Orange is The New Black

[Sitara Qin]

The ship cut through Xasuri’s clear blue skies before landing onto the city known as Tari.

The tour guide was surprisingly…odd. A plastered smile never dared leave her porcelain face. Sitara raised an eyebrow and gagged as the woman began to lead them out of the tiny transporter ship. “A single file line, everyone!” She chirped, sounding far too happy. Her robes were made of golden threads, swishing as she walked down the metal ramp.

“Welcome to Tari, everyone! This city has been ruled by Xasuri’s family for over thousands of years!” She clapped her hands together as she began to talk about history. Sitara’s eyes scanned the large city. It was…oddly enough, very sanitized; as though the whole place was built to look like someone’s idea of a utopia. Everyone in the city seemed strange, their expressions dull except when they turned to each other.

Several people nodded. A symbol of greeting perhaps?

She expertly slipped away from the ‘single-file-line’. Eyes traced over her though didn’t say anything. She had her little brochure with her, plus the keys to the hotel-room she’d be staying in. She didn’t want to experience this planet the way it was meant to be. She wanted to do this Sitara style!

~

Fast forward to a few hours later, Sitara found herself gently leaning over a male’s shoulder, her breath reeking of whiskey. The man looked…uncomfortable and not in the surprise boner kind of way. He pushed her off of his shoulder and began rapidly mashing at his comlink.

“I would like to report a case of harassment.”

Sitara took a step back, her eyebrow raising. “Um…Excuse me?” She began to speak, crossing her hands over her chest. She was about to pry that stupid piece of technology off his hands, but soon a couple of guards swooped in and secured her arms behind her back. She wiggled, wanting to teach these blokes a lesson.

But before she could act, her hands were bound behind her back.

“Oooh, kinky.” She gritted her teeth as she was angrily transported to prison.

~

“As punishment for your vile acts you will be forced to room with ‘The Ripper of Eden.’.”

Sitara raised an eyebrow, crossing her hands over her chest. “What? The Ripper of Eden?”

“She’s only the most notorious criminal in all of Tari.” The man declared, as the door to the prison hissed open. Sitara was stripped of her clothes and stuffed into an ugly jumpsuit. As the glassy doors of the cell parted, he shoved her into a room with only one bed. Sitara’s eyes narrowed, her gaze focusing onto a frail looking girl with wide eyes.

“This is the ripper of Eden?” She cried out, as the binds on her hands fell to the ground.

“Enjoy.” The warden's voice faded into the background.

It was going to be an interesting night.

| [member="Lysandra"] |

 

[Lysandra]

Clang

Orange streaks jettisoned across the obsidian landscape, igniting the darkness like infant flames bursting from the wick of a candle.

Clang - clang - clang - clang.

Sputtering with the sparkling embers, the orange licks of fire intensified into a writhing furnace, vibrating to the metallic echoes that bounced through the durasteel walls and into the ovular enclosure. As the sound grew louder the colours grew brighter, dancing in silence as the noise commanded the erratic waltz. A change in pitch, a hollow echo and the orange would shimmer with an earthy brown, forever moulded by the symphony of sound frolicking around the windowless cell.

No one saw the dazzling array of colours, no one but the lone girl rhythmically rocking back and forth atop a single stiff mattress. Her bright blue eyes stared at a blank wall, perceiving more than just the simple grey stains that adorned its black coat of paint. It was a canvas for the chaos her mind created, a medium through which the ghostly hues danced and wriggled with an ebullient liveliness which would only stop once the cacophony of noise outside did.

No matter how far from her home she was, the colours were always there, always present. The warden did not understand, let alone care for a young woman's imagination and Tari's commanding officer certainly did not comprehend why the infamous miscreant appeared content in her little isolated cell. It wasn't her first time here and probably wouldn't be her last but Lysandra was nymph unburdened by the discipline of men and their masters.

"Rancor, rancor wake her up and thank her," Her feathery voice chirped to the beat of incessant clanging outside the thick walls, "little Lilly Lemon grew up to be a banker." On and on she sung, rhyming 'rancor' with 'anchor', 'canker', 'pranker' and 'investment banker' until there were no more words left for the nonsensical poem.

That is, only until she thought of a new word to sing to sound outside.

'Oh what bliss it is to kiss a Chiss..." She begun again after a brief silence, swaying to her melody as painted nails drummed against the unsettling mattress. "This abyss will miss-"

A new sound; footsteps and voices.

"This is the ripper of Eden?"

A stranger, a woman. A pretty woman. Plumes of violet smoke and warm honey swept over the furnace like a breeze, dashing away the orange flames with tendrils of lavender and gold. Lysandra shuddered.

"Enjoy"

The old man's voice, creaking like splintered timber and a greenish-brown like day old Xugros dripped in the girl's peripherals. Lysandra wrinkled her nose.

Silence. Stillness. Scent of whiskey and perfume, sweet and sour. Angry eyes, glowing like topaz, dancing in the space with misty blue ones.

"Very pretty." A statement, no, a conclusion. A chipper nod of white hair and a flash of ivory teeth beneath pink lips came and went like a flower swept up in a hurricane.

"Pretty; kitty, city, clitty, pity, witty...welcoming committee!" A musical giggle escaped the porcelain skinned girl's mouth as she gave herself a little clap, offering her hands for the newcomer. A greeting of sorts.

[member="Sitara Qin"]

 

[Sitara Qin]

The Ripper of Eden was a frail girl with platinum blonde hair. She wore a jumpsuit identical to the one they forced Sitara in. Sitara noticed that she was rather whimsical…which was just another way of saying weird. Perhaps all her time locked up in the prison cell had made her mad, and Sitara definitely wanted to go home.

Not spend her vacation time with some kook.

A flutter of rhymes escaped the pale girl’s mouth. She looked satisfied with herself though her ‘poem’ made no sense whatsoever. Sitara’s palm met her forehead and she sighed, looking at the foggy glass intended to keep them out. She had no weapons on her, and she assumed breaking out of this prison cell wasn’t worth the time.

She ignored the Ripper as she examined the cell. There was only…one bed which she probably had to share with the lady. There was some sort of toilet and a sink, which she assumed they’d be using. She grimaced. For a planet as wealthy as Xasuri, she assumed they wouldl’ve been able to afford better prison cells.

She leaned against the wall, her eyes lingering over the fragile-looking woman’s body.

“So…Ripper.” She said. “Heh, you could rhyme that with stripper.” A burst of air came out of her nostrils as she found herself amused with her own sense of rhyme. “I suppose I’m stuck with you for a bit.”

“Though I don’t know why someone like you is in prison.”

| [member="Lysandra"] |

 

[Lysandra]

Smoke on satin weaved its way across the young woman's vision the moment she heard the newcomer's voice, the tendrils of deep scarlet trailing through her peripherals like ghostly threads, slowly dancing with every consonant and vowel that escaped the lips of the dark haired prisoner. It was always a peculiar moment for Lysandra, getting accustomed to the new form of another person's voice. Sometimes they were pleasant cocktails of vibrant colours and shapes and other times they were garish maelstroms of browns and yellows which irked the typically blasé Xasurian. Thankfully, the newcomer's voice took the former and it granted Lysandra a brief moment of stillness, a silly little grin plastered on her porcelain features.

Still, the newcomer's joke flew right over the skinny nymph's head and with a slightly confused nod of her features she offered her smoky-voiced friend an approving simper.

"Stuck to me. Sticky, like honey. Sweet, I'm very sweet." Lysandra stated with a firm nod of her head. Mother always told her how sweet she was and the Emma and Ella always said how her kisses were like candy. Although that was silly, no one's kisses were like candy. It took another second for the young woman to escape the internal musing and after blankly staring at the newcomer's hands, Lysandra shrugged her shoulders.

Why was she here?

She remembered angry words, bemoaning her dismissal of tradition and the sanctity of marriage. Someone mentioned her mother's name, Lysandra definitely remembers frowning at that. Uncouth, whorish and unstable they hollered after clothing lovely Lilia in fine silks when they found her panting in a grove in the middle of Eden. How curious. Lilia didn't protest when fingers and tongue went exploring.

Lysandra was certain the other girl was crying when her friend was taken away. The thought tussled her brow.

"I broke Higol's heart." She shrugged once more, pursing her pink lips before shaking her head of Lilia's lovely ladybits. They'd still be there once she was allowed outside. Glancing upwards, Lysandra carefully watched the newcomer before furrowing her brow. A confused look painting her porcelain features.

"Who is ripper?" She curiously inquired, watching Smokeyvoice's mouth as she waited for an explanation.

[member="Sitara Qin"]

 

[Sitara Qin]

The loopy young lady was bouncy, melodic, and…probably not in her right mind. Sitara took note of how she was probably held here for spice smuggling or something of the like. There was no way this…child was dangerous, or well, she thought. She was in here for something fairly stupid, there was no doubt she’d be given some weird-ass nickname after getting out of here.

Xasuri a tourist’s getaway?

Certainly not.

Sure they had their arts and crafts and all that posh-poodoo, but they were certainly no Nar Shaddaa. Nope, nothing close to it even. This city—this cell— was so sterilized she could probably lick the floor and it’d be cleaner than the plates she used to dine with. She folded her arms against her chest as she examined the fragile looking lady.

There was no way she could beat Sitara up in any way whatsoever. That, and Sitara was a fairly skilled force user who could kick major ass. She wasn’t even sure why she was paranoid. It wasn’t the first time she’s been in jail. Feth, her father was a crime lord.

“So, ripper.” She continued—ignoring the naive woman’s question, “What’re you in for?”

| [member="Lysandra"] |