel Exel]

His head tilted in reaction to the mention of walking two lives. Outwardly, it didn’t seem he paid much more heed than that, but it confirmed she did, in fact, recall him. It explained why she would bother talking to him, after the shared mission at the Factory. He personally didn’t think he was the most engaging conversationalist, as hard as he tried to be.

Moving past that, when she spoke of ‘blending,’ of their skills and professions, it drew a curious expression from Samuel. And when she spoke ill of herself, his response was not far behind. “Well, maybe…if you think of it less like ‘blending,’ it might come more naturally. ”

He watched as Jenzid’s gaze trailed some about the place - as if her mind was briefly elsewhere on the subject. “I wasn’t good with much else, either. You know, I picked this up on a whim, actually.” A soft chuckle eliciting. Mostly true - he had wanted to support Ela in her duties, and joined her at the front when the managers were not present. It was a brash decision fueled by affection, but it seemed it had turned out for the better in the long run. “If you were to ask me, let yourself try something new every once and a while. Something apart from private lives. Who knows - maybe something will stick?” Posing a theoretical that may be easily dismissed, but could just as easily be a possibility.

With that said, he let out a soft exhale as his arms re-folded on the counter, adjusting in an idle fidget. His next comment seemingly unnerved her, or displaced her thought process for a moment before he received a response. The word ‘Vermin’ made itself apparent, drawing parallel with the last mention. It wasn’t hard for Exel to put the pieces together. Hoped he hadn’t brought bad memories. “Oh…” A soft murmur under his breath was the first reaction. Especially at the last part of her words. “I am sorry to hear. I don’t know much about songs, or the like. But I like to imagine they all have a purpose one way or another - be it to tell a tale, or soothe whoever listens.”

His arm would tilt up, resting his chin upon the upturned palm to prop his head up. “They say ‘Home is where the heart is,’ or something of the like. I tend to agree with that sentiment. The hope of your songs being happy someday is a good one to have. Something nice to work towards.” A pause followed, then a thoughtful hum. “Though, I'm not exactly the best authority for that sort of stuff. It’s different for everyone, but I hope it turns out like that for you. And hope the, Vermin, leave you alone.”

He had bothered her with many questions already - and with the last one, wasn't too keen on upsetting the woman. Ever-cautious of societal norms that he was unused to, his line of inquisition was put to a pause for the moment.

Jenzid Channsalj