Faction Neon Dreams

[Quinn Varanin]

//: CT-312 //: Mauve du Vain //:
//: Dress //:

Confusion bled from her trooper, and Quinn didn't understand its source. She figured the trooper hadn't been on missions like this where she was more of an escort than a warrior. She smiled gently, wondering if 312 would ever get used to this kind of treatment - perhaps next time, she requested her not to wear the battered battle attire. Her eyes gently scanned over the form of the trooper, eyeing potential sizes and fit.

Something, though, made her want to include something with the camouflage - seeing that it was the soldier's signature.

Mauve continued the tour, and Quinn was thankful; their back-and-forth conversation while entertaining the Princess had led to this exhibit's purchase. Her eyes wandered each piece as Mauve explained the rare finds. Each one has their own story, and Quinn finds everything so exhilarating while being authentic.

Despite the start of the tour, Quinn found herself enjoying the company of the Zeltron. The woman knew what to say and how to draw Quinn into the narrative of the artwork. They stopped, and Quinn looked towards the blank canvas, wondering if it was a profound metaphor, like several other pieces of art.

Before she asked, Mauve circled and motioned towards the piece. Quinn let herself remain silent as she listened to the reasons behind the art being unfinished. The pause was telling enough, and Quinn smirked. She wouldn't outright offer herself, but the thought lingered. She had never been appropriately painted before, but she had seen it done for others.

The painting had faded into the background as Mauve took the Princess' hand. As much as Quinn wanted to fight it, the physical touch was distracting, especially with their small back-and-forths. Her gaze lingered for a moment before trailing in the direction Mauve had mentioned for the nightclub.

"I can't say I have." She started. Quinn thought about lying, saying that she had a lot in the past. Yet, the Princess had a feeling someone like Mauve could see through her.

That thought was worrisome on its own, but she didn't let it bother her.

Her attention returned to Mauve as she continued to smile. She looked down at Mauve's hands and then back up to her face, stepping towards the Zeltron.

"It sounds fun. Does it include an intimate tour from you as well?"

As she finished speaking, Quinn slowly withdrew her hand from Mauve's and turned toward the silent figure waiting nearby. Her expression shifted, softer, more familiar, the kind of smile 312 had come to recognize, one reserved for moments between them.

"Are you okay with this?" Quinn asked, her voice gentler now, her head tilting slightly as her gaze met the trooper's visor.

She wanted to go, but not at the cost of 312. The Princess had always walked a different path than most Sith and nobility; even now, amid all the luxury and attention, she couldn't bring herself to treat the scout like an afterthought. Her world may have been full of games and flirtation, but with 312, she wanted to make sure the trooper felt included - important.

She'd seen the way Mauve looked at both of them, and she didn't want to misstep. The Princess needed to do something, any small gesture that laid claim to the scout.

Quietly, Quinn reached to the scout brushing her fingers along the edge of the helmet, coaxing the soldier to look at her.

"We only go if you're okay with it," she said, her voice steady and low. "I mean it."

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin Mauve du Vain //:
//: Nearby: Antar Avari II Avaricious //:
//: Gallery at New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa //:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:​

Keeping her distance. CT-312 observed quietly from behind. Shadowed like always. Whatever was unfolding between the Princess and Mauve, it was some kind of back and forth. A game. Fluid and shifting. The Scout couldn’t track the rules. It didn’t really make sense to her. But she can see the momentum change. Posture, tone, even the micro expressions. Those tactical reads she understood. Suddenly the Princess turned and was looking at her.

CT-312’s posture locked slightly. ‘Was that a… ’ Her eyes behind the visor narrowed. ‘Scan?’ She pulled up her HUD. It gave nothing. No threats. No weapons drawn. Just the Princess’s gaze lingering in her direction… No. On her. The Camo Scout resisted the urge to shift. Checking her periphery left and right. No one nearby. CT-312’s hand twitched on the grip of her rifle. Tempted to look behind her, just in case. Maybe the Princess had spotted something she hadn’t? Or worse. Had she done something wrong?

Her body stiffened on reflex with her shoulders squared. Spine tall. Remaining still. Silent and waiting. The Princess didn’t say anything. No scolding. No orders. CT-312 monitored her expression, it wasn’t angry. If anything, it was neutral… gentle even. Was she in trouble? She didn’t relax until the Princess turned away to follow Mauve. A silent breath slipped between her lips. One CT-312 hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She followed behind as they entered the next exhibit. More artwork, more oddity. The Scout kept her eyes moving. Looking at the art pieces at surface level. There was no need to let herself sink too deep into thought. ‘Keep it simple.’ CT-312 reminded herself. The final piece was just a blank canvas. It sparked more wordplay exchange between the Princess and the Zeltron. The way Mauve and the Princess spoke. The layered phrasing. Closeness of their bodies. Even the subtle touches. Not deception, nor direct. CT-312 subtly tilted her head, curious. Confused.

It was the kind of thing that didn’t show up in a tactical HUD. If hands weren’t used to stabilize a wound or put someone down. Then what purpose do they serve like that? It didn’t make sense.

The Princess stepped back from Mauve, standing directly in front of CT-312. Looking at her again. A glance would’ve been enough. But it wasn’t just a glance. It was that smile. Not her political smile or the coy one she gave to others when she wanted something. No. This one was different. Softer. One she noticed was reserved for when the Princess addressed just her. Her tone changed, voice came out a gentler. Head tilted.

"Are you okay with this?" Quinn asked, her voice gentler now, her head tilting slightly as her gaze met the trooper's visor.

‘Huh?’ The question didn’t compute. Her visor stayed locked on the Princess at first. ‘Okay with this?’ What did that even mean? Visor trailing towards Mauve. CT-312 didn’t respond right away. Was she supposed to answer that? It wasn’t protocol. She didn’t need to be okay with it. That wasn’t the point of her being here. The Scout was here to do her job. They didn’t ask what she wanted. Never had. So why did the Princess ask? Why did it feel genuine?

But when the Princess’s hands reached out. CT-312 tensed. Not out of fear, but habit. Muscle memory. Contact usually meant a correction. An order or a fight. Yet she didn't flinch. Didn't move. It was the kind of contact you didn’t want to startle. The Princess's bare fingers brushed the edge of her helmet was... different. A simple touch. Awareness. No one touched CT-312 there. Not casually. Not ever. Definitely not caress. She’d let her helmet shift. Tilt up just slightly. Acknowledging. Her eyes behind the visor met with the Princesses.

"We only go if you're okay with it," she said, her voice steady and low. "I mean it."

She didn’t know how to respond. Her first instinct was silence. It always has been. Let the officers speak. Let the Sith Lords command. Have the mission dictate. CT-312’s opinion had never been part of the equation. 'Why?' Dare it felt like, sincerity behind the Princess’s words. CT-312’s helmet stayed angled towards her. Visor blank. Body still. The Scout’s fingers tightened briefly around the glass still in her hand. Not hard enough to crack it. Just enough to feel something.

Slowly and almost uncertainly CT-312 gave a faint nod. Finally, a voice came out. Flat and modulated, but quieter than usual. “Copy, Princess. I am with you.” The Camo Scout didn’t know what the hell a nightclub was like. She’d probably hate it. But if the Princess wanted to go. She’d follow. Simple as that.

 

[Mauve du Vain]

A smirk of victory slid up Mauve's features at the bodyguard's nod. Trusted by the princess and her keeper, CT-312 , both. Marvelous. One step closer to securing a new patron, perhaps? One could never have to many of those.

And to think, she had been so concerned about having a Sith at the gallery.

With a gesture, Mauve led them toward one of the gallery's exits. The moment they stepped outside, the thumping of the bass from the nearby nightclub was so loud that Mauve could feel it in her chest, like a heartbeat. She smiled broadly.

"Come on then..."

* * *

A casino by nature, the Club Vertica held far more than just slot machines and poker tables. A long line of people queued up at the front of an entrance to one of the casino's nightclubs. A besalisk and a houk bouncer stood outside the entrance, looming over the crowd waiting to get in.

Mauve and company, of course, walked right in with merely a nod.

"Maven," grunted the houk.

"Khurash," said Mauve.

Then he unclipped the rope barrier and let them pass.

Darkness and the thrum of music gave way to a blistering array of lights glinting off what looked to be planetary bodies spinning inside the multi-storied nightclub. A sea of bodies blocked their path, reeking of cologne and sweat and ecstasy.

Deftly, Mauve led their little party up a set of stairs off to one side and onto the second level of the nightclub, where lounges overlooked the dance floor below.

"I have some friends to introduce you to," Mauve leaned in close and yelled through the music.

Nekana Quane | Avalon Gray | Magena Dray | Keys

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: CT-312 //:
//: Dress //:

Quinn smiled at 312; she knew the Trooper was reliable. She hoped that they didn't agree to this chaos because they knew Quinn wanted to go. Leaning back, she fought the urge to pat the Trooper. The last thing she wanted to do was enrage them, especially since they had agreed to go along with this little endeavor.

Stepping back, Quinn looked to Mauve, "Lead the way."

---

The music pulsed through the Echani. She wasn't used to this kind of chaos — the raw emotions, the grinding bodies, with air filled with impulse. She had been to places where dancing and even drinking occurred, but nothing like this. Her eyes widened slightly as she watched the way bodies twisted and moved in the strobe lighting.

Mauve leaning in, nearly shouting, drew the girl from her thoughts.

Looking at the Zeltron, Quinn wondered if Mauve had often explored this place. She suddenly realized that maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew. Though her face betrayed her feelings as she smiled and leaned into Mauve while speaking.

"Friends?" she called back, though her gaze drifted to the balcony — a subtle tell of her nerves.

Quinn frowned slightly, primarily out of feeling out of place. Maybe coming to a place like this was a mistake, but they were here already. Quinn's smile returned as she looked back at Mauve.

"You know a lot of people?" Quinn studied her reaction. Mauve could be more connected than Quinn initially perceived. This woman would be her gateway into the underworld of the galaxy. This thought caused her lips to curl into a wider smile as she covered her lips to laugh slightly.

The atmosphere was intoxicating, and Quinn felt her nerves slowly fade as she glanced around for 312. It took a minute as the people that were moving about them obscured the Princess' view. She held her breath until the helmet broke through the crowd. Quinn exhaled the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. That small semblance of safety wrapped around her and she felt secure again. Looking to their guide, Quinn continued to give into the scene.

Stepping closer, she snaked her arm under Mauve's as she leaned in, making sure that the woman could hear her.

"So, are you going to continue to show me a good time then?"

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Surprise and curiosity roiled from the Echani, a swirl of startled yellows. Mauve's brow rose an inch. Nar Shaddaa was debauched, true, but this was hardly the height of lust. Mauve had known aristocracy could be sheltered and spoiled, but there was a difference between knowing information and witnessing it. Mauve supposed she had expected the Sith Empire to be full of such pleasures of the flesh. Wasn't their whole religion built around breaking the shackles of societal conventions? Maybe they were more cloistered than Mauve had thought.

The idea of taking the princess to the red light sector, a place truly engulfed in lust, made the info-maven's lips curl up into a smile.

Mauve's reply came, breath hot against Quinn's ear, "That depends. Can you handle it?"

On the second level, sets of sofas sat near a balcony overlooking the dance floor. Mauve led Quinn and her ever-present bodyguard toward one of the sectionals, shaped in a large L, with a table crowded full of alcohol. The sectionals were also crowded with bodies, bodies in shades of pink and red and purple - other Zeltrons, wearing far less.

They rose up from the couch with a cheer as they saw her approaching.

"Mauuuuuve!"

"You're here! Who is this you brought?"

"Isn't she pretty. Pretty."

They swirled around Mauve and Quinn, like colorful birds.

"This is Quinn," Mauve said, with a smirk, foregoing all the girl's titles. "Quinn, this is Iris, Dahlia, Aster, and Zinnia."

Each waved or winked in turn.

"Well hello, hello. We were just about to head to the dance floor, now that we're sufficiently buzzed," said Iris, a short, Zeltron man who decided that his best top would be an open vest and nothing else, drawing attention to rippling muscles and - what did they call them - washboard abs.

"Oh, I think Quinn here might need a drink or two first," Mauve replied. "Unless..." she looked back at the blonde.

"We've got three bottles of black label on the table! Have at it," laughed Zinnia.

"A little something else on the table too if you want it," Aster tapped his nose, smirking.

Laughing, the Zeltrons moved toward the stairs, leaving the couch open. Mauve figured CT was scanning every single one of them for weapons and realizing that they weren't wearing nearly enough to conceal themselves, much less weapons. Although Mauve supposed it would be impressive to pull a compact blaster out of a bralette, none of these were that sort.

Quinn Varanin CT-312