Faction [TSC] WELCOME TO 1313 | OPEN

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's expression shifted almost imperceptibly as Tamsin choked down the watered shot and immediately regretted it. For a moment, she simply watched, head tilted slightly, taking in the girl's indignant protest and the bartender's total lack of concern.

Then, quietly, she let out a soft breath that might have been the beginning of a laugh.

"That…did not look like what you ordered," she said mildly, her voice steady despite the pounding music around them. "I am fairly certain it changed personalities halfway down."

She eased a little closer to the group, not crowding them, just enough to signal that she was part of the conversation now rather than a stranger hovering at its edge. Her coat shifted with the movement, dark fabric catching faint strips of neon before losing them again.

"Tamsin," she repeated gently, more as confirmation than correction. "It is nice to meet you. Even under…hostile beverage conditions."

Her eyes flicked briefly to the empty glass, then back to Tamsin's face, curiosity there rather than judgment.

"I am still trying to determine whether this place is supposed to be overwhelming on purpose," she admitted lightly. "Or if that is simply a side effect."

She glanced around the club as she spoke, the shifting lights, the press of bodies, the noise that never quite became background, then returned her attention to the bar.

Her gaze lingered on Varin for half a second longer than necessary, taking in the seventh drink, the unfocused datapad attempt, the way he was trying very hard to appear functional.

A faint hint of amusement touched her eyes.

"I think you are being very brave," she told him evenly, "or very optimistic. Possibly both."

Then she turned back to Tamsin, her tone softer again.

"As for mysterious notes," she added, "I cannot tell yet whether that is exciting or deeply suspicious. I am still collecting data. I would be curious to know what you think," she continued, genuinely. "You seem like someone who notices things quickly."

She took a small sip of her own drink at last, as if finally deciding it was safe enough to try.

"For now," Iandre finished quietly, "I am glad I wandered into this corner of the bar. It is… considerably more interesting than standing alone and pretending I understand what is happening on the dance floor."

Her eyes moved between them, open and attentive.

"And slightly safer."

Tamsin Starfall Varin Mortifer Tatiana Sah Ghruna

 

[Tatiana Sah]

Tatiana's smile broadened at Varin's acceptance. Excellent. Not all club dwellers enjoyed conversation with their drink, and if you pressed them they could get loud or physical. Sometimes both. It wasn't her intention to cause a fuss. If that had been the aim, Tatiana could have found far more effective ways than chatting someone up at the bar.

The pair turned to regard Ghruna as the woman took not of the lack of physical confrontation. A simple question soon diverted with Varin's prank on Tamsin. Blue eyes regarded the man silently as he put some machinations in motion. It would have only reinforced her interest in discovering why, so it was delightful Varin did get around to the explanation soon afterward. It spoke nothing of the specifics, but the general motivation made sense -- even if Tatiana didn't quite understand why so many people were occupied with 'revenge.'

"Of course there is." Tatiana leaned in a little closer. "Your physical height isn't just a visual draw, but its rarity speaks of a people that does not often interact with the wider galaxy. Whether by choice or lack of numbers, your species must have countless cultural and social differences that would be worth learning about. I am something of a student of the galaxy." Every scrap of data was worth collecting.

Another woman drew near, Iandre, which distracted Varin for a moment. They seemed inclined to engage Tamsin, which should prove useful.

When Varin was finished with his datapad, Tatiana leaned back over in his direction. "If you'd like, I could fix your screen. It would only take a moment."

With a blink, she straightened up with a smile again. "I haven't had the pleasure of visiting The Core yet. Republic, Imperial, and now Sith influences are sure to be found across this developed world. In fact, Coruscant is a shocking testament of this galaxy's endurance and resourcefulness." There was a brief pause before Tatiana turned to look out into the club and then back to Varin. "But here... I heard today was a special occasion. Always time to see the sights. You must make time for the limited-time opportunities."

Speaking of opportunities, Tamsin seemed inclined to make an announcement of all those in Varin's orbit.

Tatiana turned to look over at the tall woman. "Ghruna, nice to meet you. I am Tatiana." Tamsin had done the honors; it seemed only fair to let the tall woman know her name since Tamsin had not announced it for the club.

Varin Mortifer | Ghruna | Tamsin Starfall | Iandre Athlea | OPEN

 

[Nunterc Trundiav]

T H E - B O S S B A N - O F - P O R T - N O W H E R E

Nunterc chose not to turn his head, opting instead to observe the real Tamsin Starfall below without acknowledging the projection just yet. His interest in the girl was reinforced by their sudden use of the force; although he lacked such a gift himself, he saw no harm in examining its impact on business within the Criminal Underworld.

These impacts were significant, especially considering the presence of the Guts, a rough neighborhood where law enforcement dared not venture. What little law remained on this war-torn planet was overshadowed by the remnants of the Brotherhood of the Maw and the Dark Empire still clawing for power beneath the surface.

He took a slow sip of the beverage within his hand, as the Mythosaur Supercommandos moved with the subtle clatter of armor, their T-shaped visors swiveling toward the apparition. One of them shifted his grip on a heavy repeater, the mechanical whir of the weapon's cooling vents a low growl in the booth.

"Stand down," Nunterc rasped, as the Mandalorians went rigid, returning to their positions as silent sentinels. Finally he turned his head just a moment towards the flickering image of the older, darker Tamsin. This one radiated power and was likely a much better business partner than the girl hanging down by the bar surrounded by people of ill-intent.

He waved his hand dismissively at the comment, "Rest assured. I have no fondness for physical pleasures like women. I am simply a Bothan with a sharp eye for detail, and my observations suggest that you are someone worth connecting with. You got my note, and your presence here indicates that you are at least intrigued." He clarified, aware that his note might have been discarded if the girl believed the Bothan was merely stalking her. No, she was as curious about him as he was about her.

A shared understanding as he gestured with a slow movement of his hand towards the empty seat across from him. Below, he could see the physical Tamsin beginning her ascent, her small frame navigating the sea of spice-addled dancers and hulking mercenaries.

 

[Mercy]

​

The large mountain wasn't certain how long it had been since Arris Windrun had disappeared through the backdoor of the gritty bar they had been sitting in and drinking. A gaggle of cybernetic freaks had passed by, promising an oil change and parts swapping, which Mercy had taken for some really freaky innuendo.

You go girl, Arris - had been her thought several hours (or was it an hour? or just thirty minutes? Time was hard when Mercy was kind of drunk) ago, but now it seemed utterly ridiculous.

It didn't come into her mind that Windrun might be in trouble.

That something had happened.

If that was a testament to her faith in her friend or a general lack of care for people was the open question.

She began a text to Arris-

Hey dick, I thought we were coming out to drink ourselves into a stupor together. It's one thing to leave for a quick rut, but this is just rude. If you think I am going to pay for your drinks, you got another thing coming for you.

That is what Mercy had tried to type, but she was several gallons into her cups. She didn't really like typing in the first place. So now that she was slightly inebriated she committed even more to the bit.

It was more like:

hey dck

i thot we were goin out to drink ourselves into a stupor 2gether

its 1 thing 2 go off 4 a "quick rut" (???) but this is just rde

if u think im payin 4 ur drinks youve got anothr thing comign 4 u

come bak or i start auctioning ur boots

Yeah, that would show her. Mercy slowly got herself off of her seat, using the bar to steady herself. The bartender was looking a bit anxious, because when big things fell down, it caused property damage all around town. And he had just witnessed her drinking enough to make a shi'ido collapse into a coma without skipping a beat.

Now Mercy was navigating her way through the crowd.

So far so good. She hadn't bumped into anyone just yet. From her perspective anyway. From everyone else's perspective they were dodging and rolling to get out of her way.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Coruscant - 1313

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Voices layered over one another in Basic and Huttese and half a dozen dialects too slurred to name. A pair of Nikto argued over a crate of stripped blaster components. A Devaronian woman laughed too loud outside a doorway hung with torn bead curtains. Two droids, one missing a forearm, bartered in clipped binary near a chop shop lit by flickering work lamps.

Further down the alley, three Covenant acolytes stood in loose conversation, black fabric and sigils subtle but unmistakable if you knew how to look. They clocked him as he passed. They didn't stop him or question him, as Arris Windrun 's apprentice, he did not answer to them. That privilege still held, despite his current predicament.

Ace moved through the press at a controlled pace. The Guts shifted around him, bodies parting on instinct more than recognition. He felt eyes trail him and then slide away.

Sibylla's message had reached him hours ago. Lorn was coming. The timing couldn't have been worse. Madelyn's report was already circulating through internal channels, the Covenant knew there was a mole. A traitor. And now a Jedi Knight was walking into Level 1313 looking for him.

By the time he'd received the transmission, it had been too late to redirect Lorn. Too late to warn him off without creating new patterns. So instead of preventing the fire, Ace would have to manage it. Douse it.

He let his awareness stretch outward, not searching, just... listening. The Guts made Force perception imprecise. Too many minds. Too much static. Lorn had dimmed himself well. The signature was muted, folded inward. But bonds did not disappear so easily.

There was no clear beacon. No luminous presence. Just… a familiarity. A quiet tension in the Thread. Like recognizing the weight of someone's footsteps through a floor you'd walked a thousand times.

Ace entered the gambling den, pausing just inside. Rodian. Human. Twi'lek. A Gran with a cybernetic eye. Two local toughs pretending not to watch the door. And then... there. Hood low. Shoulders set too straight. Even relaxed, Lorn carried himself like open air in a room that had never known it. Not rigid. Not arrogant. Aligned. The stillness of someone who understood space.

It separated him from the rot without him trying to. Ace did not alter his expression. He walked past the table Lorn was sat at without slowing, crossing to the bar instead. He rested one forearm along its worn edge. The bartender, a scarred Duros with tired eyes, approached without comment.

"Scarif Slush." Ace said evenly.

Behind him, cards hissed across a sabacc table. Ace stared at the mirror behind the bar, catching the room in fractured reflection.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Naniti]

"Someone's got to keep them in line. Otherwise all those fancy Lords'll let this place become the next Desevro." That wasn't quite how it worked, but it was close enough. Sith Lords only cared about appearance and power. And appearance didn't cover the fact that people couldn't find any decent food or enjoy a shower -- it covered them looking powerful. How a decent quality of living didn't demonstrate power was beyond the Togruta. They didn't let their Acolytes run amok in class, so they obviously understood the importance of discipline and order. Natural extension of that was order outside of the classroom; which usually stopped at 'show deference to your Lord.' So short sighted.

Then again, Naniti did see things differently. Literally.

Naniti made a concerted effort to pass as close to Lysander as possible without actually making contact. Given a Togruta had echolocation she was able to pull it off with the precision only seen in holonovels. It was important to feel noticed.

"Coruscant's big enough on its own." She refrained from rehashing their previous conversation about The Core as a whole. "Between looking for hidden caches left behind by Imperial or Republic, I spend my time conversing with the locals."

Naniti's gait wasn't particular fast, but it wouldn't take long before they drew near the stall. Her blue eyes swept over it and landed on the person tucked inside. "Everyone's afraid of what Sith Rule means. So, I help them understand it. How far to go. What to expect. Who they can contact." Namely: herself. "People just want things to move fluidly. Even the underworld."

"Beef or chicken?" she asked once they stood in front of the food vendor. Surprisingly balanced meal on the menu, but with a few options for meat. Naniti hoped it was at least half as good as it smelled. At least she could foretell it wouldn't result in food poisoning.

"What about you?" There was an urge to add his title as playful ribbing, but Lysander hadn't been overjoyed in the promotion so Naniti held back. "Cooking up a full curriculum for the Academy?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Anet Raine]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Reina Daival | Quinn Varanin

"'Net! Long time, no see. What'cha drinking?"

When Anet's scouting gaze drifted back to neutral, she was nearly startled to hear Reina's voice and see the redhead standing in front of her booth. Some of her drink bubbled up, a consequence of her gasp as she sipped.

"Sheesh!" Anet exclaimed, then smirked, and took a second shot at sipping. Casual and all that. As if nothing happened. Nothing at all.

"Reina," she responded coolly, "Not that long. I didn't expect to see you in 1313 again." Pale eyes flicked over to Quinn. "And who's your friend?"

She asked as if she didn't recognize the visage of the Sith Princess and Queen of Eshan in the flesh. Still, she figured the woman didn't get off on recognition, and Anet - of all people - understood well the trappings of celebrity thanks to her own mother.

That said, before they arrived, Anet had noticed someone acknowledging her attention near the bar. She set her glass down and rose slowly.

With a gesture to the booth. "Please, join me?" She asked. "And do excuse me... I think I saw a friend, and I'd like to say hello. I'll be back, I promise!"

Anet slid out of the booth and sauntered through the crowd towards the bar. She wasn't one to play things quietly. So whoever this stranger was, and whatever she wanted, the acolyte was determined to find out. When she arrived at the bar, Anet tapped the left shoulder of a man occupying the space beside Adelle, and when he looked left to see who it was, she pushed shoulders and slid into the space between them.

He turned and scoffed, looked ready to fight, but Anet wasn't shy - she was reckless. The acolyte tapped the lightsaber at her hip. He looked down, then back up, grumbled a few derogatory Huttese remarks, and fucked off.

With him gone, Anet turned her attention fully to Adelle, head a bit low.

"Well, that was forward of you... Unless you're buying everyone drinks tonight?"

 

[Eira Dyn]

Objective: 3 - Post clubbing
Outfit: Club Outfit
Tags: Arris Windrun | Allyson Locke

The industrial music of the lower levels was something that Eira could enjoy. There was plenty of opportunity to dance, grind and lose herself to the music. Eira was rarely one for wanting to let loose or for completely lowering the Sith guarded exterior that Eira was known for demonstrating. She found herself on Coruscant and it was the first time she could celebrate the fall of the New Jedi Order and in her mind, basically the downfall of the Jedi. While remnants linger out there, she did not consider real threats or organised enough to worth too much concern. And while the Alliance had dissolved for a while now, Eira's focus was more on her studies and she truly wanted to celebrate this victory on the former capital of the Galactic Alliance.

But the imperials had kept a hold on it till they were dealt with by the Sith Covenant.

Eira was cautious with the Covenant due to her previous interactions with outsiders claiming Sith titles. The previous meeting of Sith opened Eira's eyes to the biggest issues that the Sith held. An eagerness to devolve into internal fighting. It was far too easy for that to happen and any new Sith power always felt like there was a risk of that. For now though, Eira saw the chance to visit Coruscant and a chance to relax for a moment. So she came to the city world and instantly made her way to the lower levels to hit the club scene.

While Eira wasn't much of a drinker, she did get drunk off the party energy and atmosphere around her.

Stepping out of the last club she was visiting for the night, Eira sauntered down the alley. She wasn't even sure what the time was any more but she was definitely enjoying herself. Stumbling a few more steps as she felt the exhaustion hit her like a wave. As she stifled a yawn and spotted a pair in the deep alley where the trash and drunkards were left behind.

"Evening...morning? Afternoon?" Eira really did not know the time of day anymore, it felt like she had spent days in clubs. "Sorry, got lost... in the partying. Am I interrupting some back alley fun? Not judging!" Eira laughed, then tried to think where she might recognise the two faces. But names and faces were a bit difficult for her to recall.

 

[Ghruna]

PARTY

Varin Mortifer Tatiana Sah

Her brow furrowed as Varin ordered water. She glanced sideways at Varin.

"Hmm," she went. She offered a smile and kept her gaze down to avoid giving away the joke.

Her attention shifted when Tatiana addressed her properly. Ghruna straightened slightly at the sound of her name spoken without mockery.

"I greet you Tatiana," she replied, which was the closest translation to how it would have been spoken in her tongue.

Tatiana leaned closer, speaking of rarity and culture and endurance.

For a moment, Ghruna thought the woman was speaking about yet. She had come from an isolated culture.

Another glance and she decided Tatiana was far more interested in learning about Varin. So Ghruna ordered another drink and knocked it back.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn felt him before he saw him. A familiar tension in the Force, threaded through the noise. He kept his eyes on his cards. The shift was there though. Ace's presence used to feel open, bright at the edges. Now it was tightened down, sharpened. Contained. The Covenant has its hooks in you, he thought. And I let it happen.

"Fold," Lorn said quietly.

He pushed his remaining credits forward to settle the buyout. The dealer gave him a look, annoyed at the short play. Lorn ignored it and stood. The room pressed in again, heat and bodies and cheap perfume. He crossed to the bar and took the empty space one seat down from the young man. Close enough. Not close enough to draw eyes.

"Corellian whiskey," Lorn said.

The bartender poured without comment. Lorn rested his forearms against the worn metal and looked straight ahead into the mirror behind the bar. The reflection gave him what he needed without turning his head. Ace looked worse. Lorn's stomach dropped.

His gaze stayed fixed on the mirror. "You took it out," Lorn muttered, voice low and even. "The tracker."

He took a moment.

"Your highborn friend seemed concerned."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

“You’re not wrong.”

No need to spell it out. Sure, Coruscant was a theater of power and pretense; he never cared much for the stage. Not until recently. But the backstage, in places like this? He’d take that over Desevro. Some might even call that settling, but enough time spent around the Outer Rim’s wild edges made it feel more like sensible survival.

The space beside him warmed by a degree. His chin lifted, cultivating aloofness, pretending he was above such antics. One second later, a sidelong glance betrayed him. A single brow drifted upward to fracture his composure. Quietly enjoying the nonverbal banter? Absolutely allowed. Lysander would blame her entirely for it, too.

Naniti’s answer painted an image of her sifting through ancient dust; their holocron hunt on Korriban was likely responsible.

“Turn up anything useful?”

She almost made it sound like there were maps being handed out in the storm. Plenty of ways to read that.

His fingers began to uncurl. “You know, they will always get the wrong idea, I guess. They push back, get scared, or just think they already have it all figured out. Stuff changes in ways we can't even imagine. Most people just see the end result.. or the screw-up. And even then, they'll misread even that, somehow. Rarely do they notice the choices that led there."

Too revealing, he realized. But, he Togruta was great at picking up on every shift around her. Maybe he wanted her to pick up on his, too.

Grace under the Covenant was a fantasy; stability and direction, perhaps not. People didn’t move in straight lines, and neither did plans, but someone had to keep the framework intact. Or make the attempt.

For a few strides, he was given a glimpse of how her presence navigated through the space around them. His emerald gaze barely grazed the menu before circling back to her. "Beef."

A hopeful quirk warmed his lips as he added, “You’ll forgive me if it’s not perfectly seasoned, won’t you Naniti?”

When she nudged him about the Academy, his voice fell into an easy rhythm. “No, not quite there yet. Mostly lightsaber instruction for now. I'm still spending a great deal of time correcting and improving fundamentals. Many acolytes arrive believing they understand discipline. Most of them don’t. So, we begin there." Mid-breath he paused for a moment. “When demonstrating something every day, or breaking different techniques down, I’m forced to examine it more critically than I would alone. There’s nothing to hide behind.. if I can’t explain why something works.. then I don’t understand it well enough.”

Words carried on, and his hand trailed toward a pocket. “Drilling them means I drill myself. If I let my guard down, they'll sense it sooner or later. And if I slack off, or cut any corner.. they'll inherit that weakness from me. But.. I find true satisfaction in it, by holding them to a higher standard. Of course, it also forces me to do the same. So in that way, we grow together.”

A few credits were procured, and without looking down, he guided them into her palm. "I insist you let me pay… think of it as the final step in our little dinner agreement."

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin took a slower sip as Tamsin introduced him, a sly grin on his face as she prepped to tip back her water shot. After her exclamation he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Looks like you are having a hard time holding your liquor, Tamsin.”

He looked over at Iandre as he slipped his datapad back in his pack.

“Some would call it foolish, I call it fun.”

He gave her a soft smile then looked back to Tatiana as she got his attention, he gently sat the glass down and turned to face her in his chair.

“A student? Well, what would you like to know? But fair warning, I could just be a REALLY big human. Some have been recorded to get bigger than me, it's exceedingly rare but it happens.”

He looked back at his pack after she offered to fix his screen, his fingers gently rested on his chin as he thought for a moment. As he thought he listened to her speak of her experience or lack there of with the Core, then brought the focus directly to Coruscant and this very bar and its celebration..

“You have never been to the Core?”

He asked quietly at first, then gently picked up the bottle again pouring himself and her another glass of the strong stuff.

“Well, welcome to Coruscant, Tatiana.”

He finished pouring and held his glass out to her.

“Today is absolutely a special occasion. Today you, Ghruna, Iandre and Tamsin are able to draw breath today. That is not always promised tomorrow by any means.”

He spoke lightly of the grim subject, but to Varin, in a galaxy as chaotic as this one, tomorrow is never a guarantee. He tipped his now eighth drink back and cleared his throat a bit.

“Two things. Number one, before I tell you about my life and culture and what not, tell me about yours. I promise I will make good on giving you any detail you wish of my people, if I can provide it.”

He opened the bottle again and poured the liquid into his next glass before continuing.

“And two, how exactly do you plan to fix my datapad?”

He then looked over to Ghruna.

“Bonus, Ghruna, you look absolutely wonderful today, I am happy you made it here.”

Varin blinked a few times when he realised he had just said something completely out of character to him, inside he sincerely hoped that Ghruna understood he was just being honestly nice to her and not trying to mock her in any way.

“This stuff really does change a person.”

He studied the glass a bit.

Tatiana Sah | Ghruna | Iandre Athlea | Tamsin Starfall​

 

[Gillem]

GILLEM

Gillem turned his head to face the short critter known as Riffraff and gave her the biggest stink eye he had given anyone, pain dulled but radiated up his side as he felt like his body was thirsting for a cigarette.

“Has no one called animal control yet for you?”

He smirked slightly as he stood up straight, wincing slightly as his rib cracked back into place. He then tilted his head to the side until another audible crack could be heard.

“Besides, you should see the other guy.”

He looked down at her overalls, the handle of a decently sized revolver hung from the fabric.

“That is quite an iron you got, Riff. Can you handle it?”

He noticed she was smoking something and a slight scowl came to his face. A light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, he could taste that sweet sweet tabac right now, he would do almost anything for it.

“Please tell me you have more of those, I need a cigarette or something, Riff. And remember I helped you in the lower levels.”

He pointed a mechanical finger at her.

“Or….we could draw for the one in your hand?”

He smirked.

“You versus a crippled and disheveled old man? I think you got this in the bag. Beanbag shots only. Whaddaya say?”

Riffraff Ranat​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Club Cadaver
Tags: Anet Raine | Indirect: Quinn Varanin | Reina Daival

There was movement from the booth out of the corner of her eye. Adelle kept her breathing steady, even as a shot of adrenaline pulsed through her veins. This still required patience and timing. Especially if this woman didn’t have the specific knowledge she needed and didn’t feel like playing informant.

The woman pushed her way between the male next to Adelle. She watched sidelong as the man turned, mouth opened to start a fight, when the woman patted something at her hip. Adelle’s awareness sharpened and she winced internally. With all the Dark Side energy hanging about the club like a miasma, she hadn’t noticed any presence from the Sith woman.

And she had just invited her over. Corellia’s nine fething hells.

Maybe, maybe she could still work with this.

Adelle lifted her eyebrows at the very direct approach, although she supposed if you wielded power like a sledgehammer, you could take that risk.

“They say fortune favors the bold,” she said, taking a sip from her ale. She looked up at the Pantoran. “And with as big a party as this is, I prefer to spend my creds on quality rather than quantity.”

“You don’t seem to mind forward, so I’ll be direct. I’m in the market for information and you look like someone that deals with information. If you have what I need, we can discuss compensation.”

Adelle turned back to her drink. “If you don’t but a business arrangement sounds agreeable, we can talk. If neither of those sound like your cup of ale, well . . . I hope you enjoy the drink.”

 

[Anet Raine]

Direct: Adelle Bastiel
Tags: Reina Daival | Quinn Varanin
Wearing: This Fit | Sith Choker

Perhaps this woman was lucky that Anet was wearing her choker. Between that and the rowdy crowd, she was unable to sense the stranger's emotions.

Her brow quirked in question as Adelle explained her interest. Ah, so Anet thought, this wasn't about her. Well, it was, just not like that. Was she disappointed? Hard to tell, but Reina knew what Anet was like at parties. Her brow fell back to neutral, though a smirk found purchase at the corner of her mouth.

She feigned a sigh, "Good to know that I look so well-informed," Anet followed with a chuckle. "So - three questions for you then."

She turned towards the woman, leaning an elbow on the bar. "First. What information? Second, what compensation?"

And third, her smirk widened. "Hello, I'm Anet. And you are?"

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Club Cadaver
Tags: Anet Raine || Indirect: Quinn Varanin | Reina Daival

Adelle took a measured sip, cataloguing the shifting emotions as the woman spoke and asked her questions. Anet. Spoken far too easily to be anything other than a given name or a well-worn alias. But now came the trouble—her own name. Adelle was unwilling to give out her real name among Sith and their followers. And she still needed to keep the woman’s interest to see if she actually had the information Adelle wanted.

“For business, I go by Senth,” she said, naming the Aurebesh character. “For pleasure, you can call me by whatever gods you worship.”

She took another drink and ignored the voices in her head saying that was the stupidest thing she could have possibly said.

“The information I need is on a crimelord that once operated in the lower levels.” Adelle glanced around the bar, looking for who seemed too invested in her conversation. “Or rather his web of connections and associates. He himself was . . . dealt with.”

“As far as compensation . . .” She looked back at Anet, glancing at her outfit before looking back up at her face. The black fabric was tailored and well-maintained. “You don’t seem hard up for creds, so that hardly seems like a fair trade. I’m nothing if not a mercenary though so perhaps an exchange of services?”

“Quality of services rendered depending on the quality of information received, naturally.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Reina Daival //: Anet Raine //:
//: Adelle Bastiel //:
//: Attire //:

Level 1313, a place that Quinn would have never set foot in. It was known for its crime and murder, but it was lively. Perhaps that's why it never slept. Reina had invited her out, Quinn wondered why Mercy wouldn't have wanted to take her to see the sights of her new Empire. But that was a question she'd have to work up the courage to ask.

Mercy never planned; she only did what she wanted when she wanted to.

That seemed to also pertain to Quinn as well. She scoffed, closing her eyes in frustration. Even when things were good, she found a reason to be annoyed with the new Empress of the Core. But that's how it always was, at least this time she wasn't rejecting her.

Quinn did her best to stop thinking about the fire-haired woman, knowing she... Quinn stopped thinking about her. Reina had invited her out, and it had been some time since she had seen the former Jedi. Reina had been busy, probably something good for her, but having sworn the blade to Quinn, she wondered how far that extended. Maybe her understanding was different, but Quinn assumed Reina would be at her beck and call.

It didn't upset her, but Quinn had hoped it meant that she'd see the Siren more often than when she called her.

Her lips pursed. What was it with redheaded women and making Quinn wait?

Reina had a place in mind, and Quinn followed, her silken shawl draped over her shoulders. The level's lights illuminated the expensive choker and gold jewelry the Princess had chosen to wear. A dangerous choice, but the Echani begged for someone to try. None did, thankfully — though it would have been a nice test for her blade.

The door opened, and Quinn followed the other girl, who was talking about drinks and somewhere to sit. Before Quinn could answer, her attention was pulled to another. Frowning, Quinn's mood was instantly soured. Reina had invited her, but was more interested in seeing someone else. She hated how it cut deeper than it really should, Quinn quietly scolded herself as she followed, hands folding the shawl carefully into itself.

Heat resonated from the number of people in the club, dancing, drinking — everything was happening around her. A bombardment of emotions lingered on the edge of her defenses. She watched as bodies writhed together to the rhythm of the music. It was there that she wanted to be, forgetting everything that had happened recently, along with the emotions it had stirred.

She wanted to lose herself in the throngs of the heavy beat of the music pounding into her chest. Quinn was addressed, and her attention flickered to the woman who spoke. She was the one who had pulled Reina's attention.

Curious, she wasn't used to being asked her name. More often than not, people knew her, but she didn't know them.

"Quinn." She answered, her eyes returning to the dance floor as Reina and her friend continued to converse. Eventually, the woman left, and Quinn tilted her head. It was curious, but she wasn't going to waste her opportunity. Looking back towards Reina, she slipped into the booth, but instead of taking the seat beside the woman…

"Don't do that again," her voice soft, whining almost as she teased. Quinn pushed the booth's table slightly enough so that she could sit on Reina's lap, facing her. A finger trained gently along the Siren's cheek as she let the music linger around them.

"Who's your friend?"

As much as she wanted to drag Reina to the dancefloor, she stopped herself. It was obvious that this woman would return, and Reina wanted to spend time with her. Quinn may excuse herself if the conversation is too boring.

Remembering Reina's hand against her jaw quietly, Quinn let her hand trail against where she had previously massaged, "Did you hurt yourself?"

 

[Ghruna]

PARTY

Tatiana Sah Varin Mortifer

The air in the club continued to press against her skin, heavy with the scent of recycled oxygen and cheap chemicals. Ghruna shifted her weight, the movement causing the bar to groan under her hand. She remained aware of the rack of glassware inches above her horns.

She watched Varin through narrowed, orange eyes. He was speaking a lot today.

She listened as he welcomed the human woman, Tatiana, with a flourish of his glass. Then came the "bonus".

“Ghruna, you look absolutely wonderful today, I am happy you made it here.”

She was a creature of bone, muscle, and the red dust of the mountains. She was still far from full size and growing into her frame. If he had said 'pretty' it would have felt oily.

She was far from home and did not fully understand their culture. She longed to be with her kind, making a name for herself. At a maldrani feast, after a battle, an outsider would have struggled to distinguish between flirting and fighting.

The heat that rose to Ghruna's face had nothing to do with the stifling air of Club Cadaver. It was a sharp, prickly sensation that made her want to growl or break something.

On Malthyl, a male of her father's court would never dare such a remark unless he was prepared to be claimed. With her height and the fire of her lineage, she would have already had several mates trailing in her wake, won through displays of strength or chosen from the finest warriors of the northern continents.

It was pleasant to be noticed, even if the delivery was clumsy and public. She was lonely.

The cultural divide led to a deep misunderstanding. She took it as an awkward attempt by Varin to engender competition between the two females.

Her tail gave an agitated flick.

"You look good too, Varin. I am glad to see you."

Her gaze slid past him to Tatiana.

"A student of the galaxy?" she repeated. "Is that what your culture is?"

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Quinn Varanin
Indirect Tag: Adelle Bastiel Anet Raine
Location: Coruscant Level 1313 Club Cadaver
The Fit

"Well. y'know. I'm trying to make more of an effort to be "social."

That was her response to Anet's surprise. Reina didn't want to stay focused on every job she was doing. This was finally her time to live. To get out of her own head. Yet she was surprised when Anet left almost nearly as soon as Reina arrived, to go and talk to someone else. And like that, the small part of her that had slowly been growing smaller recently began again. Reina had done something wrong. That must have been why Anet had left. Reina always did something wrong. Always.

Yet her attention was snapped away from that thought by Quinn, as the Echani sat herself down in Reina's lap, the Ersansyr reaching out to wrap her arms around the Echani. As she held Quinn, Reina tilted her head in confusion. Don't do what again? The cogs in her mind twisted and turned, until Reina realised that Quinn hadn't been overly interested in anything Reina had said. Nor had she seemed too into meeting Anet. Was...Quinn jealous? No. Reina was the one who got jealous. Not Quinn. Quinn was too...well off for that. It made sense though...Reina shook her head for a moment, leaning forward to pepper Quinn with kisses.

"I...didn't mean anything by it. I just thought you'd be happy to see I'm making friends. We don't have to stay here."

Her confidence in being intimate and close to someone had grown, as the redhead gently kissed up Quinn's jaw, to make it easier for her to whisper in the Echani's ear. There wasn't much need for the whispering, considering the sound of the club but that didn't stop her.

"I'm out here, to be with you, Tárinya. Not her."

Then Reina leaned back against the booth, letting her gaze travel across the club for a moment, taking a moment to think to herself.

"Her name's Anet. I don't think...I ever got her last name. She's part of that Sith Covenant. She's also my ticket to getting jobs off them. Meant to be introducing me to some of the higher ups eventually."

There was also the fact that she was meant to be reporting to her Master about them. That little tidbit of information could wait until they were somewhere more private. Even if the club was bouncing, it only took one person to be listening in for the entire thing to blow.

She leaned into Quinn's touch as the Echani trailed her hand along her jaw. It was strange in a way to Reina. How one person's touch could make any pain seemingly fade away. She knew it was all in her head, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy the feeling.

"I didn't do it. It was from Brosi. I got smashed in the side of the head. Imps ganged up on me. It was ridiculous. Four of them against me and one of them against...Him. Darth Carnifex."

Her eyes darted along the room for a moment. There was something about saying that name that put the hairs on the back of her neck on end. It had been some form of initiation in her eyes. Though as much as Carnifex may have officially been her Master in the Dark Side, she still considered Quinn as someone who could teach her.

"You shoulda seen my face afterwards. At the big celebration. The side of my face was all bruised and my eye was bloodshot. I didn't want you to worry about me. I've survived worse, and that was before I had met you. Now I have even more of a reason to stick around."

A few bruises weren't anything to write home about. She had survived far worse. She had survived Serina. Survived having herself twisted into something else.

"...How was Brosi for you?"

Now was a better time than any to ask.​

 

[Anet Raine]

Direct: Adelle Bastiel
Tags: Reina Daival | Quinn Varanin
Wearing: This Fit | Sith Choker

"Senth," Anet repeated, tasting that name on her own tongue.

The way Senth offered it was odd - 'I go by' implied an alias, or maybe she was just trying on a name? The half-pantoran had been there before. Either way, she didn't pry. Not when she had every reason to smirk and withhold a snicker at what Senth followed her introduction with.

"The Gods?" She mused with a flash of delight in her icy eyes. "I am the God I worship..." Anet was kidding, but not really. Asking her if she was religious might result in some very complicated answers.

The acolyte leaned a little closer, so her voice could be a touch lower. "And I'm sure a tour of my temple could be arranged, but--"

She leaned back without another word on the matter, back to her elbow on the bar, though that excited smirk (smug, really) remained. It was almost too much fun, but she allowed Senth to continue with her elaboration.

So she was after a crimelord's echo? Some network of scum from the Coruscanti underworld? Senth may've stumbled upon the right woman after all. Astounding if it was incidental. She couldn't help but wonder if this was the will of the Force, that meddlesome companion of hers. Of course, Senth was also smart enough to know that Anet didn't lack in material things. Too bad, though, for a moment she hoped those wandering eyes were just that.

Anet ran her tongue left-to-right along the inside of her bottom lip, mouth slightly agape, eyes drifting over to where Quinn and Reina sat, then finally back to Senth in a flick.

"A favor for a favor," she considered it. "For someone I neither know personally nor by reputation, that is a lot of trust you're asking from me."

Then, with the flash of a grin, Anet had an idea. "Why don't you join my friends and me for the night, hm? To be clear, I might have the information you seek, but I need to know you better if I'm going to take you up on your little offer."

And just like that, she slid past Senth and sauntered back to her booth, just in time for her to spy what appeared to be Reina and the blonde getting a little friendly.