The Slag Pit

[Malok]

​

The Slag Pit, Nar Shaddaa​

After coming under occupation by the Galactic Republic, compliments of the Vigo Domino dropping the ball considerably, the Hutt moon had suffered a loss of business. In particular, "illegitimate" enterprises, such as moving spice and slaves, had become a difficult task; for the Republic and their Jedi hounds had made such tasks nay impossible. Normally, Abel couldn't be assed to find a care in the world to give about political turns of events; but this change affected his paycheck directly. For if there was no drug-running, there was no guarding. If there was no guarding, then there was no paycheck for Abel. As such, the most recent months had been immensely difficult financially for the young Enforcer; but things finally took a turn for the better! A bold Hutt had decided to run some operations, despite Republic presence, and Abel had landed a spot guarding the shipments.

The job started two days from the present and, in order to celebrate, Abel took a much-needed trip to the local cantina. It was a seedy little joint by the name of the Slag Pit and was often populated by bounty hunters and other such folk. As such, the Enforcer felt right at home with this crowd, as they all fought for a living; some more than others. To this end, he threw on some rather decent threads, consisting of a pristine, button-up shirt and dark denims, before heading out to his favorite spot on the sordid moon. Upon arrival, he straightway took a seat at the bar and grabbed the attention of the Ithorian bartender with a snap of his fingers. "Yo! Otto!" he called, deliberately sounding rude and boisterous. When the alien turned around in a huff, he straightway broke into hearty chuckles and greeted Abel with a fistbump.

<"Hey brother!"> he said in his native tongue, <"How's it going? What'll you have?"> With a proud smirk, the Enforcer said simply: "Things are going better than usual. Landed some decent work, finally! And Corellian Whiskey, on the rocks. I'm drinking like a fish tonight!"

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet had been on a bar crawl for more then an hour now, though she was less then impressed with the choices. In all honesty she wished she had brought something else to wear, other than her beskar'gam. But the heavy metal provided a comforting feeling as she wondered the streets of Nar Shaddaa. She stopped outside the door of a little cantina. The Slag Pit. How appropriate. She wasted no time pushing the door open and inspecting the interior. As usual it was a sketchy place with shady looking people. By now she had gotten used to the stares she received when she opened the door. It seemed it was tradition to make strangers feel awkward and unwanted. No surprise there.

She made her way to the bar, pulling her buy'ce off as she walked. She had quickly learnt that leaving her face hidden was not a good idea. People got the wrong kind of impression. Isabet had already made her strength known to a few men with wondering hands. It was safe to say they wouldn't be using them again any time soon. She lowered her weight into a bar stool and ordered her usual tihaar. There would be conversation from someone soon, that was for certain. Without turning her head to look at anyone else she began her steady cycle of expensive booze and cheap conversation.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

The Ithorian chuckled along with his buddy and reached underneath the counter, producing a single glass. Placing it before the Enforcer, he then briefly turned and selected the bottle of Corellian Whiskey from the assortment of alcohol behind him. He then set about adding ice to the glass and then filled it to the brim with the liquor, setting the bottle within reach of Abel. That was his preference, after all, and he gratefully took the glass into his grasp. Raising it to his lips, Abel indulged in a hearty sip and exhaled upon swallowing. The Whiskey had a rich, full flavor that gave that good burn on the way down, just the way he liked it. "Thanks Otto." He added, raising the glass in a semi-toast. Otto gave a murmured reply, for he straightway began to prepare the beverage for the woman who had seated herself one stool away from Abel.

The Enforcer looked over, mid-sip, and liked what he saw.

A glance told him the story of her life, without even knowing her name. Her armor, so-called "beskar'gam" according to the few Mandalorians he had met at work, wore proud scars of battle. She had seen plenty of fights, of this there was no doubt, but her face was flawless. That meant that she was good at what she did; else she'd have "kark up" scars from things going wrong on the job. She was beautiful, not in that plastic, glamour sort of way; but had that battle-hardened attractiveness that made a layer of mud look as good as professional make up. This was the sort of woman Abel preferred: a woman who looked like she could kick his ass up and down the bar. His lips, curving into a smile, then parted as he spoke to her. He was respectful, as mama raised him right; but he was far from a kiss ass.

"Evenin'." He began, giving her a nod of acknowledgement, "The name's Abel. Got any good war stories to tell?" There wasn't any point in engaging in the typical small talk. "How are you?" and "Nice to meet you!" only went so far. In the Enforcer's mind, why bother? Just skip ahead to the interesting parts.

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

There it was. The gruff voice of a male a seat away from her. She couldn't help but crack a delicate smile as she lifted the drink to her lips. She couldn't see into the future but she was damn good at guessing it. She turned her head slightly and nodded. He was bold, straight to the point, and also damn attractive. He had a rugged "I don't give a feth." look about him. It was a pleasant change. Isabet put the drink back down and returned her gaze to the shelf of neatly arranged bottles. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of her both eye contact and conversation.

"Isabet. Don't you think you ought to buy me a drink first?" She curled the corners of her lips up again. This time a grin met her cheeks. Isabet had neither the time or the patience to be telling war stories to some perfect stranger. There normal boundaries of conversation had been adjusted slightly to fit her nature, and she was good at sticking to them. "But I like your attitude." She finished her drink, in one swift swallow. Isabet could already tell tonight would be interesting. The feeling came with his tone of voice and the way he looked. She couldn't deny, there was some excitement brewing inside her.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

A light chuckle escaped the Enforcer's lips in response to Isabet's words. Not only did she appeal to him physically, but now the personality was tugging at his notice. Taking his attention briefly away from the Mandalorian, Abel then looked to the Ithorian once more and motioned for him to approach. "Gimme the bottle of what she's having. Toss it on the tab." he said. To this, Otto simply chuckled and complied, setting the bottle beside his Corellian Whiskey. The Enforcer then slid over to the stool beside the woman, bottle in hand, and topped off her glass before setting it down within her reach. "Why stop at a drink, have the bottle." he said, topping off his own glass of Whiskey before gulping the entire shot down in a single go. He grit his teeth slightly and shook his head, exhaling as it hit the spot perfectly. "Ah, damn that's good." he mumbled before looking to Isabet once more.

"Alright Isabet, let's hear it. Tell me how your 'beskar'gam' got those scars."

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet raised a brow, followed by a wide smile. He knew how to please her and it definitely showed on her face. A Mandalorian never turned down a drink. Especially not a whole bottle. She glanced down at her glass as it was topped off. A gentlemen too? With every passing second she seemed to be enjoying Abel's company more and more. Ever surprised, she wrapped her fingers around the cup, lifting it to her lips. "You're a man after my own heart." She spoke as it met her skin. Isabet tipped the liquid down her throat, relishing in the heat of the alcohol as it settled in her stomach. She closed her eyes and exhaled, placing it down against the bar.

"They're from a battle against the one sith. Not too long ago." He had earned it at the very least. She tipped the bottle again, splashing more into the bottom of her glass. Isabet turned herself to face him as she took a short sip. "I was split off from my squad and ended up against a Sith Knight..." The recollection was slightly vague but the important parts were all there. She stopped, almost pondering, before emptying the contents of her glass once again. "It went well."

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

The words of the Mandalorian danced in the air and caused a brighter smile to form upon the Enforcer's lips. The tale of her beskar'gam's scars was one that brought forth a sea of feelings on the part of Abel, but it physically manifested in the raising of his glass. A toast, celebrating her victory. "A woman after my own heart." he said, giving her a subtle wink before indulging in a sip of his Corellian Whiskey. Abel found himself leaning ever so slightly closer to the woman, giving her the totality of his attention before he spoke again. "I'd wager that you kicked the ever-loving poodoo outta that Sith; and for that, I give you props." A chuckle escaped his lips whilst he looked upon her and he felt himself regretting the necessity of looking away. However, his glass was in desperate need of topping off and he'd make a fool of himself attempting to do so blindly.

Briefly, his eyes slid away from her face and settled upon the bottle whilst his hand moved, and he suddenly became very conscious of his movements. If his finger slipped and the bottle fell, he'd make a karking fool of himself...if he knocked over the glass, she'd probably laugh him out of her presense. These feelings were foreign, to say the very least, but Abel poured the drink as quickly and carefully as possible before setting the bottle back upon the counter. Raising the beverage to his lips, he used the flood of boldly-flavored liquor as a means to calm himself before speaking again; exhaling with satisfaction as the burn wormed its way down to his stomach. "I guess, now that the Empire is gone, fighting off these Sith scum is going to become a full-time job. You ever need an extra gun, give me a call."

And there it was, the "hook" so to speak.

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

If Isabet was prone to blushing, she would have. But his words did nothing but make her heart flutter. The sudden dread of a new feeling made her grimace, though she caught sight of his wink. In a rapid turn of expression, her frown lifted into an amused smile. "You wouldn't believe." She grinned again. For some reason she felt this conversation wasn't so bad. Compared to her previous others. Her words seemed to pour out of her mouth, without a second thought given to them. With the rapid addition of butterflies working up in her stomach, this was all together a peculiar experience.


Isabet took the time to refill her own glass as he did. The liquid almost overflowed but a steady hand meant that was no trouble. Either way, her first sip almost finished it off. She felt the notable effects of alcohol begin to stir in her body. A gentle tingle spread its way up her fingers toward her arms. His comment made her laugh, a long delicate chirp that seemed out of character for someone like Isabet. It died down into a low chuckle as she brought the rim of her glass back up to her lips. "Perhaps I will." She felt the need to again, refill her glass.


This time she took a much shorter sip, before turning her attention back to Abel. His strapping features were enough to steal the words from her mouth. It took her half a minute to realise that she was staring. Her gaze dropped to her gloves as she began to peel them away from her fingers. When out in the open, her fingers seemed elegant, almost fragile. Hardly the hands of a warrior. "So, you haven't told me what you do." Isabet couldn't tell just by looking at him, and so far she had looked at him a lot.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

Things were going rather well, at least in the Enforcer's opinion. However, this did not halt the momentary waves of overly-cautious thoughts that crossed his mind. He carefully considered each and every move he made now, from the raising of the glass to his lips to how gentle to set it down on the table. What's more, he had to make a consious effort to keep his hand from shaking; a fact that had never manifested itself before. Perhaps it was simply the fact that the alcohol was beginning to muddle with his senses, but karking up was a sin worse than murder in his current opinion. So, whilst careful not to make an arse out of himself, he spoke again. "Well, if you're going to consider calling, you'll need my number, won't you?"

It was a near contradiction when he talked. Though he was literally on edge, more so than when the authorities pulled over his freighter full of spice, his tone was confident...or at least, confident by his own definition. However, her question caused a new wave of nerves to wash over him, causing him to seek peace in the bottom of his glass. Straightway, silly thoughts claimed his mind: "What if she doesn't like what I do? What if she thinks less of me?" His first instinct was, of course, to imbellish his occupation to sound something akin to what he thought a Mandalorian would like to hear...but he then smothered that instinct with a pillow. Abel didn't know what he was seeking out of this conversation, but it was not just picking up a beskar-wearing beauty at the bar for a night of play.

There were skirts much easier than she if he simply wanted that; and Isabet had captivated him in a way much different than makeup and "sexy" clothes. As such, he decided to be moderately decent about answering and rattled ice about in his glass whilst mulling it over. "Honestly, my occupation depends on the day." he said, turning away briefly in order to fill his glass to the brim. "I mainly work as an Enforcer. I guard what needs to be guarded or bloody up whomever the employer points out. Other times, I'm a Runner. I get the 'good stuff' into the hands of paying customers. And sometimes, I'm a Hunter. Bounties don't capture themselves y'know." He raised the glass to his lips once more and indulged in a calming sip, hoping that his occupation met her approval. Then, in a display of "boldness", which truly was simply an attempt to change the subject, Abel made a suggestion.

"I'm actually here tonight celebrating having come into a new job...but, now that I've found someone whose company I enjoy, I'd like to live it up just a notch more. Whaddya say Isabet, care to join me?"

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet was numb as he smoke, though her features seemed to react naturally to his words. "I suppose I will." She took a hasty sip of her drink, placing it back down all to attentively. "Perhaps I should give you mine as well. Just in case you run into any along the way..." She glanced up at him with a small grin. She could already feel the hot flush rushing over her cheeks, thankfully the lighting made her skin seem no different. She had never felt such a nervous rush of unfamiliarity in her life. To quell the silence while she waited for his answer, she decided to finish off her drink.

It wasn't the answer she expected of course. In truth, it excited her all the more. Before she could answer the question, another intrepid comment escaped her mouth. Without thinking her gentle grin turned into a large smile. Isabet chuckled, biting her lower lip as she lifted the refilled glass to her lips. There was a nervous rush in her head and the alcohol did nothing to help. For some reason she seemed to be doubting herself in terms of his standards. Was this just a game to him? It left her with a confused look on her face as she pulled the glass away from her lips.

There was a small pause, with nothing but the dull conversation around them to fill the silence. She parted her lips, inhaling a little before the a sweet smile spread on her face. For some reason, she had managed to muster up a look of both adoration and fear. "I'd love too." There was a certain aspect of fear involving her part of their night together. Isabet had never involved herself in aspects of intimacy but there was nothing else to describe the way she was feeling now.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

The Enforcer was nothing if not...proactive...but he prayed that his current choice of action would not be seen as overeagerness in her eyes. He waited all of two seconds after she answered his "hook" before reaching for one of the napkins strewn about the countertop. Then, after fishing a pen out of his pant's pocket, he scrawled his number down and his name. 'Twould be worth a notice that, unlike most men, his handwriting was actually legible and not that bad aesthetically. He then slid the napkin over to her, leaving the pen on the counter before returning his attention to her once more. For reasons beyond him...he caught sight of her gently biting her lower lip; a simple, cute act that stirred something. Maybe he was just drunk but...he really liked that. He also liked her smile, quite a bit, and it caused him to grin when she smiled back at him.

"Alright," he began, giving her ample time to write down her digits before rising to his feet, "I've just the thing in mind. There's a casino not too far from here, just around the corner in fact. We can take this party over there, win a few credits and get a few more drinks in us. Sound like a plan to you Isabet?" Whilst speaking, he reached into his pocket once more and produced a wad of credits, enough to cover their respective drinks and be a decent tip as well. He laid the money on the counter and gave Otto a two-fingered salute, to which he was given a wave of gratitude. Then, facing Isabet once more, he offered his arm to her; a gentlemenly and affectionate thing to do.

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet followed suit, quickly scribbling down her details. She slid the napkin off the bar, pushing it into a pocket on her belt. Her hands were shaking and the alcohol did nothing to hide it. Though it offered a comforting feeling of anticipation. The next few hours were going to be incredible, the knots in her stomach confirmed it. But there still seemed to be a lingering sense of fear. A thousand questions buzzed in her head, that only she could figure out the answers to. Isabet was hardly what one would call patient. Having to wait to discover all these answers was nerve wrecking enough.

She gathered her things, sliding her gloves on as she listened to him talking. For some reason, he was the only voice she could hear. The others blocked out by the music, which seemed to be a wild attempt to liven the place up. It was a soothing sound that momentarily paused all of her worries. As she lifted her buy'ce off the table, she nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." She met his face with a smile, sliding her arm into his. Admittedly, the beskar'gam seemed to weight her down now she had been drinking.

Linked onto his arm, Isabet almost felt silly in the armour. Though it was her second skin and held most of her affection, it just wasn't suited for some occasions. Nar Shaddaa was a damn good reason to be wearing it, but walking beside him...she almost felt safe. Nothing could harm her. Plus, he looked entirely too handsome to be walking beside a drunken war crazed Mandalorian.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

In the second following the Mandalorian's scribbling down of her details, the Enforcer reached out his hand and took the napkin in hand. With his nerves screaming in protest, begging him to abandon this pursuit; or to at least move with supreme care, Abel split the napkin in two. The portion holding his information was left for her to store within her pocket and he did the same, giving it a neat fold before stowing it within his pant's pocket. He then tarried there, patiently, as Isabet got her things together; and utilized this opportunity to take yet another swig of Whiskey. The reason for this was two fold: to combat the growing butterflies...and to prevent him from seeming like the impatient type by standing there, gauking. Once her gloves were back in place, he made the offer of his arm, to which she gladly accepted; and Abel lead the way out of the establishment.

To say that Abel was...blissfully intoxicated was an understatement. His balance was slowly, but surely, being sent out of the window and his vision was beginning to blur. However, he could definitely handle himself whilst in this state. The only downside of this was a loosening of his tongue. Typically-speaking, Abel had a built-in, mental filter that kept all the bad, karked up thoughts from escaping through his mouth. However, now that he was borderline drunk, that filter was rendered inoperable. An example of this was his looking at her once they reached the door and his lips curving into a smile before he said. "Y'know, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of escorting to a door." Of course, the wordage probably had some slight slurring in it; but was still easily understood. As the night would wear on, this would undoubtedly change.

After holding the door aloft for her to step out of first, his eyes began to appreciate the beskar'gam that she wore. It fit her flawlessly, both metaphorically and physically. 'Twas a new thing for Abel to find armor...attractive, but the way she wore that Mandalorian armor caused heat to tinge his cheeks. However, he managed not to say a word in response to these thoughts and began to lead her down the street, arm-in-arm. The walk to the Casino was not a long one...though it felt like a small eternity due to the inebriation. Abel was never more nerve-wracked in his life, for he pleaded with his body not to trip and make both of them faceplant along the way. Thankfully, nothing of the sort occurred and they arrived in one, drunken piece. Holding the door open once more, the sounds of gambling machines and loud voices greeted them; a thought that caused Abel to grin.

"What shall we hit first?" he inquired, as his arm gently lowered. Awkwardly, his fingers touched hers and...acted on their own accord, gently wrapping about her hand. Now, as opposed to walking arm in arm, he held her hand through the mouth of the casino, woefully ignorant to the fact that his body was acting on its own. "I'm thinking the slots. I-I can't exactly read cards like this!" came his admittance. Gambling drunk at a table was a good way to lose their credits, clothes, and incur debts; but slot machines were harmless fun! Especially with waitresses wandering about with free drinks. "What do you say beautiful?"

@[member="Isabet Kote"].

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet couldn't help but beam. His arm linked in hers felt like the most natural thing in the world. She couldn't tell whether it was her drunken state or something else, something bigger then she had means to understand right now. Regardless, she felt on top of the world as the two strode out of the door and into the night. His comment didn't go unnoticed, but all Isabet could do was widen her smile. There was a part of her that screamed to run and abandon this, but it was overwhelmed by a sensation she had never felt before. Her heart seemed to be beating in her throat and her tongue caught on everything she was trying to say. Though she had an immense desire to converse with him about a manner of things, she settled for remaining quiet. She'd hate to embarrass herself.

The cool night air that surrounded the two as they walked offered some comfort to the situation. Despite not making it too obvious, Isabet was feeling awkward. The rapid development of her feelings toward Abel had left her confused and utterly raw. She had hoped she would have been much stronger than that, but it seemed he had stolen her heart in a matter of minutes. As they stepped into the bar, he posed a question. She answered in an instant, without missing a beat. "The bar."

Then something happened. She felt the warmth of his fingers brushing against her own. Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, curling around his as he laced them together. The simple action brought her stomach to join her heart. It felt like fireworks going off inside her, exploding in bangs and multicoloured sparks. Isabet exhaled silently through her nose. The alcohol was definitely adding to this all together mind blowing experience. She nodded in agreement, the slots were the safest bet. His flattering comments did nothing to quell the bubbling sensation in her stomach. "I think that's a good idea."

But first, she wanted to try something. Her fingers squeezed his gently. She had suddenly found a bucket load of courage and Isabet decided to put it to good use. She lent forward, finding his lips with her own. The kiss didn't last more then a few seconds, but the feeling she received would last all night. As she pulled away she looked down, her cheeks turned a scarlet red. Suddenly, the idea didn't seem so good, but it was too late to turn back now.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

Two possible courses of action awaited the Enforcer and the Mandalorian, and it seemed that it was up to Abel to steer the ship in either direction. He could, as per Isabet's statement, lead them directly to the bar to get more drinks in them. Or, he could take them to the slots. Either choice sounded fine in his book, but he took a moment to consider that which she might find more enjoyable. Of course, he leaned in the direction of what she had suggested; but before he could get a clear decision in mind, something amazing happened. As he absent-mindedly shifted from being arm-in-arm with his beautiful companion to holding her hand, her fingers laced through his in turn. Then, before he knew it, she had leaned forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss.

She lingered there for a moment and Abel stood, dumbfounded. His eyes were wide, his heart drummed away, and his cheeks were bright red! When she stood back, the realization struck him that he had not responded at all...he had just stood there. Racing thoughts then formed in his mind! 'Aw crap!' he said to himself frantically, 'She's going to think that I didn't like it...I did like it...A-Ah, kark...' Then, inhaled a deep, calming breath and steeled himself; swallowing his nerves boldly. Perhaps it was the alcohol that had led him to being so easily courageous...or stupid...but he decided to make absolutely certain that Isabet knew he wasn't turned off or repulsed in the least. His offhand snaked around her waist for a moment and a gentle smirk touched his lips.

"Next time, give a guy some warning beautiful." he said softly, before leaning forward. He then captivated her lips with a kiss of his own, taking a step forward as to deepen it. Whilst his lips danced upon hers, metaphorical fireworks were going off in his head...That and the sound of ten thousand chimps losing their minds...After a handful of seconds, he leaned back and touched his brow briefly to hers. "Well...That was...Amazing..." he breathed, taking a moment to absently brush a stray hair away from her eyes. The attraction that Abel felt for the woman baffled him...but at the same time, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. There was an enormous divide between his feelings and all common sense, but for now he was going to just enjoy this ride.

"To the bar it is." he said finally, leading them forward. As opposed to holding hands now, he simply kept his arm snaked around her waist as he guided them through the busy lobby. Then, they arrived at a familiar scene: a bar counter. However, unlike the seedy joint they had just came from, the casino bar had live entertainment in the form of a pianist not too far away. She, a Twi'lek, sang a rather romantic tune and played a light song. It was like the Galaxy itself was putting together a night to remember between the two, a fact that caused Abel to smile. "So, what's it like being a Mandalorian?" he asked, posing a seemingly-random question. Of course, he was always curious of this, but never had the opportunity to ask.

@[member="Isabet Kote"]

 

[Isabet Denko]

There was nothing she could do but blush at the floor. He hadn't reacted to her kiss but that was the least that was on her mind. She had done something so outrageous, even for herself. The sudden intimacy of it came as a huge shocker. She didn't expect to feel anything remotely close to the way she did. Isabet didn't even have the courage to look up at him when he spoke. Then she tasted something familiar, his lips against hers. Isabet's eyes fluttered shut, determined to focus everything on the connection of their skin. Her arms snaked around his neck, which only seemed to add to the growing sensation that welled up inside her.

Her eyes didn't even open. She was too captivated in the ecstasy of the moment. Though she didn't want it to end she was overwhelmed by the urge to drink. Isabet was well aware of how intimate things were getting between the two. She was still terrified of getting to close. Her eyes only opened when she felt the gentle tug of his arm around her waist. It felt strange, having the extra weight resting against her hips. Her head rushed as she sat down at the bar, ordering her tihaar as Abel spoke.

For the first time since they entered the bar, she made full eye contact with him. Though they had the familiar glaze of a drunk, they seemed to light up. "I don't quite know what you mean." She gave off a short, slightly slurred laugh as she took up the bottle that was set down for her. After pouring two glasses of the clear liquid, Isabet pushed one toward Abel as she continued. "What do you know about us already? No doubt you assume we're drunken and insane as most do. I'm not really helping the stereotype am I?" As soon as she started speaking, words seemed to pour out of her mouth. It was almost natural now. Whether it was the alcohol or the insane connection between the two, Isabet couldn't tell.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

Although the Enforcer had been drinking like a fish long before he was of legal age, he had never before sampled the so-called "tihaar": the Mandalorian beverage of choice. Of course, he was far too intoxicated at this point to remotely care about what sort of drink he dumped down into his gullet, and so tilted back his head; consuming several sips of the clear liquor before giving a satisfied exhale. This sudden consumption did not do anything to help his growing case of drunkiness; and that built-in filter that prevented him from saying idiotic things had officially been replaced by one that encouraged them. With a bemused smile, he reached out a hand, gently moving aside a stray strand of Isabet's hair before leaning forward, brushing his lips upon hers. Now that they were on a...first name and kissing basis...the intoxicated Abel threw caution to the wind and gave into the desire bubbling within him.

The sensation was brief, yet just as intoxicating as the alcohol the two shared. It left him breathless, crimson-cheeked, and craving more. Of course, he was still nervous; but his nerves were slowly but surely being buried under a mountain of inebriation and the boldness which came from the state. "What do I know of the Mandalorians..." he muttered softly, gently touching his brow to hers. "Well, I know that they kick ass up and down the Galaxy; and if you ever see one on the opposing side you'd best run for your life. I know that they are deadly, strong, and always have on their armor...and I now know that, underneath the helmet of one Mandalorian, is the most beautiful face I've ever seen." He paused, raising the glass to his lips once more before continuing.

"I'm ignorant to the stereotype that you speak of, however. I've never heard of Mandalorians having been spoken of as drunken or insane..."

@Isabet Kote.

 

[Isabet Denko]

Woops double post.

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet watched, her undivided attention placed on the curve of his adam's apple. Her heart skipped a beat. Though it only lasted a second, she felt like her body had been captured mid-air. There was nothing she could do to stop the gentle smile that met the curve of her lips as he lent forward. His warm touch almost melted her, it took great strength not to let a captivated sigh escape. She no longer cared that her head spun or that her body throbbed with a numbing sensation. There was only a growing sensation of passion and longing.

Usually, she would describe the entire emotion as lust. Yet there was something more that drew her to press her lips gently against his. Though they only lingered for a moment, she had never felt more entranced by movement. She happily rested her head against his as he came close. Her fingers danced across the span of his thigh as he talked. It seemed to quell her desire long enough for her to muster a reply.

"You flatter me." It was all she could manage to say and truly, she did feel flattered. She closed her eyes for a moment, if only to gain the courage to pull her hand away from his leg. The sudden flood of aching hunger returned as her finger tips left the warmth of his flesh. She drank the rest of her drink. The burning sensation that followed gave her enough courage to say what she had to say.

"I quite like you, Abel. A lot." Her words were quiet and had the tone that only an embarrassed drunk could hold. Isabet decided it best to keep her eyes cast to her legs. The fear that his reaction would be something negative was definitely stronger after she had opened her mouth. But the words tumbled out, and here she sat. A warrior, her cheeks flushed and her voice small, leaving herself open for an attack.

@[member="Abel Denko"]