One for the Money(Open)

[Christian Slade]

Zeltros - The City of Sin

The Cat House Strip Club
Club Music


It was dark and rainy night on Zeltros that night. Uncharacteristic for the planet that was typically alive all hours of the day and night. Typically the streets would be flooded with bodies dancing and grinding on one another, but this night it was flooded with rain water rushing over the sidewalks and into the streets to collect in the drains below. Some were even flooding, and the rain was a bit too hard to be enjoying the party outside. That was why every wet, sticky body that was still eager to partake in their sinful, nightly routines was inside the many establishments that offered sanctity from the streets. Bars, Clubs, Casinos, Resorts, Concerts and Strip clubs were packed to the brim.

One Strip club in particular was bustling with bodies that night as the the moist taste of lust was in the air. Women of just about every color took turns on the main stage, though most of them were Zeltroni women and were different shades of red, some almost pink. Those women always knew how to draw every eye to them, but they held an unfair advantage. That advantage had every man, woman and everyone in between looking upon them with envy as their self control slipped away with every drink.

It was like someone set out a cake on the other side of some glass from a child with an eating problem. People were being tested, tempted in ways that they should not be, even tortured by the allure of the women they couldn't have. Their minds dulled even further and their patience grew thinner every moment they continued to drink as well.

What would come of a night with pretty, naked women and dulled, lust filled people?

 

[Christian Slade]

The air of the strip club was toxic with pheromones that were doing the job they'd been designed to do. There were many there, drinking and laughing and enjoying their time there who were lusting after the colorful and attractive women on stage that night. The Zeltroni women were using their natural abilities to their advantage, and the credits were flowing from those spectating their shows of skin.

It wasn't the type of establishment that Christian typically enjoyed, but he'd built up a tolerance to the pheromones that the Zeltroni women used to draw in their prey. That, however, did not keep him from enjoying their physical beauty with those two golden eyes he possessed, which were currently exploring every curve of their bodies as they moved to the melody of the smooth music that rushed over everyone in the room, the base making their hearts jump with each beat.

He'd had dreams less enticing than the women of Zeltros, but he knew better than to let himself get carried away with them either. Some of them liked him for his looks, which was rare among the Zeltroni women who had their pick of the litter. They could have any man, but some of them had come to like him for his taste and his looks. Others had come to like him for his money and his confidence. Either way, they all had their agendas and he had to tread lightly with women like that. He wouldn't put it past any of them to try and take him for a large sum.

Sipping his drink, he watched the main stage as one of the women slid down one of the polls hold on with nothing but her thighs, her back arched and her head and arms falling limp as she did. A hand caressed his jawline as the waitress came back around to him and sat with her free hand another glass of golden, honey whiskey on his table. He tipped the glass he had against his bottom lip and drained it as his golden brown eyes looked up at the woman before she reached down and plucked it from his hand.

 

[Kylandra Zev]

A planet that was known for excessive partying was definitely to Koyi's liking. People in Zeltros seemed to never simply run out of energy, and the Twi'lek admired such a characteristic. So after having finished a high-level smuggling run just a few days ago, Koyi had decided to treat herself with a visit to Zeltros. So what exactly did she find alluring about the place? The alcoholic drinks more so than the pheromones, as it turned out.

Koyi soon found herself sitting in some club, ordering a glass of Corellian Ale. A Zeltron woman wearing little more than what was necessary soon delivered the drink to her. Without hesitation, Koyi drank down the glass of ale rather quickly, and ordered another glass. As the Twi'lek drank down her second glass of the drink, she eyed a nearby man drinking some sort of whiskey. (@[member="Christian Slade"]) A question that came to Koyi's mind was whether the man was enjoying the drink itself, or the Zeltron waitress that was serving the beverage. Regardless, he looked to be wealthy. Every man around here seemed to be that way. After a moment of thinking, she stood up and walked towards the man. Perhaps he could be persuaded to buy her a few drinks. Drinks these days weren't very cheap, after all.

 

[Hunter Yagami]

Hunter walked into the Strip Club, worn from his latest endeavors he placed down the appropriate credits as he ordered a glass of High End Tattooine Liqueur. Hunter looked at the fine females that were around him, many were currently engaged as Hunter had to fight his urges inside of him to seek out and take one for himself.

"Gotta just keep my cool, been doing good lately."

Hunter said as he took his hand away from his blaster without even realizing it as the barkeep slammed the drink down behind Hunter, giving him a rather cold stare as if to warn him. Hunter reached back and with a smirk he drank the entire glass in a single swig as he felt the warm liquid slide down his throat, warming him from the inside. Hunter slammed the glass back down as he tapped the bar signaling the barkeep for another as he looked on.

"ahhhhh good ole' liquid courage and beautiful females everywhere. Hell if I were sane I would try and have a good time tonight, but for now I just escape."

Hunter said with a hearty laugh and then sighed as yet another glass was slammed down behind him. Hunter reached back and did the same thing with this glass as he did with the one before.

 

[Christian Slade]

Christian's eyes never fell upon the waitress as she left him. He simply took his fresh glass of whiskey in his hand and took a sip of it, sighing as it was just right. He then leaned back in his seat and watched as the women moved with such grace around him, the pheromones so potent that he could taste them. He'd known how to handle them, though, and for quite some time. After all, he'd grown up on that planet alone and without direction. He was a product of the sinful planet, and he'd grown wise to the ways of it's people.

There was nothing there that could entice him to such a degree that he would lose control. Very unlike all of the vacationing big wigs and politicians that came there on occasion for the bright lights, cool beaches and pretty women.

It was all very overwhelming, really. Something that would take many by surprise if they came to the planet not expecting what it had to offer. It was a forbidden fruit, as were the many women there who had no interest in many of the watchful eyes of those men and women among him. It was all very entertaining to watch, but he too would be tested that night it seemed, though he already had been by a few ladies in that very club. A new face reared, however, in the form of a pretty little Twi'Lek girl who approached him without a word.

"Can I help you?", Christian asked, those golden eyes narrowing with the slightest of smirks in the corner of his mouth, which was always present.

@[member="Koyi Zythor"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla had heard of the tropical features Zeltros boasted, and was therefore deeply peeved that she was currently wading through water that poured through the top of her ankle boots.

She had been angrily grumbling for quite some time as hersel, and the recently elected Master of the Order stomped through the city with an obvious draining deficiency.

“Is this something we include in the report?” The blonde asked snidely beneath her hood. Thankfully, she was wearing her Ossus robes which deflected most of the downpour (Not that she usually wore her Jedi Robes, but she figured with @[member="Carn Dista"] around there would be other things to get in arguments about besides apparel).

She was curious, however. Zeltron was supposed to be beautiful and sunny, and on top of that all, teeming with life. Ever since they’d stepped from Crimson II, Kiskla’s Republic Corvette transport, there hadn’t been a single red-skinned alien in sight. The city was bare, except for a pulsing flicker of lights up ahead, and cerulean orbs flicked toward her counterpart for the evening.

Without consent, she pressed on toward the seeming only activity of life on the usual overflowing planet. She really had no idea what she was about to walk into, but one could be assured that hilarity was sure to ensue.

 

[Carn Dista]

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
From under his rain soaked hood, carn smiled a little. Water dripped almost freely from his beard, and each step seemed to create rivers of water, from which more puddles formed. "Alas, unless it hinders our duty, the weather is of no consern to the Council. Still - this is a refreshing change from the city-smell of Coruscant"

Carn kept his pace with Kiskla, and put faith in her intuition to lead their patrols. Over the short time he had known his fellow councillor he had grown to trust her immensely, and often mentally compared their ability to work cohesively to that of Master and Padawan. Although who was who, he couldn't tell.

The red lit building Kiskla seemed intent on entering was undoubtedly some form of cantina-come-gentlemans club. They were two a penny on Zeltros, and Carnnhad counted at least six thus far. There were probably many more thay he had missed. Still, whores and gambling were not why they were here. A routine patrol had been assigned to them by way of automated machine. Nothing more complex than making an appearance on world, visiting a few establishments and official buildings, and then leaving after a day or two. He would have reassigned it to another set of Jedi, however it was good to show the Order that while the Council lead them, they were not above them in terms of taking the less glamorous of missions with all the humility and adherence to duty that a Jedi needed to display.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]@[member="Christian Slade"]@[member="Hunter Yagami"]@[member="Koyi Zythor"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

It was a curious thing. Kiskla had spent a year of her youth travelling on her own with the galactic scum of the galaxy, making her way as she hunted down her mother's kidnappers. The idea of something resembling a red light district wasn't foreign to her. And she wasn't an idiot, she knew what Zeltron meant.

What she didn't expect, was the magnitude. Kiskla had been trained to be a weapon, and therefore wasn't good with physical contact. It brought her guard up and she was terrible with reciprocation; except on Mandalore when she'd even surprised herself with her unwarranted and uncalculated behaviour. So, once again, into the foray she plunged without a second thought.

And all she could see was red. Red bodies, red lights, red drinks, red smoke. She was even sure it smelt somewhat red in the sticky atmosphere of the pulsating venue. Smoke and lights intermixed to make the club seem more full; there wasn't an ounce of fresh air to be seen or smelt. One foot in, and Kiskla recognized she'd made a mistake. Perhaps they should have opted for one of the quieter clubs. She already felt intoxicated; this would be an excellent lesson in focus.

A scantily clad native sashayed in front of her, and Kiskla visibly recoiled and tensed.

Still, her wild eyes searched beneath her hood to the patrons in the building. Whenever the blonde entered any sort of location she did a head count, decided who would be a liability or a threat, where the exits were, how long it would take to reach them wounded or otherwise, etcetera. A hand snaked around her waist and pulled her into the throngs, and she wormed out of whoever's sticky grasp had met her damp cloak. Oh no. This was a terrible, terrible decision for someone who so valued their personal space.

@[member="Carn Dista"] | @Christian Slade | @Hunter Yagami | @Koyi Zythor

 

[Hunter Yagami]

Hunter watched as new people entered the club, one was a male human and a bit short, the other was female human and looked to be the same height. Hunter studied them as he drank his liqueur, making sure to take in every detail and then running them through his mind.

"The male...seems a bit lively, the robes suggest he is a mon...ahhh perhaps a Jedi or Sith..looks human though. He gave off a distinct pressure as if there was some "Force" seeping about the room where others cant usually feel it..."

Hunter talked to himself quietly as he continued his study. Then Hunter noticed the beard. The tell tale signature of a rather famous Jedi actually, Hunter began to think some more...he knew he had seen the person before.

"ahhh...Master Dista...this is a change of things."

Hunter then turned to the female who was still looking around the room.

"Calculating...Strategist...a bit cautious...hmmmm, a friend of Master Dista's perhaps, or even a partner. This is going to be an interesting evening."

Hunter turned back to the bar, leaving his back to the Jedi that walked in, just like everyone else in the place, no one wanted to be shown for who they were...this was a den of heathens after all.

"Barkeep, get me one more, and then pour those two newcomers one on me."

Hunter smiled as he waited for his drink.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"] @[member="Carn Dista"]

 

[Kylandra Zev]

@[member="Christian Slade"]

The purple Twi'lek shot Christian a grin as she approached him. She then proceeded to sit herself right next to the man, with waiting for an invitation. "You can help me, actually..." Koyi said with a smile, taking off her coat that she had been wearing outside due to the rain. Underneath her coat she had elected to wear an outfit similar to those of Zeltron women: a rather revealing one. Twi'lek females were, after all, known for having the habit of showing off a bit, like the Zeltrons. It was interesting to note, however, that this particular man seemed to not be intoxicated pheromones unlike all the others in the club.

No matter, Koyi decided, flashing another grin. "Perhaps you're interested in buying me a drink? I bet I can ...entertain you as well as the Zeltrons." the Twi'lek said, eyeing the whiskey that Christian had drank down while she stroked her lekku.

 

[Christian Slade]

"And what, may I ask, do you have to offer me?", Christian asked @[member="Koyi Zythor"] as he raised his hand to call over a waitress so that she could order her drink.

Christian watched the young Twi'Lek before him for a time before the force caused a twinge to his senses. He sensed a couple Jedi in his immediate area, and that wasn't very common for Zeltros considering most Jedi thought themselves above places like this. As he expected, they stuck out like a pair of sore thumbs, the girl in particular who seemed skittish after being approached by one of the young women working that night.

His golden eyes watched them carefully for a few moments before he sighed and lifted his glass to take a sip from it. He only smoked on occasion, or so he liked to convince himself. Telling yourself you only smoke when you drank when you were an alcoholic was a joke. One that he was trying to remedy presently, which was doing him a lot of good considering he was on his way to being drunk.

"You two need to relax.", Christian called out to @[member="Kiskla Grayson"] and @[member="Carn Dista"] as they passed his table. He didn't know how they would react or if they would sense what he was. He wasn't really trying to hide the fact that he was a dark force user, but then again his liquid confidence kept him from fearing anyone or anything on many occasions that he might should have been fearful or at the very least, careful.

 

[Carn Dista]

Smoke. Skin. Pheromones. If Carn was a lesser man, the combination of everything going on wouldnhave undoubtedly taken its toll (and desired effect) upon his mind. However Carn was a Jedi through and through. He dropped the hood off his head, revealing his calm, composed and above all relaxed expression. While Kiskla flinched at the touch, Carn merely disregarded it - aside from one unlucky pickpocket, of whom had their fingers crushed by the Jedi's hand before retreating back to their drink. It was never wise to attempt to steal from a Jedi.

Still, one of the waitresses, if you could call them that, notified Carn and Kiskla of the two drinks bought for them by one of the patrons. Before she could say what they were, however, Carn cut her off in a somewhat serious tone... "A blue milk each, if you would. And hold the spice - attempting to poison a Jedi carries a heft sentence."

It was all he needed to say in order to get himself some much wanted space. Nobody wished to get on the wring side of a Jedi, even on Zeltros. However no doubt that once the alcohol got flowing again, somebody would try something foolish. With a look betraying her worry at the possibility of getting the order from the two Jedi wrong, the girl near sprinted back to the bar to ensure that the two blue milks were prepared.

As for the drunken darksider? Being intoxicated in a bar, and generally misguided wasn't a crime. Until he acted, Carn had no interest in him, or the scantily clad Twi'lek who seemed to be trying to capture his attentions. Instead of replying to him, Carn merely smiled, and looked at Kiskla.

"Of all the wretched hives of scum and villainy in the Galaxy, you certainly chose an interesting one. There should be a drink waiting for us, unless you wish to examine the building further."

Carn had no intention of stopping to enjoy the benefits of being on Zeltros - Duty came first. However he equally had no intention of using Kiskla's name, unless he had to. After all,the patrons only needed to know they were Jedi, and Jedi on business at that. It would buy them time, and space - the latter being key to focusing on the job at hand. After all, clarity of mind was best kept when a Jedi didn't have someone trying to gyrate their way into their wallet. Not that Jedi particularly needed wallets.

@[member="Christian Slade"]@[member="Koyi Zythor"]@[member="Hunter Yagami"]@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Christian Slade]

Christian watched the pair of Jedi closely as the waitress made her way over to him. She leaned down between her and the young Twi'Lek girl, obviously trying to draw his attention away from @[member="Koyi Zythor"] yet as she did she was brushed off just as easily as she was called over. "My drink is filled, woman. Please take her order.", Christian said, glancing over at Koyi and smirking as he did.

Soon, though, his golden eyes circled the room again and fell upon the pair of Jedi again, having overheard what the man said to her. The force was good for many things, and if you wanted to hear past the limitations of your physical gifts, the force was an interesting and useful advantage that could be used to enhance the senses.

His smirk slid from his face for a moment after realizing what the man had said, which would have been an insult to everyone else in the room. If anyone else would have heard such a thing, they might have called him pompous or self righteous. Christian, on the other hand, knew it for fact. He was pompous and self righteous, just like every other Jedi he'd ever come across who thought they were the gods gifts to the galaxy. They went around protecting the filth that they scorned and discredited as scum from the very same scum. To the Jedi, everyone else was just an insect that would at some point take part in some form of infighting that would claim lives. Lives they had been called upon to save. It was a god complex, if he'd ever heard one. Unfortunately for this pair, Christian wasn't afraid to speak his mind to the Jedi, who most everyone else feared and respected.

"Shall I assume that I am the "scum" you are referring to, or were you regarding everyone present in the room?", Christian said in a his deep voice aloud, caring not who heard. Not a moment later, one by one, almost every head in the bar turned and cast their glances at Christian. Some knew exactly what he was talking about as there had been a few who noticed the pair and guess them for Jedi, where as others were a little confused, trying to understand what was happening and wondering what the other man had said. Fortunately, the music still played and the dancers, though momentarily distracted, picked back up where they'd left off in their routines.

@[member="Carn Dista"] @[member="Kiskla Grayson"] @[member="Koyi Zythor"] @[member="Hunter Yagami"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A raven haired man wandered into the club. Mischievous blue eyes found the bar. Some folks shambled around, heads ducked in shame. Others seemed to thrive off the obscene amounts of skin, liquor, and garish lights. This man was of the latter sort. He made his way over with an air of casual ease that showed him no stranger to such a house of iniquity. More than a few stray eyes followed him as he passed. The smirk on his face said he was well aware of those glances. Unsurprising, considering what he wore: casual pants and an unbuttoned black dress shirt with nothing beneath but exposed flesh. He ordered a Corellian whiskey and leaned against the bar.

The scent of pheromones hit Mikhail Shorn like a brick. A very soft, velvety, lacey, silky brick. His smirk broadened and he felt tension drain from him. Then the smell of lavender scented skin filled his nostrils. An unbidden memory. He grunted, brows darkening. Damn Zeltros. He'd come here to escape the idiocy of the galaxy. The confused guilt infusing his soul only stopped when the drinking started. He threw back his Corellian whiskey and felt it burn down his throat. The cold grip of sorrow seized his heart. He'd forgotten he had a heart. It terrified him. He let those fingers clench tighter. Pain. Physical pain. Shorn grew very still. His stomach seemed to drop away into an endless pit.

An image of Alexis, dead by his hand, flashed through his mind. He'd killed her. Why? The entire club faded. Sound. Light. Sight. All was replaced by a scene that filled his mind's eye. She lay on the floor, auburn hair spread out beneath her. She had a burnt hole in her chest from which tendrils of smoke still rose. Those glassy eyes stared at him in hatred. Dead. No, no. Her husband, pinned to the wall by curtain hangars. Dead. Her children, butchered before the man's feet. Dead. Mikhail's heart wrenched. The image changed. A woman with red hair, smiling. Anara? Probably dead too. He didn't know where she was. The smile turned to a glare of hate. Hate at him. The icy grip around his heart squeezed. Flash. New image. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, lavender scent. Unattainable. He could still feel the taste of her lips. Then he remembered. "I could kill you now and not think twice about it!" The voice was so cold. It couldn't be his. He remembered her eyes, welling with hurt. He couldn't handle it anymore.

Pain blazed white-hot from the scar on his side where Diana's blade had pierced him. He could hear her voice in his head, trying to pull him back to the Light. Her voice mingled with Tahira's. Come back to the light. Didn't she understand? Didn't any of them understand? He couldn't go back to the Light. That wasn't who he was. He didn't do good. And every time he tried to do the right thing people just ended up dying. Numbness slowly crept through him as he pushed the guilt down, locking it away. It hurt too much. He was so tired of feeling. Feeling regret. Feeling pain. Feeling remorse..... Feeling sucked. So, he wouldn't.

Feth emotions. He ordered another drink and drowned out the voices in his head with a shot. And another. He was starting to feel it now, a headiness that drowned out inhibitions. A blissful numbness suffused him. Then some deep voice spoke over the sound of the crowd. Lights, sounds, sight. They all came rushing back. Shorn's head turned slowly toward the source of the noise. He glanced between the man and... oh... he felt them now.

"Jedi," he muttered to himself. Just when he thought he'd been able to party away the night blissfully free of the morality police. His eyes turned from the wonderfully bearded @[member="Carn Dista"] and stayed half a moment too long on @[member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s figure. Then he glanced back at the guy who'd spoken. Dark Side drifted from the brown-haired man whose peculiar golden eyes Shorn finally noticed. Yeah, now he got the full picture. The Dark Side bled from Mikhail like blood from a severed artery. Why hide what he was? It wasn't like they could stop him. Nobody could, these days.

"Just you is a good bet," Shorn said, giving @[member="Christian Slade"] an alarming smile. Blue eyes turned to Dista. "Although Fat-and-Hairy over there might've been talking in third person." He took another sip of Corellian whiskey and proceeded to waggle his fingers at the blonde chick.

"The villainy part was definitely about me though," he smirked, eyebrow twitching up slyly.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

A blonde under a pair of brown hoods, a hood over his head, who had walked into the establishment just seconds prior, looked over at @[member="Christian Slade"] as he spoke toward the two Jedi.

"Everyone has their opinions, friend. I have an opinion of you that is forming, you are obviously forming an opinion of me right at this second, the bearded man and the fair lady have their opinions of others. There is no reason to question them, they are merely opinions until they become reason for action. So far, there has been no action by their opinions. I hope, perchance that you are an intelligent individual with the common sense not to take opinion into action without cause" he said calmly. A smile formed on the young man's face, before he walked toward the two Jedi and took a seat at their table.

He greeted @[member="Carn Dista"] and @[member="Kiskla Grayson"] with nods in respect, before lowering his tone of voice. "Sorry I'm late" he said quietly. "I had to explain to Miarta that an environment with pheromones isn't one to join me in while you're still a Padawan" he said, referring to his overly attached Padawan.

 

[Christian Slade]

Christian watched and waited for a response from the hairy Jedi that wouldn't come. At least not before a couple others could interject. From across the room at the bar, a young man confirmed that he was indeed talking about him, something that Christian didn't need an answer to. Not from him, considering the fact that the dark side oozed out of every pour on his body, just like Christian. So, if he was insulting Christian, he was insulting his dear, heavily drinking friend as well.

He sat there, in temporary silence as his golden eyes slowly slanted, that confident smirk he often wore slithering across those thin red lips he had as he let his head fall forward slightly...

There he remained as the tip of his finger gently circled the top of his glass as he sank into deep thought, his heart thumping just a beat faster as he felt the darkest, most vile, toxic, blackness swelling in him. His eyes began to shine a little brighter and his blood ran a little hotter as he search his thoughts, the faintest image of a face peering through the pool of black, trying to reach out to him. It was that light that he'd swallowed away and choked until it was no more, but still it beckoned him every so often. That beautiful face he didn't want to see. Not now. It was far too late for him, and the effort was lost on a man like that.

All of a sudden, Christian stood up like a bolt, kicking his chair out from under him which slammed into the table behind him, but his movements after the fact were slow and almost unbalanced as he turned and made his way over to the bar. His form meandered like someone who'd been drinking for quite a while, but he rather enjoyed putting on a show. Especially when he knew he wasn't drunk and that those with watchful eyes might try and take advantage of something like that. He rather liked surprising people, after all.

"Well you are just precious...", Christian said, taking a sip of his drink and letting himself fall forwards against the bar, his elbows catching him with a thud. A small splash of his honey whiskey escaped from his glass and landed on the fabric of the man's(@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]) shirt, to which he quickly said, "Oh, goodness. My apologies.", as he grabbed the edge of his duster and rubbed it into the fabric trying to dry it up. He then released the duster and leaned back up against the bar, his golden eyes setting on Mikhail with perfect stillness, nothing about the look on his face seeming uncertain as if he hadn't had a drop.

There was nothing but confidence on his expression as he whispered to him, "I think you're funny and all, but you should think about who you insult.", he said, flashing his teeth ever so slightly as his smirk grew into a bit of a grin. "After all... It's very possible you're going to need my help at some point tonight, my friend."

The next moment, Christian pushed himself off of the bar and watched as the third Jedi that evening made his way into the bar. He walked, watching him(@[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]) every step he took as he weaved his way through the bar in the direction of the Jedi. As he did, he took another sip of his whiskey as he glanced over at @[member="Carn Dista"] and then back to @[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"] just before he said, "I implore you to have opinions!", he said with a bit of a happy tone, just before looking back at @[member="Carn Dista"] and saying, "I just dislike the pissy ones."

As he reached the table, he turned up his glass and downed the rest of it in one gulp, then reaching out and turning it over to set it top down on the table. He then circled the table to come to stand right next to the young woman(@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]), that @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] had been waiving at. He looked her up and down, even going so far as to reach up and gently press his index finger under her chin so that she might look up at him as he examined her.

"You are quite the looker, aren't you?"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn uttered a soft snort, watching @[member="Christian Slade"] with piercing blue eyes that seemed suddenly a touch away from murder. Those eyes never left Christian's face. Not when he stumbled over to the bar. Not when he spilled a drink all over Shorn. Not even when the man casually wiped it off. Eyes like Hoth, except Hoth could've never been that cold. An urge shuddered through Mikhail. He had the impossibly vivid image of ripping the man's spleen out through his back. He nodded his head, lips twitching in a grimacing sneer.

The arrival of a third Jedi was momentarily forgotten in the wake of Christian's actions. Mikhail found his knuckles had grown white around the glass of whiskey he held. His elbow ground into the bar's countertop. Any sense of levity went out the window. He really wanted to rip the guy in half... so what was stopping him? Shorn's gaze flitted between the Jedi. Not them. Three Jedi Masters? Cakewalk. He'd dueled more on Ossus with a fat sword hole in his side. Now maybe if Darron Wraith had been here... Mikhail's jaw muscles clenched as a sudden memory whipped through his mind. Darron Wraith in a suit, accompanied by a blonde woman. Shorn in the shadows, mocking him. He returned to the present and his eyes turned from Christian to the blonde Jedi. He remembered her. @[member="Kiskla Grayson"]. That made this a whole lot more interesting.

The duster-wearing dude moved over toward Kiskla. Leaning against the bar still, Shorn stomached his flash of murderous dislike and watched as Slade circled the woman. Creeper. The guy started talking. Yadda-Yadda-Ya- hey, Shorn thought, he's stealing my lines. Mikhail thought about it more. The drink spilling, the casual disregard, the seduction. His eyes narrowed. Realizing how similar they were only increased his dislike. Why? He didn't know. The guy had just dumped a drink all over him. Somehow, the usual response of ripping hearts out just didn't seem to vibe well with the atmosphere. He had a better idea...

Moving with a nonchalance as if he owned the room, the building, and the whole damn planet, Shorn passed by the little group. "Lizardflame," he said to the brand spanking new Jedi Grandmaster.

He brushed past @[member="Christian Slade"] and Kiskla, moving behind the space cowboy's back as he did. Shorn raised his right hand, the one holding his full glass of Corellian Whiskey, and dumped the contents on Slade's head. A few pieces of ice fell out for good measure. He winked at Kiskla, then made a face at Slade.

"Oops."

Mikhail casually tossed the glass aside. Someone screamed. He wandered into a nearby group of lascivious Zeltrosians. "How's Darron Wraith?" The voice spoke in Kiskla Grayson's head. It was Shorn's voice. She wouldn't need to see his face to know he was smirking.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

The conversation dropped in volume, and peaked in interest. Light eyes glanced up, and she dropped her hood finally looking more like a person than an anonymous being. This sort of environment was not how she relaxed—perhaps on Zeltron’s beaches, but amidst a swarm of bodies with wet boots? No, no.

She was about to reply with her own snide remark when Carn ordered some sort of drinks. If she had been a dog, her ears would have flattened. Milk. Carn Dista ordered milk. Not that Kiskla was one for drinking, but it was a little awkward to consider such a breakfast drink in an atmosphere that likely that had other liquids on their minds. And that wasn’t just a speculation, as part of this routine it was her duty to do the scanning of auras. And like a wall, darkness met her not once, but twice. A deep seeded darkness that wasn’t just here for the night and aroused by alcohol.

“No, I wasn’t really planning on staying.” Kiskla muttered, over her paranoia and now focused on her resounding irritation — a quality that oft’ overwhelmed her other more demure natures. “Let alone examining it.” Her nose wrinkled at the idea of what she’d find. Give the people their privacy.
A couple exchanging saliva instead of digits knocked into her.
Or not.

Then there was another voice — it appeared that Carn and Kiskla were being moved with the ebb of the crowd further from the doorway and into the throngs of the masses. The second voice was largely unfamiliar, because Kiskla had never heard it. But she had seen glimpses of it’s owner before. About a year ago on Serenno. It took her a moment to recall, but she might have seen that finger waggle before. Or that smirk. Who knew what tipped her off, but it was something non-verbal. Her irritation deepened to something else, something that was more akin to surprise than anything else really. Small galaxy.

​

She folded her arms across her chest and some more droplets fell to floor as she buoyed her weight to look just as in control and amused as the Sith Lord who was chiding humorous ham-handed remarks to the councillors in the doorway. They weren’t friends by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t one to be outwitted. Then The newly elected Grandmaster arrived--- not really the place for such a figurehead; and her frown deepened once more.

Zip zip zip. Things happened. Drinks, chides, touching. When Christian was suddenly in front of her, she briefly marvelled at his abrasiveness considering the nearness of two of The Order's primary influencers. Her hand lifted and her own index finger met the knuckle of his (@[member="Christian Slade"]) and applied enough pressure to curl it into his hand, all the while her light eyes communicating what her lips didn't. Do. Not. Touch. She released the assertion when the liquid tumbled over his head. Her fingers spread and she released her grip, a faux look of concern crossing her visage as she looked between the two drink-spillers as one wove away.

"Aw," she cooed, obviously getting out of her discomfort zone and back into her control centre. Or maybe it was the pheromones. "I think you're flirting with the wrong person." With a cock of her head, she indicated the slithering away Shorn. "I think he's trying to keep your attention." Boys. Tsk tsk.

A voice rang through her head; likely because she had her guard down in this establishment. Foolish. Darron Wraith. So she had been right. It was the same fellow from Serenno (@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]). Probably rolling over in his grave, she thought to herself. What had their names been that night? Something awful. Right. Brad and Angelina Smith. Definitely awful. You two aren’t keeping in touch? Heck if she knew -- it had been months since their last encounter.

@[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"] | @[member="Carn Dista"] | @[member="Hunter Yagami"]

 

[Hunter Yagami]

Hunter felt the entrance of a dark presence as a new person came and unknowingly sat next to him. Upon further inspection Hunter found that the person was in fact male and human, so Hunter scoffed and drank the rest of his liqueur as he heard a bit of conversation from the opposite side of the room.

"So...two Sith and Three Jedi walk into a bar..."

Hunter smiled at the beginning of a joke/tale that he would most likely put himself into at a later date, it did seem though that at the present time, he was invisible...he liked that...

Hunter watched as the two Jedi at the door whom he identified as Jedi Masters, declined the liqueur in favor of something else. The Jedi...so...pure... Hunter thought to himself as he turned to the man beside him, seeing he was deep in some thought or something Hunter turned to the scene as he would watch the next scenes transpire.

"This should be...interesting."

Hunter said to himself as he leaned back against the bar and downed the rest of the amber liquid, the familiar and rather tasty burn made him tingle. The next couple of movements; speech, retort, trying to woo the female jedi, feigned accidents, etc... It was all rather comical from looking on the outside so Hunter clapped rather loudly at everything that happened. He chose to remain neutral still as he laughed, making a gesture to wipe a fake tear from his eye as he clapped some more.

"BRAVO, BRAVO EVERYONE! THIS IS PRICELESS, GIVE US MORE!"

Hunter goaded on as other people in the club turned and a few people laughed, others gasped, and some still chose to get up and leave altogether. Hunter knew that this was about to piss a few people off, but he tapped on the bar and laid down a few credits as he looked around.

"Hey barkeep...a round for the house on me."

Hunter said again, making sure that his blaster holsters were unlatched and he was ready to move on a moments notice.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Christian Slade"] @[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"] @[member="Carn Dista"]

 

[Christian Slade]

Christian's eyes slanted to a close as he felt the cool liquid wash over and soak into his hair. His scalp grew cool as the whiskey weaved through each and every strand on the top of his head until it came pouring out across his forehead, dripping off to the floor and his duster. The next moment, a heat washed across his body, his temper quick to ignite as his anger swelled within. Those close to him could have even felt the heat snap that washed over his immediate person, but he suppressed it as quickly as he could. He didn't want to lose himself to the darkness. Not just yet.

Sighing after forcing his anger to subside, Christian's golden eyes opened to watch the cubes of ice that had careened off of his head fall in front of his face and pop against the wooden table next to him. After they had, he remained silent for a moment as he slid his tongue out from between his lips and tasted one of the lines of liquid that had run down close to his mouth. "Corellian Whiskey...", he whispered, just before shaking his head with a quick motion to fling the whiskey from it, not caring on what or who it landed on. He then reached up and slid his fingers through his moist hair and leaned his head back, pulling his long brunette hair back over his head as he looked across the bar at the man(@[member="Hunter Yagami"]) clapping and yelling at them as if to drive the situation further. He seemed to be enjoying the show, but Christian could care less about that man, who would be drinking himself to an early bed it seemed.

The young Lord of the Sith reached out and rested his hand on the back of one of the open chairs at the table of Jedi and glanced sideways at Kiskla...

"You might be right.", he said in agreement to what she'd suggest about Mikhail's sexual orientation. "Such a diva. Too bad for him I'm not into men.", he said with a playful smirk, hinting to the obvious that he found her rather appealing, but she'd surely already known such a thing.

Reaching out across the table, Christian plucked one of the melting cubes of ice up and held it up in front of his face. He looked from the ice to Kiskla and shook his head. "What kind of self respecting man ruins perfectly good whiskey with ice? A couple of cubes? Fine, but that drink was more solid than liquid. I'll suffer from head trauma before anything else.", he said, laughing lightly to himself as a glass of honey whiskey was slapped on the table by the same waitress who'd been serving him earlier that night. She had a rather displeased look on her face after having been ignored by Christian more than once that night. It seemed as if she were jealous of Kiskla getting all of his attention, or perhaps that she was getting none at all. The sound did draw his eyes, however, those golden orbs of his looking up at the girl as she turned and huffed before she walked away.

He then turned his head, a little confused by her displeasure and laughed again, picking up the glass with his right hand as a he scooted his chair back and propped his feet up on the table with a thud. "So!", he said, looking from Kiskla to Carn and then finally to Joshua. "What's up?", he asked with the enthusiastic hop of either of his eyebrows as he took a swig of his glass of whiskey.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"] @[member="Hunter Yagami"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Carn Dista"] @[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]