Private Detour through Demonsgate [Rann]

[Imka Larue]

"So you're a thief and a smooth talker," she was smirking, "what a resume. But if that's the case," taking his cue of finishing his glass, Imka cleaned out her own and stepped closer, holding her own out for a refill as well, "I'm glad to be of service in helping you not drink it alone."

It was pretty damn good wine. Too good to drink alone in her book.

"Anything else I should know? Are you also an assassin? Should I be ...concerned?"

 

[Rann Thress]

Rann raised his glass to take another drink, but stopped before he almost choked, laughing at her remark.

“Yeah that’s me.” He laughed again, “Greatest hunter in the Sector, for sure. And you’re my target.” He raised his robotic hand and made a blaster with his fingers, “Pow.” He mimicked firing the blaster.

“Gotta hand it to me. The commitment to this hunt.” He chuckled again and took another drink.

“Ahh. No. No I’m not an assassin. Not a super spy. I’m… well, I’m just me. Kind of a member of the Knights Obisidan for the CIS. But uh. I dunno. I’m just here.” He lifted the bottle and reached forward to fill her glass.

“What about you? You help people all the time or do you have some sneaky dangerous secrets?” He took the opportunity to take a step closer to her, smirking at her.

 

[Imka Larue]

She laughed. A full laugh that, luckily, did not spill any wine for the lack thereof in her glass. He was funny, in a sort of cute, dorky, awkward way. It was charming in its own right, beyond all the other things that she could find charming about him.

But, not an assassin. Well that was a relief, and she made a face that said as much. Whew, dodged a bullet there. Or did she? "Knights Obsidian?" a curious tilt to her head, "I have no idea what that is but it sounds very serious. Prestigious, even."

He was filling her glass and even a little closer. Imka did not seem to mind either of these things. Her dark eyes looked up at him and his question, a cool, guilty smile pulling at her lips, "I am a workaholic, it's true. Sometimes when I'm fueling up at HQ or outposts I swipe extra sweets to take back on the ship with me. My dirty rotten secret is my stash of junk food in my kitchenette," a nod, a frowning facial shrug, "or at least it was until about four hours ago when my ship landed in a pool of magma and melted."

She digressed. Now was not the time to think about all the paperwork she was going to have to file for that particular mishap. Or the wardrobe she was going to have to replace. "But on the rare occasion that I'm not working, sometimes I like to have drinks with mysterious mask-wearing men who save my life." Her eyes noted the leather glove on his other hand and her mind made the connection without it even needing to ask. In her field and line of work, artificial limbs were a dime a dozen. Didn't make them any less intriguing or personal - she'd learned not to ask a long time ago.

 

[Rann Thress]

There was a slight nod from Rann when she spoke of how the name, ‘Knight’s Obsidian’, conjured an image of seriousness and prestige. It was a very fanciful name, for sure. He didn’t elaborate further, however. His exact relations with the Order were dubious at best, and she’d be better off not knowing why.

He struggled to not smile at the absurdity of her saying her stash of junk food had literally melted.
“I’m sorry. That is terrible.” He continued to try to force himself to not smile.
The ridiculousness of the statement, as well as it being true was kind of funny in a weird way, but he tried to move on.

“Well it’s a good thing you like drinking with mask-wearing men because I happen to know a guy.” He said with a wink and a smile, taking another drink from his glass. “And I’d be happy to save you again and again for almost no reward.” He silently thanked the confidence the wine was starting to give him.

 

[Imka Larue]

Imka didn't need wine for confidence and she certainly couldn't tell that he did. On the outside he appeared calm, cool, and collected, even if he didn't feel it. Even if sometimes what he said and did wasn't quite as calm, cool, and collected as he made himself to be. Either way, it certainly put her off her guard. She normally wouldn't have opted for the second glass of wine while she was technically still on the clock.

Still had charges to ensure the safety of.

Couldn't do anything more until backup arrived, she told herself. Might as well take a little break.

"Yeah?" sweet, smooth talking words were so cheesy. So corny. She loved it. "Almost no reward?"

Was he inching closer or was she?

 

[Rann Thress]

“Almost.” He repeated, setting the glass down and stepping closer, closing the gap between themDespite his cavalier attitude, his heart continued to beat and his brain continued to scream at him. Every fiber of his being was telling him he was misreading the situation, but he wanted to take that risk.

As he stepped forward, he raised his organic hand to her side and, if she would allow him, gently pulled her against him.

“If this was the reward.” He leaned forward to plant a kiss on her lips.

 

[Imka Larue]

She had no trouble holding his gaze or holding the curve of her smile as the man inched closer. At some point Imka had to wonder if her father was turning in his grave when she got herself into situations like this. But if nothing else, her youth spent within the tutelage of the Moross Crusade Priests had shown her that the galaxy was an ever shifting, ever evolving place. If you didn't take advantage of the good things when they presented themselves, passing up opportunities became a way of life.

Enough bad things had happened to her in her short number of years for her to know that she couldn't afford to do that.

Imka had a passion for life that included helping others and drinking in the positivity. She smiled into the kiss and the warmth of his proximity, drawing her own free hand upwards to gently take his chin. Imka kissed him back and then slowly leaned into him and kissed him some more, taking hold of his beard with her fingers to draw him in.

 

[Rann Thress]

The circumstances of this interaction weren’t exactly ideal, but Rann couldn’t care less. He was committed to the moment, smiling down at her as she drew him in and wrapping his arms around Her to pull her closer, holding her tightly as she returned his kiss, and then some.

Their meeting may have been happenstance, and this moment born out of a need of stress relief and relaxation, but that only made it sweeter, the uncertain nature of it all. Rann enjoyed the time he had and wasn’t worried about whatever come after.

Right now, he had Imka, and she had him. And right now That was enough as Rann broke away and called to the lights in the room.

“Dim.” He ordered, and the lights darkened as he leaned back in and planted another kiss on her lips.

 

[Imka Larue]

Wine glass still half full found its way back to the table to be saved for later while she savored a different kind of sweet. Imka grinned as he gave the command to dim the lights and willingly met him half way when he dipped back into the kiss. Something about the smell of charred plastene and leather that really gave you a clear idea of just how close they came to roasting alive. Wrapping her arms up around his shoulders and neck as she impressed upon him this revelation and how they should celebrate their continued life with vigor.

Couldn't be sure who was directing who - seemed to be a joint effort - but between the two of them they'd found their way across the small chamber to his bed and she was pulling him down with her. There were roving hands and fingers curling through hair and hot breath spilling across skin. She felt the cool air hit the exposed skin of her sternum in tandem with the zip of her uniform bodysuit; leaned into the pinch of his teeth at her nape and then -

BLAAAAAAM

- nearly leaped out of her skin at the sudden blaring of the proximity alarm.

"GODS-" Imka gasped, heart hammering in her chest as she turned a wide gaze upwards at the spin of red warning lights, "what the - what the feth does that mean?"

 

[Rann Thress]

The frustration on Rann’s face was impossible to hide as he fell down flat on the bed, then he brought his hands to his face and sighed into his hands.

“It’s not a weapons lock or a scan.” He said, muffled into his hands. “My guess?” He said as he sat up in the bed just in time for a series of small beeps to sound over the intercom, an incoming hail.

“It’s your friends,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment as he swung his legs off the bed and stood up as a message played signaling the arrival of Imka’s DRO comrades.
I almost wish it was pirates. he thought quietly to himself.
Imka Larue

 

[Imka Larue]

"It's not a weapons lock or a scan."

"Oh-" though quite familiar with the various alert sounds of her own ship, beyond that she was at a bit of a loss. Imka could fly her ship really, really well. Just don't put her in anything else and expect brilliance.

"My guess? It's your friends."

"Oh!" she scrambled off the bed and back to her feet, "Thank the Gods-" a statement which may have come at not the most fortunate moment. The ship gave a hefty jolt and shudder, sending mild panic throughout the other occupants. Imka stumbled across the room, latching on to the chair by the table and watched as the wine bottle toppled off the edge to roll across the floor. Luckily it had been stoppered and didn't break.

With a wild glance back at her companion, she quickly exited her room out into the hall and was immediately met by a few of the less-wounded who voiced their worries. "Take your seat, please! Stay secure - it should be my team, just give me a moment to see." Pushing past them, urging them to sit down again, Imka moved back into the cockpit to gaze out the viewport at the massive, gleaming white cruiser with the words EVE FOUNDATION painted across the hull. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and moved to engage them on the comm.

"Hailing EVE Opal 6, this is D.R.O. Larue - do you copy?"

"D.R.O. Larue - we received your distress signal. We have the ship in lock. Please confirm target count."

"26 survivors, 7 in critical condition."

"Affirmative, bringing you in to Bay 3. Prepare to offboard. Medical teams standing by."

 

[Rann Thress]

Rann continued trying to hide his disappointment as he walked to a drawer and retrieved a black tanktop that he threw over his body as the ship shuddered and rocked, startling Rann as he looked around alarmed. Imka, however, didn't seem too bothered save watching the wine topple off the table it was on

"N-Ahhhhh Damn!" he said, reaching in vain as the wine dropped to the floor, spilling everywhere over his floor. He and Imka locked eyes quietly before she left the room. "I thought they were supposed to leave quietly in the morning...After." He said quietly to himself, lamenting the loss of his ill-gotten luxury and a relaxing, fun night as he walked over, defeated, and picked the bottle back up. Holding it at eyelevel, he saw a little less than a quarter left and quickly gulped it all down, smacking his lips and sighing.

At least I didn't pay for it...well, with money. He thought, placing the bottle back down. No use stoppering it, damage was done. He exited his quarters and made his way back to the cockpit, pushing past whatever wounded were still standing with a mix of frustration and curiosity. As he entered the cockpit, he took a seat in a free station and stared out the viewport.

"Nice ship" he said with a whistle, "Classy."

"So that jostle was a tractor beam I'm guessing?" He asked, turning his head towards Imka. Rude to just *do that* he thought. "Anything you guys need me to do to help, just let me know. We're almost home free. Although I'd feel better if we were at least three systems away from this blasted planet."

Imka Larue