Private The Edge of Night

[Aren D'Shade]

The Eternal Engine, the best cantina Aren had ever been in, was the one place she went to regularly. They knew her here and before she reached the bar, they had her drink ready. With her most recent job completed, she had a few extra credits, and as it was early in the evening, not many people were there, so she offered to buy a round.

If the truth were known about Aren, they would know money would never be an issue for her. However, she chose to live like most people outside of her home. Inside, it was a different story, and very few people got to see that side of her life. Those present were blind to it, and she wanted it to remain that way.

Taking the first of the many drinks she had planned, she turned to toast to the person next to her.

"To a new life just getting started."

It might confuse him, but she didn't care. She just wanted somebody to share a few drinks and the evening with.

Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."
⏵ Play Theme
Location: The eternal engine • Cantina
Objective: Drink | Understand the stranger
People involved: Aren D'Shade
---​

Luccant turned slightly at the clink of glass, the words catching him more than the toast itself. He hadn’t expected company — let alone one that spoke like they meant something deeper than the surface.

His expression didn’t shift much, but his eyes lingered. Calm. Measured. Curious in that way people get when they’re trying to decide if the moment means more than it looks.

“To a new life,” he repeated, lifting his drink and letting the echo settle between them. His voice was rough around the edges but not harsh — like it had weathered long silences and grown comfortable in them.

He took a sip, slow and thoughtful, then rested the glass on the bar’s edge. “That yours or mine?” he asked, without turning fully toward her. "’Cause if it’s yours, I’m guessing it didn’t start with this place. And if it’s mine… well, I guess I should say thanks.”

There was no smirk. No lean-in. Just a small curl at the edge of his mouth — not a smile, exactly, but something that threatened to become one if he let it.

“You always toast to strangers?” he added, voice quieter now, like he was offering space for her to answer or not. “Or just the ones who look like they forgot what living’s supposed to feel like?”

The question hung there a moment — not invasive, but personal enough to show he was paying attention. Then he exhaled through his nose and shrugged lightly, letting the tension fall away.

“My name's Luccant, by the way. What's yours?"

He glanced at her again, more directly this time. There was nothing in the look — not yet — but something sharper: a kind of focus that said he wasn’t just here to kill time, or kill. That if she was offering something more than a drink — a story, a shift in course, maybe just a night without masks, just honesty — he’d listen.

Or maybe it was just the drink talking.

Either way, he raised his glass again.

“And here’s to not drinking alone, yeah?”​

[/CENTER]

 

[Aren D'Shade]

The toast completed, Aren took a sip of her drink as she looked at the man she had spoken to. His dark blue hair appeared natural to her eyes, and that caused her to blink a little in surprise. The color was as unexpected as the metallic grey hue to his eyes.

"Why not both? What has brought you here, Lucaant? I'm Aren D'Shade."

Pausing to take a drink, she set the glass on the counter and turned to give the man her full attention. The drink was at her elbow. He looked road-worn and almost seemed happy to have a bit of peace.

"No, I didn't start here. Not by a long shot. This is my home, though."

The bag she had been holding onto was set on the footrest by her feet, and her leg supported it so it didn't fall. Her pants had seen better days, but they weren't entirely worn out yet. Her headset hung down around her neck so she could hear the conversation.

"Have you forgotten what it's like to live? I toast when there's a good reason to, Lucaant. A new opportunity was given to me and I toast to that."

Taking her jacket off, she slung it on the chair behind her. Returning her focus to Lucaant, she raised her glass again with him.

"To not drinking alone."

Tipping it back, another was placed on the bar when she had lowered it.

Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."
⏵ Play Theme
Location: The eternal engine • Cantina
Objective: Drink | Understand the stranger
People involved: Aren D'Shade
---​

"Why not both?" Luccant echoed, his voice a low rasp. "Perhaps. It depends on the price of the choice." His metallic grey eyes, cold and steady, met hers, unfazed by her initial surprise at his dark blue hair. The name she offered, Aren D'Shade, registered without immediate significance. He was used to names, used to people, but rarely did they stick.

He saw the road-weariness in her, a reflection of his own constant state, and the fleeting sense of peace she alluded to. "Live?" he mused, a humorless ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I remember surviving. The rest is... negotiable."

When she raised her glass again, "To not drinking alone," he merely watched her. He didn't believe in repeated gestures, not for shared company, and certainly not for opportunities. He preferred his own battles, his own victories.

"New opportunities are merely new burdens," he stated, his voice flat, his gaze unwavering. "New debts to collect, or to pay. Sometimes, they're just new ways to disappoint." He took a slow sip of his own drink, the bitter taste a familiar anchor. "You seem to welcome them. That's a luxury I rarely afford."

He set his glass down on the counter, the clink a sharp punctuation in the ambient noise of Mek-Sha's underbelly. He didn't offer a name in return, nor a reason for his presence. He wasn't there for pleasantries or shared experiences. He was there for what he could gain, or what he might be forced to take.

"To what, then, is this 'new opportunity' tied?" Luccant finally asked, his metallic grey eyes piercing. It wasn't curiosity, but a pragmatic assessment. He sought information, always. He sought leverage. And he sought the path that would lead him to the next step, whatever that might be. The peace she spoke of was transient, a distraction from the constant grind of what it meant to simply be.​

 

[Aren D'Shade]

"I won't charge you anything."

Then again, he might mean something more than credits, but that was the first thing to pop into Aren's mind. She listened to his comment about living, but she couldn't entirely understand what he meant. Her life had been an easy one, and she knew this. Two loving parents, even if she was adopted and a pet. Along with access to technology, which led her to the path she was on.

It didn't bother her when he didn't return the second salute, but she finished her drink anyway and got the new one. He did have a point about new opportunities being a new burden. She hadn't thought of it that way, but he wasn't wrong. Looking into the depths of her glass for a moment, she was trying to assess what Lucaant was really trying to tell her. Aren was not one to read between the lines well, and that's why she preferred the company of droids. They could not fool her.

"A new avenue of life for me and a road of credits. That's why I did the toast as I did. To a new life, getting started. An opportunity came to me not long ago, and I'm celebrating it."

Not going into any details, Aren didn't think he needed to know that. Right now, she wanted to drink and have company doing it. She didn't have any friends, so she reached out to this man. Maybe they could become something, or maybe not. After tonight, she would know.

Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."
⏵ Play Theme
Location: The eternal engine • Cantina
Objective: Drink | Understand the stranger
People involved: Aren D'Shade
---​

Luccant watched her as she spoke—not in that hard, tactical way people sometimes use to size others up, but with a quiet sort of attention. The kind he rarely offered anyone unless they’d earned at least that much. And Aren, in her own way, had. Not by doing anything loud. Just by being present. By sharing the moment instead of letting it pass unclaimed.

She said she wouldn’t charge him.

Something in his face shifted—barely. The faintest flicker of a reaction that wasn’t guarded or cynical. It wasn’t trust, not yet. But it wasn’t suspicion either.

“Generous,” he said, low and sincere. “Not used to that being the first thing out of someone’s mouth in a place like this.”

He leaned an elbow against the bar, turning just slightly more toward her. The cantina buzzed around them, dim and warm, alive with the comfort of being off the battlefield—whatever battlefield that meant for each patron. For once, Lucaant didn’t feel the need to keep his boots half-turned to the door.

“Opportunity’s worth drinking to,” he added after a pause, nodding toward her second glass. “Whether it’s a road paved in credits or something quieter.” He glanced at his own half-full glass, thoughtful. “Most people don’t toast new beginnings unless they’re hoping someone notices. So… I guess I noticed.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward—not a full smile, but close. Honest.

He took a sip. Then set the glass down with a quiet clink.

“Sometimes I forget what that kind of start looks like,” he said, more softly now, eyes unfocused for just a moment—like something had tugged at the edges of his memory and he was debating whether to let it in. “But it’s not bad, sitting here. Not bad at all.”

He turned his gaze back to her.

“You seem like someone who makes things happen. Who doesn’t wait for life to knock first.” He gestured faintly with his glass. “That’s rarer than you might think. Lot of people just wait. Hope someone else takes the first step. You didn’t.”

He didn’t ask what the opportunity was. She hadn’t offered, and that told him enough. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was something dangerous. Or maybe it was just hers, and that was reason enough to leave it unspoken.

Instead, he gave her a small nod. One that said: you don’t have to explain. One that said: I’m not here to take anything.

“I’m not much for beginnings,” he said, “but I can drink to one if someone else is brave enough to make the toast.”

He raised his glass again—not stiffly, not out of obligation. Just simply drinking.

“I really do think you should have better company than me.”

And this time, when he drank, he let the quiet stretch between them. Not awkward, not uncertain. Just… shared. The kind of silence that felt earned.​

 

[Aren D'Shade]

When he broke his silence after assessing her, Aren let out a laugh. She wasn't laughing at him but at what he said. His comment about what she said not being expected was nice to her. She faced him fully, and her elbow also rested on the bar.

She didn't think of battle, as that was something she had rarely been involved in. He might be a warrior, but she was not. Or maybe she was, but of a different kind. War was not on her mind, and she didn't think of it. Denon was her home, and she was comfortable. This was her favorite cantina, and she was entirely at ease.

"I forced you to notice, Lucaant. Thank you."

She meant what she said, and her thanks were honest. Taking a drink, she gave him the time to speak and didn't interrupt him. Aren was not one to read people easily, and he was no exception to this rule. However, there were a few things she picked up from him.

"Everybody has the option to make things happen and take that step. Fear holds them back. I don't think you wait either, Lucaant. Nah, I don't have any other company. An empty flat is what waits for me after my drinks. What makes you think I should have better company?"

Taking her second drink a little slower, there were still a few sips left in the glass. Drinking one of them, she kept her eyes on her drinking partner.

Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."
⏵ Play Theme
Location: The eternal engine • Cantina
Objective: Drink | Understand the stranger
People involved: Aren D'Shade
---​

He paused, lifted his glass halfway to his mouth, then tilted it toward her in a half-toast without sipping.

“You forced me to notice?”
He raised a brow, amused. “Bold of you to assume I don’t notice everything.”

A beat. Sip. Smirk.

“But sure. You cut through the static. I’ll give you that.”
He rested the glass down with a faint clink. “Most people here try so hard to be loud they forget how to be interesting.”
He leaned his forearm on the bar, posture still coiled, but looser now—like a blade resting in its sheath, but unsnapped.

“You didn’t come in swinging. You just stood there. Like you knew the room would come to you eventually.”
He flicked a glance sideways at her, dry as durasteel in the sun.
“Cocky move. I respect it.”

When she mentioned fear, his expression didn’t soften—but something behind his eyes shifted. Just for a second.

“Fear holds most people back. The smart ones learn to lie to it. The reckless ones get poetic about it.”
He swirled the last of his drink lazily. “Me? I don’t wait. Standing still gets you buried.”

Then he laughed, low and surprised, as she mentioned the empty flat.

“Now that’s tragic. You’ve got wit, good boots, and no one to drink with?”
He gave a mock-considering nod. “The galaxy clearly has no taste if the only person you're drinking with is me.”

Another glance, this time more direct. More curious than probing.

“And for company? I'm not exactly social if you haven't noticed.”
He leaned a little closer, dropping his voice a notch.

“But you picked me, and I won't complain about something to do tonight.”
A pause. One brow lifted. “Unless this is some kind of dare, in which case—congrats. You’ve already won.”

He didn’t laugh, exactly—but there was something like it behind his voice. A glint of amusement beneath the usual guard.

“But if you’re just here to avoid going home alone… careful.”
He tapped the bar once, rhythm casual.

“I’m not one of those background noises you can drown your quiet with. I talk back.”

Then, after a moment of mock gravity:

“And worse—sometimes I listen.”

He raised his glass again in her direction.

“So. You’ve got your drink, your audience, and about five more minutes of me being civil. What do you really want, Aren?”
“Or are we just going to talk around the idea of it until I get drunk dead?”​

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Maybe he was right and she was being bold, but she had said it anyway. Aren might be feeling reckless, but she was happy, and that was what mattered. Her life, her choices, and she chose to spend it talking to Lucaant. He admitted she had broken through the haze of the day, and she tilted her drink at him, not in a toast but like how he had moments ago.

She wasn't a warrior and didn't read any of that in his body language. Setting her glass down, another was put next to it. She wasn't going to run out tonight. Not until she was done and going home. Giving him more of an assessing look when he responded to her fear comment, she liked his thought process.

"Neither am I. Social, that is. At one point, I could have been. That time is in the past now. Now, I take what I can when I want and live in my empty flat the rest of the time. I'm drinking with you now. It's what I want right now."

Leaning on her elbow, she swayed slightly, not from being tipsy, but to get a little more comfortable on the stool. She shifted her weight from one point to another. Smiling with a bit of humor twinkling in her eyes, she finished off the second drink and put the empty glass down with a soft click.

It gave him the time to speak, say his mind and then ask his question.

"Want? I want company for a while. Being alone doesn't suit me all of the time. And tonight isn't one of those nights. What fun is it to fade into the background noise? That isn't a place for me either. I'm glad you talk back. Where we go from here is undecided. Right here, right now, there is just us and these drinks. After? Time will tell, and perhaps we will have more to discuss. More to share. If you get drunk that badly, I'll have to take you home to make sure you're safe. Then who will protect me from you? You are a danger, but it's not pointed at me, and for that I'm thankful."

A couple of drinks in, Aren was able to notice what she usually couldn't. They also loosened her tongue and allowed her to speak freely. She meant no harm, though, and picked up her third drink to sip from it.

Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."
⏵ Play Theme
Location: The eternal engine • Cantina
Objective: Drink | Understand the stranger
People involved: Aren D'Shade
---​

Lucaant let out a quiet laugh—not the sharp bark it might’ve been on another day, but something lower, almost surprised at itself. He rolled his glass between his fingers, gaze flicking toward her then back to the countertop like he was trying not to smirk.

“You know…” He swirled the drink once more.
“I didn’t think I’d be sitting here tonight making sure I drink faster than someone else.”
He squinted at her glass with mock scrutiny.
“But here we are. And you’re three in, with all your secrets still locked behind that smile.”

He leaned back slightly in his seat, resting one elbow on the edge of the counter, shoulders loose, posture somewhere between 'comfortably dangerous' and 'pretending not to be impressed.'

“You say you live alone, drink when you want, and that you’re not the social type. Could’ve fooled me.”
He gestured loosely between them.
“Because unless I’m hallucinating—and let’s be clear, I’ve had worse nights—this qualifies as social.”

Another drink. He winced a little as it burned.

“You’re either lying about yourself, or you just like me.” He shrugged one shoulder, deadpan expression melting into something close to amusement.
“Which is worse, do you think?”

He tilted his head toward her now, letting the moment hang—less charged than usual, more curious.

“You talk like you’re fine with being alone. But you also haven’t shut up since I started listening.” He raised a brow, mock-accusing.
“Dangerous habit, by the way. Encouraging me.”

And then, softer—still teasing, but with a glint of sincerity buried in the grin:

“So. You staying for drink four, or am I just here to keep a stool warm?”​

 

[Aren D'Shade]

"And I'm not ending the night with only four. I didn't think you were trying to keep up. From what I know, that's your first since I sat down."

Looking at him from his head to his lap and back up, she pursed her lips slightly. Not as if she were trying to kiss him, but bringing them together as if she were trying to think about something.

"What secrets do you want to know?"

Finishing with a smile, she took a sip and set her glass down by her elbow. Lifting one finger to point it in the air and slightly in his direction, she waited until he finished the thought before speaking.

"I also said I sometimes prefer socialising now and then. Tonight is one of those nights, and you're my victim."

Falling silent again, she sipped when he did and rested her hand on the counter. Considering his question, she kept her answer to herself. He might want to know, but she wasn't ready to answer.

"Maybe I like a little danger now and then."

Throwing her head back a little in a laugh at his last question, she tipped her drink into her mouth and clinked it on the counter when she was done.

"You're on, Lucaant. I'll buy your drinks and you keep me company."

If he wanted, she wasn't going to force him to stay, but she wanted him to.

Lucaant Vaneric