Private Spring of the Mythosaur

[Montello Deshra]

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TAG: TBD

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Conclusions to missions weren’t usually dramatic. The ending to this previous one followed that outline. The grime and stench that stuck to his armor were wiped away aboard his personal gunship. An audio message would then be sent through the proper channels. A straight recording of the happenings around Rishi. There was a bit of bloodshed, but nothing that couldn’t be handled. Luckily, it wasn’t anything serious. Minor gangs did like to set up shop in places they didn’t belong.

The trip to Mandalore wasn’t anything spectacular. It had been some time since he had seen it with his own eyes. Most of his time was spent on Gargon these days running his own enterprise. Now, he just wanted a change in scenery. It was definitely a good time to also check up on a branch of the Mythosaur Den. Though it did cater primarily to Mandalorians, they turned no one that could afford their services away. A business he prided himself in.

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Praviah parked his ship prior to taking the shuttle to the hotel. He wouldn’t announce his arrival, but surely drew looks from the staff upon his arrival. Promptly he would descend to a lower level of the facility. A newer addition to this building that was presented by one of the fellow chairman. Though it was a natural spring. It was meant to simulate a natural environment indoors. An artificial night sky. Imported rock with natural spring water from within Mandalore itself (with proper filtration of course). An estranged concept to him, but he wasn’t directly managing this facility anyway. Something new he would try.

A member of the hospitality staff led him to the showers before heading to the spring. The warm vapors could be seen rising from the water as he noticed others there. He found a place to settle down within the water as it reached up to the middle of his torso before he sank down lower. A young maiden would approach offering Mandalorian assorted drinks and a few more popular galactic choices. He quickly chose something with low alcoholic content to start off. Before the woman left, he could feel the burden of his work leave his muscles. A sense of laziness began to envelop him. Deep down it almost frightened him as he wasn’t one to enjoy such a luxury. For the time being, he would close his eyes and take in the relaxing void of “peace” even if it was a lie.

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[Niijima Izumi]

Steam drifted low across the surface of the spring, turning the lamps into blurred halos and the ceiling’s artificial night sky into something almost convincing. Water lapped quietly against the stone with slow, rhythmic sounds; the kind that made time feel less important.

It was the hour when most guests stopped talking. When fatigue finally caught up. When even proud men let their shoulders drop a little.

From the corridor leading down into the baths came the faintest, deliberate music. The sound of small bells brushing together with each careful step. It wasn’t accidental. It never was.

The woman approaching wore her presence the way others wore perfume; subtle, intentional, impossible to mistake once noticed. Her kimono marked her immediately as staff assigned to hospitality rather than a guest. Formal, layered ivory over deep crimson, the silk matte instead of glossy, patterned with scattered maple leaves stitched in dull gold thread. The embroidery only caught the light when she moved, flashing briefly before disappearing again.

Elegant without demanding attention.

The sleeves were long and trailing, nearly brushing her knees when her hands rested at her sides. Every motion they forced became slower, smoother, almost floating. Nothing abrupt. Nothing threatening.

Her obi was wide and structured, tied into a neat, balanced knot at her back. Decorative on the surface; patterned with muted fans and fine threadwork; but firm enough to keep her posture perfectly straight.

Her face carried the traditional white makeup, but applied lightly, thin enough that skin still showed warmth beneath it. It gave her a porcelain finish rather than a theatrical mask. Her lips were painted small and red, shaped into a gentle curve that made even a neutral expression look kind. A faint brush of pink softened the corners of her eyes so the white wouldn’t look stark in the lanternlight.

Her dark hair had been swept up into a polished shimada style, secured with lacquered pins and a few understated silver kanzashi. Tiny bells and enamel petals hung from them, chiming softly as she walked.

A quiet courtesy so no one was ever startled by her nearness.

She didn’t look toward the bathers directly as she entered the space. That would have been rude. Instead, her gaze stayed respectfully lowered, taking in the room through subtle awareness, and such awareness alone.

By the time she reached the section where the man had settled, she already knew he wasn’t a regular.

She stopped several paces from the water’s edge and knelt smoothly onto the warm stone, folding into a formal bow. Sleeves spilled around her hands like pale petals.

“Good evening,” she said, voice low and even, smooth as warmed sake. Professional. Neutral. The kind of tone meant to soothe rather than engage.

She lifted her head just enough to acknowledge him properly. Skin recently scrubbed clean. Faint pressure lines where armor had rested. A stillness that wasn’t quite relaxation yet — more like someone trying to remember how.

She didn’t stare.

Just noted it the way any good attendant would. A lacquer tray rested beside her knee. Fresh towels folded precisely. A small ceramic pitcher beaded with condensation. Cups arranged with quiet care.

“If you need anything refreshed or replaced,” she said, “please let me know. I’m assigned to this side of the spring tonight.”

Instead, she settled back onto her heels at the edge of the stone, hands folded neatly in her lap, posture straight but relaxed.

After a moment, the bells in her hair gave one faint chime as she adjusted slightly.

“The center tends to run hotter,” she added gently, gesturing toward the deeper section of the pool. “If it becomes uncomfortable, the stone near the wall stays cooler.”

Steam curled between them. Lanternlight flickered. Somewhere across the room, water poured softly from a spout.

But attentive all the same, her gaze drifting lazily across the room, keeping track of movement, doors, reflections in the water.

If he chose to speak, she would answer. If not, she would simply remain there; a calm, steady presence; guarding the stillness without ever claiming it.
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[Montello Deshra]

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TAG: Niijima Izumi

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The warmth of the water engulfed all of his soreness. The weight of his transgressions drifted away. The tension in his muscles lessening could be seen underneath his red skin. All uneasiness of the past few days simply began to vanish. It was definitely different from jumping into a sauna.

An eye opened toward the direction of the young woman that came into her presence. A contrast to his chaos and wrathful presence. She appeared to him as one that was enveloped in a sense of calmness, more reserved. It was yet to be seen, but maybe she was a diamond carefully placed in the right display case. Sometimes finding a niche wasn’t a simple thing for anyone working under his brand. Maybe this was one of those rare occasions.

The greeting presented to him reached down into his crystallized heart. A slight tug pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Su cuy,” he returned in a neutral tone. A simple greeting in Mandoa.

He regarded her words as his eyes drifted toward the center. The man did tend to like things hotter. The tightness in his muscles weren’t going to melt themselves away. It was a good suggestion as he wasn’t all too familiar with this sort of thing. A complete stranger that didn’t want to make himself seem foolish.

There was a brief disturbance in the water as his body moved where his eyes drifted. The change in temperature became much more obvious. He could definitely tell that it would potentially be fine for the time being.

“I can’t say I’ve seen you around here before. Your professionalism is a breath of fresh air in this part of the galaxy,” he stated in a low baritone tone. It was an attempt to break the ice or steam vapors in this case.

“Your approach and allure is definitely much needed in such an environment. Though, I think my professionalism for the day has sort of run its course,” he stated in a lighter tone.

A slight head tilt motioned in her direction, the sith pureblood would give a full smile. “My lady if it wouldn’t at all bother you, may I have your name? You can call me Praviah.”

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