Bright Lights, Bigger City [Open Club Thread]

[Joza Perl]

The heat of [member="The Slave"]’s breath tickled her skin, giving rise to the beginnings of a shudder along the edge of her flesh. Joza did not stand to meet him, but rather hummed softly as a pair of lips drifted from chin to ear, appreciative of the gesture and the tingles it sent ghosting along her spine. Years ago she’d been seduced by a Sith priestess on Voss—in the ritual pool of a scared temple, no less. That same feeling wrought by Darth Ax’no lingered here between them here, at the corner of John Doe’s lips when they stretched into a toothy grin.

That was years ago, and she’d learned her lesson when playing with pretty things. When to take and when to admire.

“No,” Murmuring, her bright gaze flickered with a sense of amusement. One hand rose to cup the side of his face, thumb stroking over his cheek bone in short strokes, wholly unperturbed by their closeness. “You can show me here.” Her other hand ghosted up the side of his torso, feeling the curvature of his form from the hip up with a trace of her lithe fingertips. Her touch did not linger at his side, the hand at his cheek still brushing softly as her measured gaze leveled on the young man.

Then it flickered to the side, lips bending in a faint frown of realization as she eyed [member="Sal Katarn"] from the corner of her eye. He was upstairs now, gracefully chatting up a lady at the bar and her current dalliance. Force help this club, because it did not need any more murders.

X

[member="Enyo Typhos"] seemed a bit on edge, and understandably so. Her aggression was less graceful than Siobhan’s, but still potent with the way she sized Joza up like an opponent on the battlefield.

Thankfully she accepted the drink, brightening Joza’s showy demeanor just a bit more. “I apologize for staring, that was rude of me.” A sip of the drink followed along with a pleasant sigh as the burn trickled down the back of her throat. The Zeltron took a moment to consider Enyo’s tone, concluding that the other woman was not particularly fond of her striking resemblance to the Firemane CEO. Treading carefully, she hummed for a moment in thought before speaking. “We’re business partners. Firemane has played a big part in some of Heartbeat’s projects.” Indeed, a good portion of the funding for her humanitarian projects had come from Siobhan’s company.

Joza had a vague idea of what being one of Sio’s ‘girls’ meant—a serving girl? Someone she’d taken in? A member of her family? Best not to answer that directly, though she wouldn’t deny that they enjoyed a good romp in the sheets now and then. “Are you two related, perchance?” It would make sense if there were a few rogue Kerrigans about as estranged family members.

X

“Ooooh, right. Right.” Bianca gave [member="Mishel Ren"] and [member="Connor Harrison"] a little suggestive wink as though she did not fully believe her, though perhaps it was just teasing. Things happened on Zeltros that probably wouldn’t on any other world, given the pheromones and general acceptance of freer love. Even if you stepped on the party planet without the intention of getting laid, you’d be hard pressed to ignore the atmosphere.

“Nobody right now, though that could change.” Bianca’s casual answer was belied by her wide grin as she idly stirred the little straw in her colorful drink. She could point out those she’d been with if that was his real question, though the strobing lights might make that a bit difficult. “I’m a waitress here. I’m here with my friends.” She pointed over to the group of giggling, tipsy Zeltron women she’d emerged from. “I only work part time, so we sometimes come here to enjoy ourselves when we have the night off.”

She downed a good quarter of her drink, leaning a bit more forward with her elbows on the table, peeks of cleavage exposed to the pair. “What brings the two of you to Blush?”

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"I see," Enyo responded laconically. She sippped her drink, but kept her eyes on the Zeltron Force Master. The liquor trickled down her throat...a throat she no longer used for breathing. Much like Vader, she had an iron lung and her breathing sounded the same. On the bright side, she was not stuck in a theatrical life support armour with a melodramatic mask.


"I imagine she'd get murderous if she saw the company you entertain," she referred to the First Order minions who were giving Heartbeat a lot of money. "Me, I don't care. She cares too much about pointless causes. Probably to stroke her titanic ego," she remarked caustically. Mechanical fingers curled around the glass. One day, Siobhan's obsessions would be her undoing, this Enyo was certain. She'd go out in an overdramatic blaze of glory. The clone was not sure she liked this scenario. Then she dropped the bomb shell. "I'm Enyo Typhos. Her clone."

 

[Kenrath]

Viktor chuckled when [member="Sal Katarn"] moved his hand to hover over his blaster. Glancing quickly up a [member="Joza Perl"] before looking back at the man Viktor shook his head.

"Talk about a hound with a bone. If you needed to get laid that bad all you had to do is say so. Beside it looks like dirty and unrefined may be Miss Irajah's thing."

Viktor shook his head giving Irajah a playful wink still laughing.

"If it doesn't work out bored socialites like a taste of danger. I know I half dozen back home that would love somebody to take that approach with them."

Viktor finished his drink setting the glass down on the table.

"Look last guy that started a ruckus she had tossed out and I am not nearly done drinking to have to find another place to kick back if she tosses me out too."

Viktor dropped a card on the bar.

"You ever decide the tired, dirty, manner less brute approach isn't working for you let me know."

Viktor glanced briefly at Joza before wandering off to find other means of entertainment.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

It had been at least mildly amusing. He was trying to hard, but it was a bar, so what did she expect?

And then it became an utter train wreck.

"Did.... did he really just.... try to..... what's it called..... 'neg' me?"

The bartender nodded sympathetically. Irajah just blinked.

"Does that ever..... actually WORK for anyone?"

He shook his head. Leaning under the bar, he picked up a trash can, offering it on the inside edge of the counter top. With a bemused grin, Irajah leaned over, flicking the card into the bin with her thumb and middle finger before offering the bartender a salute and a credit chit as a tip.

"I don't know what you need to talk to me about, but whatever it is, can't be as bad as that last salvo. Pretty sure I just dodged a bullet on that one."

Sliding off of the barstool, the petite brunette threaded through the crowd toward where he'd gestured, not far from [member="Joza Perl"] and [member="The Slave"]. She paused at the entrance to an alcove, leaning back against the corner and turning serious hazel eyes on [member="Sal Katarn"].

"So as long as that blaster stays in the holster, you have my attention. What can I do for you?"

 

[Sal Katarn]

Before they left, Sal ordered a whiskey, which he didn't drink.

They waded back through the mass of bodies, eventually reaching the alcove. What could she do for him? Sal gave her the once over. Hazel eyes, a little on the short side, and somewhere north of her twenties. Not gonna be queen of Hapes anytime soon, but passable.

Katarn grunted noncommittally, then flicked his gaze in the direction of [member="The Slave"] and back to [member="Irajah Ven"].

"Guy chatting up the club owner is a wanted cultist."

Sal unceremoniously handed the whiskey to her.

"Get him to drink it."

Bad plan, maybe, but the Guild had gave him several warnings on using 'alternative methods' before going for the gun. He was trying to be responsible, or whatever.

One sip would knock the guy out cold. Question was, would she do it, and would he bite?

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

For the second time in the last minute, Irajah just slowly blinked. Mentally, she added Zeltros to the list of the place the crazies congregated.

"What? Are you insane?"

"No."

She peered up into his face, and if there wasn't a little shift in his eyes that said 'well, actually, maybe' she was an ewok's uncle.

Crossing her arms over her chest she frowned at him. Of all the places this conversation might have went, this hadn't been any of the ones she had anticipated. While he hadn't said what was in the drink, it wasn't a stretch to figure it out. Bounty Hunter plus clandestine alcohol equaled nap time. He hadn't yet withdrawn the drink, just waiting expectantly.

"First off," she said, raising a finger. "Why in the karking maw would I get involved? And second......"

She paused, curious despite herself.

"What kind of cultist?"

[member="Sal Katarn"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

"The murderin' kind."

Katarn's other hand reached under his poncho.

"If you don't," He produced an innocuous looking hollow rod of a light colored wood. It might've been a flute, except it had no holes save those on the ends.

The drifter looked at her, shrugged.

"I'm just gonna shoot him."

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor glanced up to [member="Mishel Ren"] and smiled, dismissing the notion with a wave of the hand.

He then looked to Bianca with a grin and toyed with his glass as the lights reflecting off it over his hand.

"I'm here to forget for a while. To make sense of things. You know?"

He ran a hand over his jaw.

"I'd have thought being a waitress here you get a lot of attention, right? If I worked here and had time off I'd be anywhere else BUT work. You're dedicated - you make sure your boss knows it." That was [member="Joza Perl"] in charge, right? He leaned in a little closer. "So what do you do when you're not working?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The bass of the club music reverberated through the upper floors of Blush, a subtle vibration felt in the deepest parts of their chests. Contrasted by the beating of the heart, each of them took a moment to watch each other; a single instance to take a break from the constant coquettish advances they’d given each other. Well, him mostly.

John Doe offered her a slight pout of a face before cracking a grin. He leaned back down to her ear, making sure she could hear him. Hot breath washed over her skin once more, his cheek resting against hers as he spoke.

“As you wish.”, he said in what could only be described as a sultry tone.

Skin on skin, he moved slowly from her before his hips began to sway. The fabric of his shirt swayed with his movements, giving a slow and assumed form to his body; one obviously tight and well practiced. He was a man entirely of muscle, a work hardened slave who had spent years in various pits of unknown messes; yet he moved with the subtlety of any of the Zeltron women on the stages.

But, he seemed to be trying to do more than simply draw her eyes.

With a sweep of his hand, he brought straggling hairs back into place before mounting her lap, straddling her on the couch. The beat controlled his movements, a slow sway of his hips, shoulders, and head all met in a balanced and smooth motion. Fingers swept through the side of her hair, almost pulling her head back before his head moved to her neck. His teeth dragged across the sensitive skin along her neck before ending in a gentle kiss on her shoulder; his other hand following the shape of her side before resting on her hip.

The song slowly transitioned into something else as he worked his dance, the soft scent of lavender wafting off him at the proximity they were at. Eventually, he offered her another whisper in her ear, still on her lap;

“Enjoying it so far?”, he said with a calm, yet arched tone.

The obviously distracted Slave never gave a glance to the prying eyes of [member="Sal Katarn"] and [member="Irajah Ven"], their distant casing being little more than a vague background action that faded with the rest of them.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

“Mmm,” Pink fingers wound themselves in [member="The Slave"]’s hair, taking their time in pushing a few stray strands back from his face. He was trained in the art of dance, no doubt about that. The subtle undulation of muscle flowed smooth enough to coax an appreciative murmur from her, green eyes flickering across his pleasing form in an almost clinical manner.

It made sense that a slave could move like this, especially given his youth. Despite the bruises, she imagined that the young man found his use in more than just the fighting pits. Nasty business, slavery. “Bring your hips closer.” Her voice drifted in slow, steady hum. On hand reached to bring his hips forward, closer to her own, and the other ghosted up his spine. “Arch your back a bit more.” It was not the most comfortable of positions, but added to the overall ambiance of the dance.

X

Joza couldn’t help but notice how rigid the cyborg appeared, her posture speaking of distrust with flecks of curiosity. She kept in mind that [member="Enyo Typhos"] would not have asked to meet with her without at least letting those curiosities trickle into her mind. That, or she was here to send a message or even kill her.

“I wouldn’t blame her,” Musing into the glass, the Zeltron took a healthy sip of drink before placing it down near her lap, balancing the cup on her knee. “I don’t particularly mind taking their money so long as they behave themselves.” Yes, there were a few trained eyes watching the ones she’d managed to recognize. Yes, she was nervous with [member="Alkor Centaris"] out and about.

Then the bomb dropped.

“Oh,” Surprise reflected plainly in her eyes, and she spoke after taking a second or two to regain composure. “You’re her clone. Well, ah, it’s nice to meet you Enyo. I’m Joza Perl.” A name for a name, right? She wasn’t sure if the name would mean anything to Enyo. A moment of silence fell between the two as Joza idly swirled her drink. “I take it you two are not on the best of terms?” She’d decided to venture on her newfound hunch given the way she referred to Sio earlier. Maybe if Joza had grown up with siblings, she’d understand a little better.

X

Bianca nodded slowly at [member="Connor Harrison"]’s response. It was more common than you’d think. “A lot of people come to Zeltros as an escape.” She didn’t need to explain why, of course—anyone who knew of Zeltros knew that it was the party capital of the galaxy, its people more willing to let loose and look past whatever identity you held off world. So long as the good times kept going.

“I meannnn….” She grinned again, this time a little more far-off in thought as a lock of violet hair wrapped itself around a pink finger. “We’re starting the night here and hitting up a few more clubs closer to the central district. Some of them are like, really hard to get into. Super exclusive stuff, but we’ve got our ways…” She sent a glance back over to her girls doing shots.

“When I’m not working?” Bianca held two jobs, one as a waitress here and one working at a restaurant during the daylight hours. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for residents of Indigo District to work at more than one establishment. “I come to places like this. Dance, hang out with the girls and stuff…sometimes shopping.” She shrugged. “What about you, when you’re not forgetting things on Zeltros?”

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"I was designed to kill her," Enyo responded bluntly. 'Designed', like manufactured on an assembly line in a factory. A very exclusive one, but nonetheless. No mother, no family of any sort except 'clone sisters' she was supposed to look out for, a bunch of manipulative HRDs and their lies.


She'd grown up in her shadow ever since the moment she'd climbed out of the bacta tank and drawn breath in sterilised air in an equally sterile white lab. "Tear her down from her pedestal and turn everything she loves to ash. It was my only purpose from the moment I breathed air," she added in a tone that might have come across as being conversational if it had not been so cold. "There was also something about the greater good," hollow laughter escaped her throat.


There was a pause before words left her lips once more. "You know her intimately, do you not? What...is Siobhan like?" These words were spoken in a genuinely curious tone. Being an empath, Joza would probably detect the aforementioned flecks of curiosity growing in Enyo's aura.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave took her commands to heart like that of any master he had, a nearly instant reaction to her words. His hips grinded closer to hers, his back arched as their chests pressed together; nothing but imagination separating them. As she likely expected, he was used in far more ways than fighting pits and labor camps in the long years he had spent in slavery; but those memories were darkness now. Something he refused to tread on.

His motions continued to follow the tempo, but there was something more than physical movement going on; something he himself couldn’t sense. Joza would find it hard to avoid, but the aura she felt dripping off him in thick recourse seemed to amplify what he was doing. While his hand was on the back of her hair, his lips only inches from hers, the essence he held moved with little hesitance.

In the same motion, it ran its translucent fingers across her thigh, her hip, and her cheek. It held a deep blackness to it, something unnerving; yet it kept with the actions of a sultry maiden. What it within itself was something broken, and what it gave was a deep pressure that ran along her skin. For an instance, it even seemed to press its imaginary hand against the sides of her neck, forcing a momentary lightheadedness that didn’t stay.

The more it wandered, the more she could see of it. Its anger, its pain, and its ever pulling passion. Its slowly growing presence.

It seemed to be leaking past them, rolling through the club in waves; something heavier than the fog machines, but far more menacing than any cloud that might be given off. Whatever it was, it was a mystery at the very least; offering a mixture of flirtatious actions and a fear mongering passiveness.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza reclined back as [member="The Slave"] continued to writhe in her lap, inorganic hand finding its way to his hip where she held him in place, though not tightly enough to hinder his dance. It wasn’t exactly rare for her to be in this position—especially lately—given her penchant for dance in its many forms. Heartbeat initially began as a dance studio which smoothly transitioned into the entertainment industry and…a few other venues that didn’t exactly parallel the Zeltron lifestyle.

The pressure at her neck did not go unnoticed, the light in her eyes sharpening. “I see where you get those bruises,” Her murmur was gruff, more rugged. “Cheeky bastard.” A low chuckle vibrated from deep within her throat.

Her flesh arm had been splayed against the top of the couch, but now it came to his face as lithe pink fingers caressed the peak of his cheekbone. Nails followed, breaking beneath the surface of his skin just enough to leave a little trail of crimson in their wake as they raked slowly down to his collar.

x

The differences between [member="Enyo Typhos"] and the…original just kept on coming.

Enyo’s question, however unexpected, was meant with thoughtful sincerity as Joza took a few moments to choose her words. “She cares very deeply for those close to her. She reminds me of a…mother Krayt dragon.” A mild smirk turned the corners of her lips up at that thought. Protective was the word that came to mind. “Arrogant, and thinks a bit highly of herself. But she’s very rooted in her morals and knows what she’s doing. And an excellent lover, of course.” Placing her drink down. Joza crossed one pink leg over the other at the knee. “At least, from my perspective. Take it with a grain of salt.”

A pause before she continued, but her tone was friendly and less accusatory. “Do you have any personal grievances against her?” There was a difference between being designed to kill and wanting to kill, and her interests was piqued in regards to which one Enyo truly embodied.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave slowed his movements, bringing them lower and closer to her as both his hands moved to cradle her head. Her nails called forth blood from his skin, but with it a soft and sly grin that threatened her for more. His eyes, his face, everything from his body posture to his expression watched her with a ubiquitous gaze.

His words were short, a hotty tone nearly whispered to her;

“I’d love to see you create a few more.”

And then he pulled her close. He closed his eyes as he fell to his lust, bringing his lips to hers; a pale meeting of rose and silver that left nothing but heat and enjoyment between them. He held it, still cradling her head before slowly pulling back, looking over her face. For once, he felt a calmness in himself, perhaps because he satisfied his addiction. Perhaps because she made him feel calm.

The ecstacy held, a careful pause before he slowly unmounted her and rested a hand on her inner thigh, leaning his head back as he relaxed. He offered little more than a slight chuckle as he enjoyed himself in those careless moments; waiting for her to respond.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"A mother Krayt dragon," Enyo muttered. She did not seem happy with this elaboration. "She has everything. A family, corporate empire, adoring followers who follow her unto death no matter how many perish to extend her limits of glory and satisfy her ambition." One could see the spark of jealousy inside her dark aura. "She created me as a disposable host to house her essence so that she could live forever. Or so I was led to believe."


Her tone implied that she had cause to doubt this now, but she still resented her template. She took another sip from her glass and put it back down. Raising her cybernetic hand once more, she flexed her metallic fingers. They were silver coloured and longer than that of a typical human. No attempt had been made to design her cybernetics so that she could blend in. Her perfectly machined, slightly alien looking legs made her a good deal taller than Siobhan. The question was, who had 'designed' the clone?


"You've lain with her." This was a very old-fashioned way of saying 'you two had sex'. She planted these cold fingers upon Joza's cheek. If Enyo was trying to be gentle, she was doing a poor job though. It was doubtful that she'd ever been taught how to.

 

[Joza Perl]

She didn’t imagine he’d cry out or protest against her dragging nails, rather he seemed the type to revel in pain and the subtle spike of adrenaline it wrought. “I bet you would.” She sounded a little amused there, tone gentle and nonabrasive almost as if she were getting sleepy.

Anything but, given the situation. But her mind was being pulled elsewhere, out to the mechanical woman who wanted to meet her and the scruffy bounty hunter who’d already ruined one night. Her eyes didn’t search for Enyo or [member="Sal Katarn"] though, preferring to keep [member="The Slave"] in her sights. And why not? Zeltrons appreciated aesthetic beauty, and he was attractive. Still, she couldn’t afford to fully indulge herself.

Her fingers rose through his hair, threading between silver strands as she allowed herself that small bit of indulgence. And just like that, they were both sated for the time being. Joza eyed the hand at her thigh in amusement but said nothing, not minding the touch in the slightest. It took quite a bit to sexually intimidate a Zeltron, regardless if he had a similar motive or not. “You wouldn’t be out of place in a brothel, no.” Hand twined in ashy strands before she crooked a single pink finger, running the back down the side of his face and ghosting along the mark she had left. Emerald gaze glanced down between them for a moment.

“You gonna do anything with that hand?”

x

A chill passed through Joza at the cool touch of Enyo’s metallic fingers against her skin, though she did her best to curb it visually. It wasn’t as if she was unfamiliar with cybernetics—her own arm was designed to blend in, though—but unaccustomed to a more human touch lacking warmth. At this point she should have pulled back, recoiled away from the woman’s touch given the context. There wasn’t any aggression behind it, at least from what she could sense.

Green eyes locked with dark brown as she made an attempt to read what was going on in the cyborg’s mind, gaze reflecting a heightened curiosity. While she was certain cautious, the Zeltron was not afraid. Perhaps she should have been?

“I have.” [member="Enyo Typhos"] wasn’t all ice and anger, or so it seemed. Doubt lingered in her words earlier about Siobhan, leading Joza to believe that she’d thought long and hard about her purpose. One didn’t focus on a certain subject without turning it over and over in their mind, finding new angles, however subtle, each time. Enyo’s situation, regardless of the reality, was complicated.

“I understand why you’re upset with her. Frankly, I’d be pissed too if I found out that I only existed for the benefit of someone else.” An edge of mirthless humor found its way into her tone as her organic hand drifted upwards, flesh sliding atop Enyo’s cybernetic. “Who told you how you came to be?”

 

[Sal Katarn]

Katarn glanced over at the target and found the situation had... developed. Hm. Turned out he wouldn't have to provide the distraction after all.

"Move," Sal grunted to Irajah, leaving the whiskey glass on a nearby stand, then stepping past her. Supposed that might piss her off, but given as he hadn't seen any weapons on the gal he wasn't too concerned. Besides, she didn't seem the sort to dry gulch him in the back like that.

He fit something small into one end of the hollow rod and held it to his lips.

Fffffffft.

A dart laden with a fast acting paralytic zipped through the air with a wicked little hum, on a beeline for [member="The Slave"]'s exposed neck.

[member="The Slave"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"It is of no consequence. They are mine to kill. I shall kill anyone who tries to control me," Enyo said bluntly. There was a predatory gleam in those dead, cold eyes. On a certain level, Enyo really enjoyed violence and revelled in it. The Dark Side slithered and seethed around her like a serpent. However, she seemed surprised when Joza's flesh and blood suddenly drifted upwards atop her cybernetic hand.


Perhaps she'd expected the Zeltron to pull away, recoil from her touch or some variation thereof. Since none of this occured, she was at a loss of how to respond. The clone did not like the feeling of uncertainty. It made her feel vulnerable and out of control. "You have been nice to me. I do not wish to hurt you."

 

[Samka Derith]

Leading the stranger onto the dance floor, Samka could feel the power in the glove she held. She'd already suspected he was... different but this confirmed it. He wasn't shabby from work or anything of the sort because he wasn't here to unwind like the others, it was written all over his face. The way it had changed from an almost goofy, friendly grin to something impassive. Even the way he danced, he didn't move like the wretches around them, lustful hands caressing each other's bodies. It was more akin to the way she herself danced. Something far more refined.

She took a moment to register the music and repressed a sigh. This wasn't the first time she'd been caught in such a scenario. The music had turned awkwardly romantic when she had attempted to teach [member="Mishel Ren"] how to dance at the ball. Was she cursed in such a way? To have two of her favourite things: music and dance, taunt her at every opportunity.

She almost recoiled from the way he touched her back. Until she noticed that the only one looking more uncomfortable than she felt was the man himself. Samka smirked, her demeanour changing as she released that in some way or another, she held the power here. She placed her hand on his chest and moved in slightly closer, a knowing smirk on her face as she knew exactly what she was doing. "Scary people indeed," her brown eyes flashed with excitement, for this evening hidden was the scarlet corruption of the Dark. "But you don't need to worry about me," she leaned forwards to his ear, "I'm very capable, you know." She pulled back and flashed him an innocent grin. "But yes, I do have friends here actually. I'll be making my way over to them in just a moment. But first," her grip on the man tightened, "there's something... familiar about you. Are you sure we haven't met?"

[member="Joza Perl"] - [member="Connor Harrison"] - [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Their movements matched, if only in a relative way. Watchful eyes pried into the most elegant couple on the floor, and emotions raged. Jealousy, contempt, competition, desire- everything swam about like a needless cesspool that threatened to drown the two if they but let themselves sink into it. Alkor doubted the woman felt the things he did, even as her body moved in synch with his own.

She was more skilled than an average club-goer, to be sure. Her body appeared deceptively frailer than it actually was. He had been this close, no, closer- with many, many of his victims.

The human body was a fragile thing, though. Even when honed to pinnacle shape, it had failings and shortcomings that had forced adaptation. Cloth, leather, and eventually metal armors. This woman wore none of those, at face value. Her hand in his would have fallen quick victim to the pressure of the weapon that delicately held it.

Her throat, exposed, would have been so easy-

Then, she came closer. His mental conditioning, thinking of the ways to end her life, all of it halted. In that instant, she wasn't just a corpse, a person waiting to die. She broke though his guarded, bland defence and forced his attention.

His eyes dropped to hers, stern, harsh. The eyes of a man awash in a sea of murder. It was all he could do to let out a soft sigh and reign in the killing intent.

His eyes closed when she drew closer, and he replied mirthlessly. "I'm certain you are," he answered when she asserted her capability. "I meant no offense, of course."

A temptress, interested in sultry acts and his coin? Or something else. Alkor wondered as her lips moved near his ear. No, it couldn't have been anything so simple. Had she any interest in fleeting, sensual acts then she would have been like the rest of this rabble. Their bodies would have remained close from the start.

No, her demeanor had changed.

He had never felt this woman before. He was sure of that. No, if there was familiarity, he would have seen- his eyes snapped open when she asked.

Are you sure we haven't met?

Had they? His mind flashed across the distance between them and his eyes and consciousness scoured her, seeking something so guarded only someone with the talent to perceive it might.

It was bright, but pulsated with a bloody light. The darkness. She could hide it, and so very well- but what seeped through a Shatterpoint was infinitely telling.

She was just like him.

"No," he answered with a wry smile on his face. "No, we haven't."

Because I would have killed you. I should kill you, he thought. Surface thoughts. A telepath would have heard them. He hoped she would. But I won't.

"You're a beautiful woman," he said as the music shifted, and he allowed the dance to linger for as long as [member="Samka Derith"] willed it to last. "And perhaps, in another life. But I'm afraid that my interests here are purely professional."

[member="Joza Perl"]​