Enchanted to Meet You

[Lord Ghoul]

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

The hangar smelled of fighter fuel and hydraulics. Alliance flight jockeys strutted about. Mechanics scurried. Laughs filled the air every now and again. Smiles too. A happy place. Good, he wanted her to have that, at least, if nothing else.

Mikhail watched her from the shadowed corner, only catching infrequent glimpses of her dark hair and eyes that looked like his. Someone held out a hand to stop her as she passed, a fighter jock. He spoke, but Mikhail was too far away to hear. Not too far away to watch her check the guy against the wall with a flick of her fingers and stalk past.

He chuckled, an odd sense of warmth stirring inside. Pride, maybe. Pride in what she'd become without him. He told himself it was better this way. She was better off without him. He would only get her hurt. A dull ache returned to his chest. Funny how much pain you can feel... even when you're dead.

Careless of passers by, he leaned against a recess in the wall, half-hidden in the glooms of that alcove. He wore a black leather jacket and plain clothes of sombre hues. Nothing remarkable really, what with scrub lords striding about in flowing capes and the burlap brigade stomping around imperiously in their ridiculous robes.

The raven-haired man ran an idle hand through disheveled locks, features sharp and brooding.

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The girl ran a hand through her hair, brushing away long golden locks from her eyes to rest just behind her ears. She carried herself with dignity and confidence. It took a great deal of time, a monumental amount of effort, and a colossal feat of determination to finally fit herself in with the men she found herself beside on a day to day basis. Though not an official member of the Alliance, she had undertaken a number of missions both behind and in front of enemy lines.

Her training was far from complete, far from being any type of force to be reckoned with. Hell, she didn't even have her own lightsaber just yet. What she did have though was cunning, wit, and logic. Her mind would get her out of most binds, her minuscule grasp of the Force allowing her to compensate for a lack of weapon, while her fencing and self defense training would often handle the rest, should all go south.

She'd returned just recently from a flight practice, her first real test in a two person starfighter. There was quite a bit Jamie still had to learn, that much was clear. The ability to become an Ace was slim, probably entirely non-existent, but some training was always better than no training. Who would know for sure? Perhaps one day it may get her out of a real serious bind.

The blonde pushed through the large double durasteel doors, making her way towards the dorms where she could shower, freshen up, and relax for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps catch a few episodes of Sith is the New Jedi that she'd missed while out on the edges of space over the course of the last few weeks.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

He caught one last glimpse of her before she moved farther into the hangar and vanished. Mikhail took in a breath, let it out slowly. Playing guardian angel required restraint. Something noticeably absent in him. A man who'd spent over half his years leaving a wake of graves to fill hardly fit the bill. Shorn's lips curled into a melancholic ghost of a smile. Better without me.

Absent minded fingers fiddled with the ring on his right hand, spinning it over and over as he wandered down a hall. To the senses of others, he would appear to have a normal aura, not even capable of using the Force. Normal, hah. Good one. He imagined the sounds in the hangar would be anything but happy if he'd revealed his presence. Screams, maybe. Not like the ones in his nightmares. Alexis' choking gasp as his saber plunged into her chest. The shrieks of the Senators of the Republic as he ripped them apart, watched them fall to the floor below. Rosa's anguish at the loss of her child. The feel of his fingers tearing deep into Andra's belly. A chill crawled across his spine.

Lost in thought, Mikhail rounded the corner.

"I need a drink- Oof."

Someone bumped into his chest. Eyes the color of glacial pools glanced downward and came alight with sudden mischief.

"Well excuse you. A little handsy there, Barbie. At least buy me a drink first."

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The thing about Jamie was that she often had a million and one things running through her mind at once. So much so that she simply paid no attention to where she was going or what she was doing. Her eyes set her on a path and she rarely deviated from it. Turning the corner her head had been down, eyes looking at the floor as she mumbled this or that to herself. That was when she stumbled blindly into an obstacle she hadn't anticipated on being there.

It was soft, organic, a person. "OH! Gosh!" She said as she bounced slightly off of the man's chest, stepping back a step or two, pale blue eyes looking up to see who it was she had just ran head on into.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention."

His words, once registered in her head immediately forced her cheeks to redden, lips thinning as she swallowed the knot in her throat. "I-"

What do I say to that? Is he...Awkwardly hitting on me? Is he joking? Oh gosh. Pay attention where you're going, dummy!

Jamie averted her eyes for a moment. "Um...Didn't mean to."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The discomfort of others formed Mikhail's bed of ease, made all the more plush by his complete lack of consideration for what others might term a personal bubble. Her chagrin only elicited a slight smirk.

"Mhm."

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, noting the slightly greasy hair, the flight suit the smell of sweat, the redness in her cheeks and the way she wouldn't meet his eyes. Shy fighter jock? No, something about that didn't seem quite right. Pieces of a human puzzle. Mikhail began to fit them together.

"In a hurry?"

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

"Ye-" She started to say, then held her words as her eyes turned back to look at the man standing before her. She realized she'd never seen him before. Granted, she wasn't someone of importance herself, and she hardly knew everyone that day, but she was surprised that he had taken any measure in interest in her, despite her having not seen him at any point up until now.

Her eyes looked just beyond him, where she'd been headed towards the dorms to the refresher and a bit of rest. "Yeah, sort of..." She studied him for a moment as he leaned against the wall. "I'm sorry, do I know you? I don't recognize you."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

That eyebrow rose again, the reticent smirk still present.

"I don't know..."

He followed her gaze, back past the hangars and toward what looked to be the living quarters. His thumb resumed spinning the ring around his finger. Maybe back when he was the Thronebreaker, feared by all and loved by none, he would've just pushed past her, or slammed her against a wall out of irritation, or something equally excessive. But being dead for six years made even the most banal of encounters seem a bit more interesting. Especially if they didn't have to do with dead Sith Lords torturing your soul.

Shorn looked back at her.

"Do you usually get to know people before running them over, or is it more of a random system?"

Six years dead. Maybe she might recognize his face. It had been on enough wanted posters and BOLOs. "Hey, aren't you that Sith Lord who went missing?" Well, that would make things horribly.... awkward.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Oooh! A sassy one!

Jamie squinted as she stared up at him. His snarky remark brought the slightest smile on her face, simply because it was a tad humorous. She would have to do some digging to bury that comment beneath her own wave of over exaggerated sarcasm.

"Depends on the day really. My congratulations! Looks like you were today's the lucky winner."

She drove her hands in a downward fashion, wrists turning hands and fingers inward to address herself. "One blonde haired accident."

The girl drew in a breath, her hand brushing away stray locks of hair from her face. "So, um..." There was a slow shrug of her shoulders as she wondered what exactly she was supposed to say now. Normally people apologized for their interruption and continued on with their day. This one seemed intent to study her for some reason. "I'm Jamie." That refresher was so close, and now still so far away.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The smirk shifted into a smile. Not so shy after all.

"Nice to meet you, Jamie. I'm...:

He hesitated for a bare second.

"Mikhail."

No offered hand. That was fine. Handshakes were boring anyway. Too formal. He rolled his eyes lazily as she glanced past him again.

"Hit and run. You felon. But we all have places to be."

Fingers wiggled goodbye. "See you around."

The raven-haired Sith sauntered away, heading straight for his favorite location in this little base. A place to drown regrets, like the fact that he had a dead member of the Alliance stuffed in his closet. Oh, don't get so sentimental. Nobody would miss that cretin. Besides, Mikhail had had to take someone's quarters. Forging his own documentation only got him so far. So, anyway...

...back to the wallowing in self-loathing.

Several hours later, Mikhail found himself leaning on the bar, on his - well, he couldn't really remember. They kept a tab open. He hadn't checked it yet. The bar tender occasionally shot him a worried glance. Mikhail just smiled and poured the burning, amber liquid down his throat.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie smiled and waived, "It's nice to meet you, Mikhail. Maybe I'll catch you sometime later!"

And like that she scurried off to cleanse herself of the filth she'd festered in throughout the day's activity.

One shower and a few hours later Jamie found herself with little else to do for the day. She had a few days on base remaining before she'd return to Cartao and her master. She'd already read the few books she'd brought several times, and her HoloFlix subscription had lapsed and she'd simply been too lazy to renew her account.

Instead she wandered down towards the bar for a drink or two, an hour of people watching, and then off to sleep. Though as she pushed her way through the gathering crowd within and took up a seat at the long horseshoe shaped bar, across the way she noticed the man sitting, and facing her as he drank. Judging by the slight sway in his shoulders and look in his eye, he was probably sitting there since she'd left him, and was most definitely a few deep.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A warm fire glowed in his gut, numbing away the better angels, if he still had any. Stang, did he really still feel guilt after all he'd done? No matter how often he drowned those halo-wearing freaks they always managed to rear their ugly heads, adjust their little tarnished diadems and remind him that he was, after all, still partly human. Better to feel nothing.

Nobody in the place would play darts with him anymore. That had stopped around the first hour, with murmurings of "stupid friggin' Forcer," frequently in the same sentence as, "cheater."

Tsk, tsk. Sore losers.

Leaning on his elbows, Mikhail tossed an insouciant gaze Jamie's way as she meandered on in. Their eyes met and Mikhail arched a dark eyebrow at her. Here he was, all the way over here. And there she was, all the way over there.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Looking over toward the opposite end of the bar Jamie gave [member="Mikhail Shorn"] a half smile and a bit of a waive, her lips mouthing one simple unspoken word Hi.

It seemed he recognized her, even in his apparent drunken stupor. Still, she had no idea what he was doing there, but judging by the few glasses that had accumulated in a small pile around him it certainly looked like he was looking to drink away some sort of recent event, memory, or problem. The bar-back would ask in passing what she wanted to drink as he handed off another round to a pair chatting a few seats down, before turning back to hear her order.

"Whatever you have for house wine is fine, thank you." Her voice was soft and kind, though the man behind the counter could hardly seem to care for mannerisms. Setting the glass down he poured a rather deep maroon liquid into a glass and pushed it over to her.

The girl then stood up and meandered over towards Mikhail, sitting beside him and setting down the glass. "What's your story?" She'd ask inquisitively.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Come back to run over my dreams too?"

The words dripped with a careless effusion of sarcasm, spun from lips so used to cutting quips they scarcely seemed capable of anything else. Far and away incapable of relating the sordid affair of his history in anything but shots of bitter humor, which would do their best to knee-cap forays of sincerity.

A sidelong glance. A narrowing of the eyes, then they rolled at her expectant expression, followed by an exasperated snort.

"Fine. Once upon a time, love sucks and people die. The end."

Mikhail tossed back the tumbler of whiskey, neck craned far back, draining the quarter-full glass in one go. He stared off at the ceiling for a moment, then his chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh and he turned back to Jaime, a smirk flickering at the edge of his mouth, like an ember trying to decide whether to live in flames or sizzle away and join the rest of the ash .

"Your turn."

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Well...Someone's just as charming with a gut full of alcohol as they are sober.

Jamie's lips pushed forward, a bit of air catching between them to puff them out. "Okay then." A sip of the red wine in hand and she would toss back blonde locks of hair before considering what to say exactly to that. He hadn't given her quite an answer, so much as declaring that the galaxy was poodoo. Gauging by the choice of words though it sounded as if he was a bit jaded on the subject of love or something.

"Well, I'm from Naboo." She gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Wanted to do something in the way of good for the galaxy, figured this was a step in the direction." Her eyes averted from Mikhail for a moment as she looked up at one of the HoloProjectors broadcasting a pod-race. Her finger pointed up towards it. "Do you watch ever? They're sometimes fun to bet on."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A lazy blink, maddeningly slow.

The room slipped away as Mikhail remembered. The raucous cheers of the crowds, the throaty roars of the engines spooling up below. Clouds of dust, obscuring the racers. The bated breaths of the people in the stands. Then, a glimpse of a familiar face in one of the pods. A Nautolan with a series of bad life decisions behind him, but the worst one of all had been earning Shorn's ire. He might have forgotten. Mikhail had not.

The lights turned. The crowds screamed. The racers revved their throttles and whipped away. But not the Nautolan. A gesture was all it took. A gesture and a rock through the engine turbines. Then the Nautolan's pod was spewing smoke, whirling out of control. Out of the race.

Mikhail's lips curled. The room returned to focus.

"I've seen one or two," he said, tone still full of that playfully leading, slightly mercurial quality, "But..."

Mikhail glanced up at the screen, wondering if he recognized any of these racers. He did not. Too bad. "They're better in person. Everyone's screaming. Smelly Tuskens everywhere." He gestured as if to indicate an army of malodorous raiders on the unseen horizon. "Hutts even show up. Explosions. Slave girls." Mischievous brows waggled, glacial wells glinting at her. Another swill of whisky. The glass clunked down. Somewhat tipsy.

A lot of tipsy, but not enough to stop toying with those puzzle pieces.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. "But I don't think that's why you like the races, Miss Naboo. Uh-uh," he shook his head, "You wish you were sitting in the pod, at the controls. You can't hear the roar of the crowd because of your engine, but it doesn't matter. You can see them cheering. The thrill of danger, excitement. Probable death. Your heart's about to beat out of your chest, but it doesn't matter. Because the faster it goes, the more you love it." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Tell me I'm wrong."

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie listened to the man speak through his drunkenness. It was rather entertaining to say the least, though not without its' merit. She had considered the proposition once or twice, having heard of Kurt's accomplishments and championship wins, though that wasn't enough to make her grab a helmet and hop into a pod-racer. She knew exactly how dangerous the sport was, how often racers found their way to unfortunate demises at the hands of raiders, or jealous competitors. No, that sport was simply not for her.

"I might have toyed with the idea a time or two, but not all of us are born to be in the spotlight. Some of us enjoy simply sitting by at a bar, sipping on wine and winning credits."

The girl gestured with her hand whilst holding the glass of wine toward Mikhail's collection of empty glasses. "Some of us more so than others. By my guess I'd say you've been here since we bumped into one another, no?"

Jamie assumed that was an accurate account of his actions that evening, and even if it weren't, or if he denied it, she would likely not believe it. A man that many deep had to have a series of extremely depressing events unfold in their life to warrant such a habit, lest they lack all self control that the human body is wired with at birth.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Icy shards rolled dramatically.

"Let's not nitpick over details," a sly cast to his features, but then that was nothing new. "I've had a glass or three."

Hmm, wrong again. He'd missed a corner piece somewhere and that nearly threw off the whole set. Shorn pondered how easy it would be to simply rip the information from her mind, but that would be no fun. Mikhail would just tease out each puzzle piece until he had a full picture of this Alliance Barbie.

He leaned forward, elbow on table, hand on cheek, eyes watching the way the light played with those strands of golden hair.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

"Right. A glass or three dozen."

Throwing that final word in as a small jab at his blatant lie was probably unnecessary, but it certainly felt satisfying.

"You never answered my question, by the way. Are you a pilot? A mechanic? Espion? Or just a guy who likes to drink, alot?"

If dodging questions was a professions she would have picked him out as a master of his craft. Normally she'd have simply ignored him, gone about her own business and left the man to drink away his problems, or mind. For some reason though she felt some odd curiosity to know what his story was. She'd never seen him around, and that in itself piqued her interest.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Oh, don't look at me with those judgy little eyes."

His nose wrinkled in feigned disgust.

Persistent. Trying to burrow into his life. Little vixen. Did she know his true identy and merely enjoyed playing with her food? Who was toying with who? If Shorn felt anxious about those thoughts, his features looked the opposite. Casual disregard in his posture toward the establishment, its denizens and the galaxy in general. But those eyes glinted with a mischievously curious light.

He sighed, as if giving in to her plying demands for conversational input. He raised his hands up in the galactic-wide recognized sign for "don't shoot."

"You caught me. I'm a hedonist," he smirked. "What about you?"

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

A blank stare was all Mikhail got in return. A few moments of silence followed by a tilt of the head and a roll of the eyes.

"That's deep." Two things became abundantly clear in that moment. First, that this man was incredibly adept at simply avoiding any type of meaningful conversation, and second, that even if he were capable of such a thing, his inability to make even a modicum of effort in engaging dialog was nothing short of a durasteel wall.

"Put your hands down, you're not under arrest. Being painfully drunk surprisingly isn't a crime."

The blonde sighed, why was she even bothering? Was it because he was simply the only acquaintance she'd known in the bar? Possibly, though one could hardly call their earlier meeting a meeting to begin with. Jamie took her wine in hand, slid herself off the chair next to Mikhail and began to wander over toward one of the empty billiard tables, turning her head long enough to simply say, "Just a girl with a lot of questions I guess."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]