Crystal Catch | CIS Dominion of Tarsunt [Y-42]

[Kintel Ee’everwest]

TARSUNT
DROID FIGHTING ARENA
INTERACTING WITH: [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"]​

POST: Seven​

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Now she was flirting, and well, using language that Kintel would have been severely punished for using. Even now if he used the term she had in describing herself the media would have a frenzy. A man of his position and standing could ill afford to make a misstep. Kintel was one misunderstanding or one false accusation away from having everything his family had groomed him for being taken away from him. If he it were true, if he was that type of man, then he would deserve whatever wreckage it brought with it.

Still, Kintel could not help but laugh. She certainly was outgoing and as fiery as her hair color seemed to insinuate.

"I have also been referred to a wealthy prick with a stick up his butt," he rolled with where this whole thing was going. "One thing is for sure Maggie-Rae, if we were seen together the stories of our nefarious debauchery would be intergalactic by tomorrow."

Kintel winked as he took the hand which had been raised to motion him ahead. He slid it into the crook of his arm.

"Well you see... I may have changed your bet so that you would be indebted to me," he said as they wandered off to the pits.

It was a messy place to be, technicians working on the mangled bots, oil and other liquids sputtering all over the place. Neither of them were dressed for it, but this would be fun anyway.

A massive guard stopped them and Kintel just grinned. The two shook hands for a moment, and get escorted to a private box from which they could see every fight up close and personal.

"Tell me this is better than the stands."

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[Maggie-Rae Americus]

Objective 1: Sneak out and gamble
Post: 5
Making friends with: [member="Kintel Ee’everwest"]

“That sounds... uncomfortable,” laughed Maggie-Rae. For a Nabooian Noble, Kintel sure didn’t act like it. The more time she spent with him, the more she wondered about him. Mags always thought those with a charmed life had no problems or worries. Naive yes, but that was how she felt. The man before her seemed vaguely troubled underneath his practiced veneer.

“And this is a bad thing?” She most willingly let the man take her hand and tuck it within the warm folds of his sweater. So soft and safe.

As they walked down to the pits, even through the strewn droid parts, mud and acrid smell, the Mandalorian maneuvered,steady in her heels as though she’d traversed the path many, many times before. Sure she felt the warm flow of alcohol through her veins, but Kintel was fun and she wasn’t that drunk. Not yet.

Now as to this debt...

“The pits are mighty fine, Mr. Kintel. Mighty fine indeed. But indebted? Does that mean you own me?”

There were lots of things that Maggie-Rae’s statement could mean. Obviously she wasn’t a common dancer or companion, but would her statement make him think that she was really for sale? She saw him pondering this question as they settled into the well-appointed VIP box. A girl could get used to this.

“Even if just one night?”

In truth no one owned the redhead - not her daddy with whom she was estranged. Not even Uncle Jo. Mags’s guiding principles came down to three things. Me, myself and I. Still, it was fun to think she might be Mr. Kintel’s for this singular evening. "The view from here is spectacular," she added not wanting to seem ungrateful.

 

[Kintel Ee’everwest]

TARSUNT
DROID FIGHTING ARENA
INTERACTING WITH: [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"]​

POST: Eight​

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"Only if it were untrue," he said with a rather suggestive wink. "Is it right for people to be accused of something they have not experienced? If I am going to be accused of all kinds of debauchery then at least some of it should be true."

Maggie-Rae could read into what he said any way she wanted to. To be fair, he was enjoying the flirting, and Maggie seemed to have some kind of retort or quip for anything he said. Her company was easy and fun. There was no harm in enjoying what he could, or what she would let him.

His eyes widened when she mentioned the idea of owning her for a night. Kintel could easily say no woman in the circles he was used to ever referred to themselves as an escort, even in jest. The comment made him gulp and regain his composure.

"I would not say owned... But I did save you from losing your shirt tonight. That should earn me something, shouldn't it?"

What was he supposed to say in reply to the idea? It was clear that he did not know what to do with a woman like Maggie-Rae, well that was not entirely true. She was just not the type of woman that he was usually seen with, and in all honesty, it was refreshing.

A smile crept onto his face when the view was complimented. Kintel had hoped she was going to like it. It was private, close to the action, and well suited for them to get to know each other better.

"What do you drink? I can have something sent down."

Now he was just showing off.

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[Maggie-Rae Americus]

“You did make me a small pile of credits tonight. What are you thinkin’ of?”

Mags didn’t know how Mandalorians were viewed by Nabooians or by a man with the type of noble pedigree that Kintel Ee'everwest had, but she might as well come out with it.

“Tihaar.” That ought to give it away if the well-groomed gentleman was as well traveled as she assumed. Furthermore she enjoyed the slightly surprised and wholly amused expression that graced the handsome, chiseled face every time she spoke.

“Mr. Kintel, you make me feel awfully special,” Maggie hummed. Sure she was overly flirtatious and a little bit contrived, but the redhead was quite serious. No one had equally charmed or fascinated her in awhile. Not since Ting.

“But I have to warn you. I didn’t meet my last boyfriend through some dating site on the holonet.” There was no way she couldn’t make this weird, so the redhead tried to think of her next words as a test to Kintel’s bad-boyness. Could he really handle Maggie’s wild side? Did she want him to?

Did it really even matter if tonight they were just having fun?

With a dramatic curl of her lips upward, she leaned in, almost tickling his ear with her candy-red lips and said, “I tried to kill him.” The demure - if overly tight - outfit may have painted her as a lady, her words revealed a dangerous side. Yet in this kind of establishment, was Mr. Kintel who he even said he was? Part of her had the urge to suddenly race back to the camp and look him up in the tabloids, but she was as patient as a cat stalking a mouse.

[member="Kintel Ee’everwest"]