Public Revenge of the Club II

[Charlie Nooran]

Charlie blinked in confusion. She didn’t understand the questions coming from her fellow padawan. Her hand fell from her shirt and rubbed the back of her neck. Nerves were getting the best of her as she ran her hand through her damp raven hair.

“What do you mean Auteme ?” Charlie chuckle nervously as she continued to feel the strain of the questions. Was her friend trying to find something more in her actions? Charlie really didn’t know what was going on, she knew she enjoyed Auteme’s company and the like. Leaning back slightly, her chocolate brown eyes peered away, trying to regain any composure she had left.

“I want to have fun with you. It’s why I brought you out here with me. I really like spending time with you. Uh I think you work really hard and I just wanted you to have fun with me and hang out with me - I don’t know Auteme.” Charlie took a deep breath, realizing she said that all rather quickly.

“Uh what did you want or think of what is happening?”

 

[Auteme]

Charlie Nooran ​

Charlie's reply made Auteme realize that she might've been pushing her own subconscious desires onto the situation. A Freudian slip of sorts, even when she thought she was in control. Maybe that was the sign she needed. The way she was seeing things, Charlie was giving off signs too.

But it was silly to try and over-analyze the situation. As always the best thing was to be honest to both herself and the girl across from her. Auteme took a deep breath, then reached forward and took Charlie's hand in both of hers. Their gaze locked, but she kept her grip loose, leaving Charlie free to retract her hand at any time.

"Charlie, I think it's really sweet of you to drag me out here just to have fun and hang out, and it's really thoughtful of you to see that I might need a break from everything going on." And there was a lot going on. She loved her friends and cherished them, but she could only think of a few times that they'd actually just hung out like normal people. Charlie just seemed to be naturally aware of it, whether she realized it or not. Auteme smiled a smile that was genuine and pure. She was happy. Maybe it was the dancing, or the company, or the atmosphere, all of it or none of it. But she was happy, and that was enough.

"Yeah, I've had fun, and... I want to keep having fun. I know there's always going to be a lot going on, but I'd love it if we could just... do normal stuff together." She took another deep breath. "I guess what I'm saying is -- well, what I think is happening -- is that I like you. And I might be off but I think you like me, too. So..." She gulped, her gaze dropping to her hands. "What's going to happen next?"

 

[Charlie Nooran]

The music faded, the crowd went quiet, and in Charlie’s mind the sound of a coin making its way down a spiral ramp echoed. At the end of the ramp, the coin dropped and everything registered to the oblivious padawan. She blinked, staring back towards the girl that sat across from her. Charlie felt her hands clammy and cold despite being held by the other padawan.

Breathing became hard and she was suddenly very aware of her own tongue. Was it always this big? Did it take up this much space all the time? Why were tongues created? The questions distracted her, but then her brain kicked her out of the loop and she remembered what just happened. The young Seoulian’s neck and face grew several shades of red darker as the confession from her friend passed her lips.

Auteme liked her. No one has ever said they liked her before. Well that was a lie, her mom said that but again that was her mom and moms were supposed to like you. Charlie didn’t know what to do or say in this situation.

So instead she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “S-Smash!” Her lips tightened as she realized she didn’t say what she thought she was going to say. Charlie’s blush deepened as she tried to find words.

“Auteme pretty. Charlie likes.”


All the cool points the girl had collected over the years, gone. Auteme

 

[Auteme]

Charlie Nooran
​

Auteme kept up that kind, genuine smile even as Charlie struggled to get out what she wanted to say. What she did say was a little odd. Auteme just let out a little laugh and squeezed Charlie's hand lightly, as if attempting to spread a little warmth to the girl. Her own heart was full and her face was warm. Still, not for a moment did she feel embarrassed or regretful. She'd said what she'd needed to say. And honestly it was comforting to know that sometimes she could make other people a little nervous or short of words.

"It's alright," she replied, "You don't need to say anything. I don't want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable or anything like that, so... if you need any space, or anything, just ask." Auteme stared at the other padawan for a few moments before smirking to herself. "Or, um, just nod."

She was surprised at how well that went. Being honest was always the best course of action. Almost always, anyway. Sure, Charlie wasn't the most coherent in that moment but she was being honest. "I think you're pretty, too, by the way." Maybe it was a little patronizing, but she was trying her best. If Charlie was a little out of it, she couldn't exactly express too much all that well through her words. Then again, not everything needed words. She'd wait for a better moment though.

 

[Charlie Nooran]

Charlie didn’t know if she could blush any harder than she already was. Looking around she became very aware that there were other people here and even her aunt who was parked at the bar. Cursing under her breath in the Old Corellian. Hopefully the Corellian wasn’t paying attention to what was happening with the girl. Her attention returned to Auteme who was still holding her hands. The kindness in her face helped settle Charlie’s rapidly beating heart. The compliment helped too.

“No no! I’m fine.Promise! I just - I don’t know. No one ever liked me before or told me that before.” An awkward smile spread across the girl’s face. She really didn’t know what to do in this matter, not at all.

Charlie had been told the birds and the bees, so she understood what’s supposed to happen. She didn’t know if she was ready for it, mostly everything felt so grown up. But she was a grown up too. Her hands slipped away from Auteme’s, and her palms rested on the small booth table. She had seen it done hundreds of times in the holofilms, she had read books and watched holotube vids, but she never tried herself. Using the sudden surge of courage, Charlie lifted her body from her seat and leaned toward her lips puckered searching for a kiss.

Despite her efforts her balance of weight was off and she rapidly tumbled forward, her face landing either in Auteme’s lap or the floor. She hoped for the softer landing.

Auteme

 

[HRD Jalan Riyadosh]

The HRD had quietly messed with Jalan's Riyadosh's eyes, making her functionally invisible to her young charge she had sent to have a good time. Call it hovering, as some living beings called it. She was specifically programmed to see to the safety of Alma Riyadosh's dream, as per her creators will. By extension that included the young woman. Even if that line of protection became what most would call, creepy.

It wasn't until Fillion Orville surprised her that she turned to look at something else besides the Zabrak woman and her charge. The question of a giraffe had her knitting her brow together, accessing her internal database for a relevant answer and yet coming up with nothing. "I do not believe I know what a giraffe is." There was a slight draw of confusion about her features as she listened to him speak, a brow arching at his assessment of her.

"You would not be incorrect. I am of the space-faring sort yes, and comfortable seating would be pleasant. However, I would argue against what you proclaim to be empty space sir, I am-" Her mechanical brain scrambled to fill the now void identification template, having handed the designation of Jalan RIyadosh over to her charge. "Alma. And yourself?"

The given name did not sit well in her programming for some reason, the draw of names had been very quick, and that name was preemptively the second most common name in her recordings.

 

[Eldin Daine]

“I’d hardly call my apartment a dumpster”, he grinned as the beautiful Judge sidled up next to him, he was not going to confirm or deny anything. “Well, it could probably do with a clean-up”, he added now thinking about it.

He grabbed his drink off the bar and before taking a sip leaned over to Yula nudging her shoulder with his own. “What, exactly did ya do?”, he had heard something about slavers, but he had been off planet when the chit went down. But before he got his response. Yula had noted the smell in the place too, Eldin was in no mind to go and cuff the bird.

“I still got the scars”, more mental than physical but they were there. He really did not want to go through that again, weeks it took to recover from the infection by one single scratch from Kingsley .

“We could always get ‘em to do it”, he pointed the glass toward the big burly bounces employed by the establishment, might be a laugh to see them deal with the bird over the counterfeit cash. Eldin turned on the spot toward Yula Perl , something about the girl piqued his ‘interest’, maybe it was the subtle pheromones floating about the air even if she did try and control them, he was like a moth to a flame.

“Fancy a dance?”, he smiles and placed the drink down, that was more appealing than dealing with the bird. And one thing Eldin could do well was dance .. and sing. Only select few people knew this.

 

[Jalan Riyadosh]

The slight blush to the Zabrak's cheeks had Jalan watching her quietly, if not a touch more intently. The contrast of color would have looked splendid on canvas. A picture to paint later as the smile shifted to an equally pointed grin. "Would be a lovely experience." The cough of the bartender had her eyes drawn to the drinks before them. One hand took the drink, what felt like electricity dancing up her arm as Vaylin brushed her. Nerves that sang with what she could assume was, excitement?

An almost concerning feeling, if the giddiness in her hadn't pushed her to turn to the woman. It made her heart race a little, the contact, the lingering gaze. The need to explore this feeling was running rampant in her system and curiosity made her give in as the hand was extended to her. Taking care with how tightly she held the hand, the sharp clack of heels had her following behind Vaylin in response.

"We should, yes." The words were husky, her own tone surprising her as she let the other lead the way.

It was pleasant to be away from the source of stink at the bar. Especially with so intriguing a-. Her thoughts paused on the word as she watched the woman from behind. Stumbling for a definitive word to put to the newly acquainted, friend? No, seemed to rushed a description. Partner? They had yet to be dancing, but the word lingered regardless. Acquaintance seemed to impersonal given the touching the pair were now doing. Or perhaps this was another social dynamic of a bar, proximity, lack of typical social boundaries, the sheer amount of imbibed alcohol.

The question did not seem terribly important as she gently squeezed the other woman's given hand, enjoying the feel of contact much to her surprise. Droids were not known for their, tender nature, and the HRD only touched her when it felt she needed assistance or checking her vitals.

Vaylin

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

A satisfied grin crept into Kaalia's features as she watched Vaylin move on over towards Jalan Riyadosh . She had come here with the intent of making sure the zabrak would have a good time and it seemed like her not-so-subtle urging was already bearing fruit. Although the redhead couldn't hear what they were saying from where she was, Vaylin's body language was enough of a sign that this was looking like a job well done. She had expected it to take a bit longer than this, but the surprise was clearly nothing but pleasant.

What turned the grin of satisfaction into a mischievous smile, though, was the sensation in the back of her mind. Ishana Pavanos had managed to make her way into the club and the Balmorran would see Kaalia turn around to face her as she watched her make her way through the crowd. Ishana had put in some serious effort tonight and it was most definitely not lost on the redhead. Vaylin would be just fine- Kaalia had other business to attend to.

"Did I catch your attention?" Kaalia said playfully as she watched her wife take the last few steps toward her to close the distance between them. Seeing her wife all dressed up like this was a rarity and so she happily and greedily took in the sight, taking careful note of the way her hair looked when it was down, how the dress complimented her skin tone, how her makeup drew Kaalia's attention to her chestnut brown eyes, which revealed the Balmorran's intentions clear as day. Kaalia was more than willing to play along with her game. Her mouth made its way to Ishana's ear.

"You most definitely caught mine."

 

[Auteme]

Charlie Nooran ​

Auteme didn’t mean to laugh, but a little giggle escaped her lips as Charlie toppled over into her lap. She immediately covered her mouth. “Are you okay? Sorry, that was kind of mean,” she said, letting out another short laugh. She helped Charlie back up into her seat. Hopefully the girl wasn’t too embarrassed; she’d been trying so hard and Auteme found that endearing.

She gave the other padawan a little pat on the head. No injuries, just a little slip, so there wasn’t anything for Auteme to fix up. “Don’t worry about... that kind of stuff. I like it more, just hanging out, anyways.” Smooching was cool, but cool people were better.

 

[Vaylin]

Vaylin smiled when Jalan accepted her offered hand, taking her drink and stepping away from the bar. Although, the Zabrak's attention was solely focused on the woman, and didn't notice until too late that Val Drutin had stolen her drink. She turned her head towards him, a retort already at her lips but she held back. Hell, she wanted to give him a matching bruise for rudely stealing her drink. But Vaylin didn't want to spoil the mood, and decided to ignore him.

With her attention solely on Jalan, the Zabrak had forgotten to give Kaalia Pavanos the signal. Albeit, she knew the redhead had been keeping an eye on her since she had made her move. And Vaylin was certain she had caught sight of Ishana Pavanos at one point.

Cutting a path across the night club, Vaylin felt a squeeze against her hand and looked back at Jalan. She had noticed the woman's deliberate effort to be gentle. It made her curious as to the why, and interested in finding out. Vaylin returned the gesture with her own squeeze, flashing her a small grin. She returned to looking ahead, moving with a little more sway in her hips.

Soon enough, they had found a table booth to themselves. Vaylin let go of Jalan's hand, letting her take a seat first.

Jalan Riyadosh​

 

[Tulan Kor]

Tulan took a moment to think on his answers, picking his words very carefully. Normally a stoic man, but more above all, an analytic man. And he could clock that manufacturer's warranty-proof shine on her voice. It was corporate, cold, but held the visage of caring and empathy. He'd seen it all over, it one life or the next. Couldn't say what, or who she was with, but he knew that she was with some entity bigger than herself. Carried in her shoulders, her hands, her voice.

Her smile was practiced as much as her speech was. Must've been a leader of some kind. The kind of smile you use over the phone to avoid suspicion. People could hear you not smiling- this was like getting a call from a collection agency.

But there was a certain realness under all that pink skin, that he was absolutely going to call her.

"Suppose there's a lot of women in here that look like you." He turned and rested his elbows on the bar, looking out to the crowd. "Only one you, though." He said matter-of-factly, nodding to his statement.

Tulan took a swig of his drink, facing the woman. For the first time in years, Tulan told his name to a stranger.

Hopefully he wouldn't regret it.

"Tulan. Tulan Kor."

Two well-trained fingers picked up the napkin, in a move that could only be done by a person who fought and killed things with those fingers. He twirled the napkin, folding it neatly within a few dexterous movements. Tulan didn't even notice- every action, every moment was a result of a drill or a learned lesson.

Pain, truly did retain.

Not sure how much worse he could feel- but he smiled at her quip all the same.

"I'll be sure to call you."

He looked over the numbers, icy blue eyes meeting hers.

"Enjoy your night, pretty lady. We'll see each other again."

He smiled, taking another swig of his drink.

Melia Siari

 

[Val Drutin]

Rather than starting an exciting bar fight, the she-devil Vaylin only gave Val a slightly constipated look for stealing her drink. He watched her go, rather disappointed by the outcome of his grand theft alcohol. Oh well—at least he wasn’t in any more pain than he was already in. That was always a plus.

Pulling her Bespin Fizz away from his cheek, he sniffed it, then took a tentative sip. His face immediately pinched up. “Ew! Cranberry juice!”

He fished around in the glass for ice, but found only a chunk of steaming dry ice, the source of the fizz part of the drink. Not exactly ideal for pressing to a bruise. Speaking of which, he now had developed a dark heel-shaped mark on the right side of his face. Well, his right—your left.

Who the hell was he going to disrupt now? His gaze wandered around the bar, taking in the various faces there. Eldin Daine was trying his best to get Yula Perl to dance with him, though she seemed much more concerned about the big smelly bird Kingsley (squawk!). The robot version of the gal Vaylin had ignored Val in favor of, HRD Jalan Riyadosh , looked a little lost after being the recipient of a silly pickup line from Fillion Orville , and Melia Siari had left her number written in lipstick (teehee) with Tulan Kor despite pairing up with Jovana Valente for the time being. Given all the romantic/sleazy activity going on around him, Val felt more like a reluctant scorekeeper than an active player in this game. Oh well. He didn’t do hookups, regardless of the PG-13 rating around here.

Still, dancing alone was something he could do on his own ship every day of every week. It was no fun dancing alone in a nightclub. Once more holding the Bespin Fizz against his cheek, he turned away from the bar… just in time to see someone coming down the stairs.

His face lit up. “Hey! You there!” He tossed the drink away from him—it slid across the counter and fell on the floor at the feet of the overworked (and probably underpaid; no offense, Madam Perl) Alistair Abbott , but Val was already moving away from the bar by the time the glass shattered. He met the person as she reached the bottom of the stairs, once again smiling in spite of the bruise. “You wanna dance?”

 

[Anesha Astapova]

Anesha had come back down from the second floor in an absolutely miserable mood. Not only were there no booths available upstairs, all of them were reserved well into next week. She could have rented her own private room on one of the upper floors, but then why even stay here if she was going to party alone?

She was staring dismally at her feet when she suddenly heard a voice. Looking up, she blinked. “Do I know you?”

“Well, not exactly,” replied Val Drutin. “We’re both written by the same person, and I was supposed to appear in one of your threads, but she’ll probably never get around to actually doing that.”

“...What?”

“Do you want to dance with me?”

“Uh…” Anesha glanced toward where AMCO sat. So far he hadn’t moved.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. His writer is involved in too many threads and can’t keep up with them all.” Val waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, he’s here for somebody else. And if he does try to bother you, I’ll fight him off.”

“I take it you’ve met him before,” Anesha remarked warily.

“Not yet.” He winked. “But I have read his bio, so I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from him.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go dance. At the very least, it’ll make things easier for our writer, since she won’t have to double post every turn. Pretty please?”

Anesha only understood half of what he was saying, but she had nothing better to do. Gingerly she took his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor.

 

[Jovana Valente]

A club has no attachments and as Jovana watched Melia Siari slip toward Tulan Kor . Jovana's interest waned, she wasn't here to be anyone's toy and it seemed the Zeltron wanted exactly that. So, the Spacer took the opportunity to slip through the crowd. After all, what woman wanted to play second fiddle? If the Zeltron had any seriousness in her desire then she wouldn't mind a chase, if not? Then Jovana averted disaster completely, besides there were plenty of others in the club tonight. It was the woman's one night to be free before schelping back across the galaxy to help more slaves find freedom beyond the borders of the Sith Empire.​

​

Suavemente, besame. Her body felt the rhythms of the music and the woman's native language flowed in her mind as her hips swayed back and forth. Jovana found another woman, a Lorrdian, or maybe Chandralian who knew at this point in the evening. All she knew was that someone had their hands on her body and it wasn't pink. Bodies on the dance floor and the feel of drunkenness in the air. Damelo otra vez. The colors of the lights changed, and dry ice smoke flooded into this particular section of the dance floor. Jovana turned to catch the Zeltron's approach again, and this time she gave the woman a shake of her hand, no. You're gonna have to do more than that mami.​

​

​

 

[Jalan Riyadosh]

The body was a strange thing, Jalan reasoned. The comforting touch of hands, the returned squeeze making her feel, something. More than something to watch over? Vaylin's eyes had not lingered on her trying to catch sight of injuries or bruises. Her eyes had been a bit more lingering-A slight blush colored her face. What had been that look? The swaying of her hips had not gone unnoticed either, a lingering gaze from Jalan had her eyes widen when they arrived at a table, with a small sound of surprise. There was a pang of sadness as the hand was let go of, but given the chance to sit first, she pulled the jacket off and set it across the back of the chair.

Jalan was quick to take her seat, eyes moving back to the woman to watch her sit. There was both interest and amusement on her face, before noticing the lack of a drink in Vaylin's other hand. "You don't have a drink? I thought-" She turned, looking back to the bar and not seeing anything that lent itself to the presence of her drink. Her own Bespin Fizz was slid over, and for however much she had enjoyed it, or how little, she wanted her companion-. That was the word! Companion!

She wanted Vaylin to have something at least. "I haven't taken a drink yet. Or we could share?" She offered Vaylin the first drink from it.

Vaylin

 

[Rook Heimdal]

"Well chit, heya Eldin Daine ," the lanky woman said with a smile as she passed him. Seeing him with a supposed Zeltron she tilted her head, gave him knowing wink, then mouthed the words "good luck."

The music was loud as feth, especially for a Firrerreo, but it managed to drown the pesky voice that'd followed her since she phased the coffee mug into the table at breakfast. That was her favorite mug, too, and she didn't need an eldritch laugh in her ear mocking her for it. Here she might could wind down, have one alcoholic drink, then empty the place of its pretzels. Heck, she'd be saving the others from eating too many calories. What Rook truly wanted was a pretty face to talk to, but that was a social luxury the Phaseling put on hold for the time being.

It'd been more than a long time since she had actually set foot inside a club. Since it was in her stomping grounds of Cloud City the opening was a good excuse, one she'd be foolish not to use. With hard work and minimum shady business she'd managed to gather a humble number of talons to her name. Slowly she started building a life again, fractured as it was, but it was something. With some small bonus cash she could afford to buy a simple but sleek linen shirt, a pair of good pants, and some newish looking shoes. The jacket was borrowed. From who? Well the name tag was empty, but she'd be sure to return it to the cleaners before dawn. Simple case of a misplaced item, ya know?

'Course the main reason she limited public outings was because insurance was expensive and being a living entity of bad luck didn't help anyone. Frankly it added up and she couldn't afford to run up payments due to her... unique biology. It wasn't her fault, honestly.

It was his! The little bastard known as AMCO . She could still see his face, with the smug little upturn and probing eyes. If she ever saw him again, "Snap his scrawny lil neck, fethin' rat."

That is what she always told herself, as well as any individual unfortunate enough to catch her work-related rantings.

As she worked her way through the club she paused to appreciate the dancers. But as soon as she caught a decent eyeful someone shouted at her for obscuring the view. With a sheepish grin she ducked out of the way and headed toward the booths.

It was the scent she picked up first. A mild but expensive deodorant, one not common in this part of space. But impossible to be him, not here. Then she saw the back of his head, heard his voice.

Supposedly, nothing is truly impossible.

The woman's pale gold skin flashed silver in fear. This wasn't how she'd wanted to see him again--Hell she never wanted to see him again. She was conflicted, confused, and gave in to the flight response. Turning on her heel she began walking briskly. Maybe she could find Eldin, he was a Judge after all. Did they allow Sith Lords around here? Probably. She opened her communicator, sending Eldin a small, succinct message.

She then slowed her pace. This was her chance to confront this guy and what was she doing?

Looking back she mused the details. She was no Judge nor a suit, at least not yet. Her hand checked the holster at the back of her belt to draw her blas-- "...dammit!" She didn't have her blaster. Why? Because it had fallen out as she hopped off the transport outside.

Rook took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and started walking back. The gold tone returned to her skin, and steadily her trepidation had begun to be replaced with indignation. How dare he think he could just lounge around here, the alchemical tick. She got closer, still behind him, and slapped both hands on his shoulders as she bent down with a fake smile on her lips,

"Well, you sure ain't a sight for sore eyes, lil fella. Don't try nothin'."

 

[Allyson Locke]

Allyson was doing her best not to observe anything that was happening, she wanted to relax. Everything that had been going on, her mind feeling as if it was splitting into a thousand pieces - she just wanted a moment where nothing mattered. The amber liquid in her glass helped with that, she briefly remembered her father coming home after a long day and pouring himself a drink. The smell of the smokey oak from the most excellent Corellian whiskey money could buy on his beard filled her memory. It brought an odd sense of comfort, and the woman wondered if that was why she was so fond of the alcohol. Although, she was never addicted to the release it gave like her father was. ​

​

The glass found its place on the bar while she listened to the music, she could feel the swirl of emotions in a venue like this. As time progressed, the Corellian had become accustomed to the Force and its nuances. She used them to her benefit, especially when she was working. Someone sat beside her, and instinctively the Force was drawn in, and her thought shield protected her mind. Paranoia was a crippling feeling, but Allyson just considered it to be cautious. ​

​

His words brought a small smile upon her face, part of her wondered what he was going to say and if he was going to depend on a cheesy pickup line. The Corellian always did find those the most entertaining, but his own statement was unique enough to garner her attention. Turning slightly in her seat, her shoulders relaxed and showed her openness to the conversation. The man had passed the first hurdle and was rewarded with a smile. ​

​

“An interesting view on all of it. Could give someone an existential crisis with a greeting like that friend.” Allyson held her glass and motioned it towards him, adding emphasis to her comment. She took a sip and returned the drink to the bar top. Too bad Allyson was already slightly intoxicated, or his words would have sent her already spiraling mind into a free fall. She kept herself together, looked at his drink, and smirked, “Good choice, good Corellian brandy is always a good move. I prefer to have the good straight not hidden behind anything fancy.” ​

​

The man felt different than other force users she had encountered. It was an interesting phenomenon, and she became intrigued. The Light side was faint in her heart as the days passed, but she did her best to clutch it with all her might. To lose that bit of light, she didn’t know what she would become. Darkness began to plague her mind, yet the warmth of Ashla in the deep recesses of her heart brought comfort. “So what brings you here, friend?” She paused and then remembered her name for the evening, “I’m Ally by the way, what can I call you tonight?”​

Walker ​

 

[Olen Halcorr]

Olen thought for a second before letting out a chuckle at the remarks she made about her avian friend. He took a long look back towards the birdman, raising an eyebrow and trying to mind the stench. Seemed like he was just there to have fun, no nefarious intent as far as he was concerned, well, he hoped anyways. Guzzling down the last of his zeltron on the beach which he'd somewhat enjoyed as the night went on.

A burning thought soon came over him, he'd displayed interest in the woman on more than one occasion, some of his methods had been less than discreet, but that was besides the point. Did this Amea share the same interest, perhaps not, perhaps she was more discreet than he was, which seemed the logical conclusion. He really did wish for her to share the same feeling. It'd been a long time since he'd felt this way.

Grinning like a madman, he laughed into the air as she made her joke. He was a little surprised to see her rise up out of her seat, she'd seemed much less worried about dancing when they'd first talked, which was not too unlike himself when he'd arrived at the nightclub.

The question that he'd contemplated on earlier soon reentered his mind as she asked about where he thought the night would go. It caused a hesitation that hadn't really happened much throughout his time here. He figured that it was no use trying to think up some complicated battle plan for how he was going to finish off his time, usually that would worry him, as plans were everything, you needed to know what you were doing. But in this place, none of that mattered.

"Usually, I'd have a distinctive and regimented outline of the day, but I don't think I shall need that. I want to try going with the flow, maybe you could give me some help with that."

That grin on his face grew softer, maybe even a little bit distant, though his snapped out of it as he pulled her softly into a spin. Behind the two the music blared and he found himself moving to the beat, something that potentially worried him. People were starting to couple up on the dancefloor and he wanted to be part of that.

Amea Virou

 

[Walker]

He chuckled nodding his head apologetically at her comment on crisis, "Sorry, guess I got distracted." he responded simply slowly taking in the drink he held before setting it down and breathing in. How strange alcohol worked. Relaxing to the point of exciting sometimes, of course, in that case, it usually meant worse for him later. It didn't always make sense. Right now he just felt calm and pleased, he hadn't had remotely enough to really get to him. So he was pretty sure that was just the taste and surrounding. As much noise as was here really wasn't an issue.

Walker smiled and looked back, holding it up in the light as she mentioned his choice, "Travelers always have the best choices I find. I might be a little biased though. And Coriellians are among the better known." he commented. Then again, he realized he might be thinking smugglers. So often Coriellian engineering was involved for stuff like this. They had fast ships after-all.

He looked back at her as she asked a question before introducing herself, and asking what to call him, "Vash, Walker, whatever nickname or 'short for' works for ya." he said in a friendly tone before humming and answering her question, swirling the glass in his hand instinctively, "Just looking to have a good day. Cool off, warm up, socialize or just sit around, whatever it brings. I'm not picky at the moment. Life just gets kind of busy, ya know? I'm...well sort of a doctor really, traveling one most of the time. Get tired of work eventually, and just need a break. How about you? Just wanting a break, a frequenter of this type of thing, maybe something more specific like a casual meeting with a friend of yours?"

Doctor was about as off the mark as he could get. Yes, he was absolutely qualified by knowledge and skill. But almost everything he did was for his own gain. Experiments and creations. Hardly truly medicinal. He'd heal, sure, for a good enough price. But it wasn't really his practice. No matter how willing he was to doctor being the wrong word in casual conversation.

His father was used to these places, his mother less so. He was pretty sure it was the telepathy. He mostly just ignored it in establishments like this unless he felt explicit danger. But he never was like her, or his father.

Allyson Locke