Sloughing Off Atrophy

[Marselia Urstalis]

Location:
Blue Violet Nightclub
Paradise City, Zeltros

Emotional turmoil was an extra burden she didn't need, with classes going swiftly by, the end of her first year at the Levantine Astronautical Academy coming up quickly over her increasingly like how the deck rose up to meet your face when tripping and falling. After Jared had left her at the academy, their parting words being ones of a desire to entwine their lives together in the bond of matrimony, contact had been reasonable. It became more infrequent on her part as classes got in full swing, then one day they just stopped entirely, and try as she might, she couldn't get ahold of him. Other channels came back with almost nothing to go on. It was as if he had disappeared; worse still, maybe he had, but why? If not a why, then what?

That was six months ago, and she had soldiered on at the academy and in her training as a Warden of the Sky, keeping herself as distracted as possible from her worries, until term break came. Then, without the steady occupation of academia, all the worry crept in again and she panicked for something to fill her time, when it occurred to her that she always had other options available to her. This was what brought her to Zeltros, where she hadn't been since her eighteenth year, after escaping the gilded cage of her former home. The festive, hedonistic planet could easily quell any concerns, at least in a temporary manner; she'd been told none was better for sating any vice than the Blue Violet, and the only criticism she had of the place was that she thought the name would be better switched around.

That thought was the furthest thing from her mind as she sat at the side bar, idly sipping a Meltdown, bathing in the pheromone-choked atmosphere, and amusing herself with attempting mild, 'helping' tricks of the mind on unsuspecting partygoers, through the haze on her own. She hadn't employed the skill much at all after the death of her father, with the fears she had then that had since been long laid to rest, overcome during training with Andra, whom she in some ways missed terribly. Yet another who'd disappeared from her life. Still, the furthest things from her mind, as the suggestion piqued in the back of her psyche that someone might notice what she was doing.

"Oh, let them notice," she hissed to herself, in a tone that very much implied she found the idea absurd, "could be fun." A long, far cry from the eighteen-year-old girl that was afraid of using the Force for what it might turn her into. Maybe she was comfortable with it. "Maybe... I don't really care."

Or did she?

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Zeltros was a special place. Your background did not matter. High or low, everyone could escape here. Most that knew you were too drugged on something to be able to recognise you. The sheer mass of people made sure that even the chances of that remained fairly low. A truly neutral place, where the only purpose seemed to be entertainment and depravity. Decadence. It was no place for a Sith to spend his or her time, but everyone had their vices. Who was going to tell on him? He bowed to no Dark Lord anymore. He was his own. The Council as it had been known was no more. Times were changing, and for the better. For once, Pyrrhus needed a drink. He had cause for celebration. At last his eyes were open. His potential would be realised no matter the cost. And it would be costly.

The dark robes of the Sith would not do in this setting. Even Zeltros had limitation on its tolerance. It would not serve his purpose. Instead he once more took on the attire of the rich merchant, or perhaps even nobleman. He had the resources for it. Although the fabric was fine, it was far from flashy. The colours were dark, but elegant, and not with too many in one place. Purple seemed to be the main theme, mixed in with black and gold, the latter reserved for marking lines, buttons, and the like. His clothes seemed custom made, for they fit him perfectly, as if they had been made with only him in mind. The colours even complemented his natural skin tone. Its emphasis was on class rather than extravagance. Unlike the newly rich who had a tendency to flaunt their wealth, making sure every one took note of their station, his represented the established class that had no need to show off. He did not try to convince anyone. He simply was. They whispered success, but did not scream it.

The tall Togruta was already making his way towards the bar when he saw her. It was her fierce red hair that first had caught his attention. She seemed to be alone. Someone like her, he imagined, hardly ever got to spend time alone in a nightclub like this, not on Zeltros. He wasn't about to let her grow familiar with the experience. It was only after his eyes had lingered on her for a moment that he realised he had been drawn in for other reasons. He felt the Force within it. More than being touched by it, the woman knew it. She was using it right now, but not in a way a Jedi would. Interesting.

Pyrrhus landed at the bar, next to the woman. "One Sith Scorcher" it was a drink hard to order without a mischievous smirk. He found the name ironic. Though he kept his true nature hidden, it was suppressed but not entirely concealed. Some his his presence naturally slipped through, and it had a distinctly sinister tonality to it. The entire process had been rather quick, the bartender almost immediately taking his order. With a simple suggestion with the Force the employee had become aware of his presence. With a drink in hand he turned sideways to face Marselia, eyes examining her in a not so subtle way before focusing on her eyes. His opening line? What's someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this? How much does a polar bear weigh?She had heard them all. He didn't beat around the bush. She was already aware of his presence, he was sure.

"Hello"

[member="Marselia Urstalis"]