Low Life

[Kenth Typho]

"Tangled with 'em a couple of times." Locke responded vaguely or perhaps absent-mindedly. Like he was looking back into the past towards the missions and the events transpired.

"Been in a bunch of nasty places, but the Sith, they consistently manage to top my wildest expectations."

Once, Elly had to infiltrate a cabal of Sith Sorcerers, only to find out they were into human sacrifices and cannibalism. Wasn't all too pleasant a scene, still had nightmares about that one sometimes. But that was the risk of the job, wasn't it? Had to take the negatives with the positives.

Whatever the latter ones were.

He hadn't really figured out that part yet.

"Whatcha looking at, Perl?" While the reply was forthcoming, the agent took his time and observed her in kind. Pretty lines, laughing lines, but there was a grimness to it all.

She has seen too much in the galaxy, hasn't she? Some people get chomped down, never to be seen again. This one is stronger than that, stronger than most anyway.

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Subtle observation had its time and place, but to hell with it. Joza wasn’t overly concerned with getting caught eyeing someone up, at least not right now.

“Nothing much.” Keeping the tingles of amusement out of her voice took a conscious effort, but she couldn’t help a twitch of a smile while polishing off her third glass of the evening. Afternoon? Ah, who knew anymore.

She toyed with the empty glass, focusing on her distorted reflection at the bottom for a few moments to gather her thoughts. A soft buzz burned in the back of her throat from the drink, a side effect of building her tolerance back up from a dry pregnancy.

“They can be a surprising bunch,” She muttered in refence to the Sith. “Aside from their wardrobe. Black on black on crimson on black. Almost as bad as the Jedi and their scratchy robes.” Being a fresh faced and terrified new Padawan had been enough for her, but she’d willingly put on the drab uniform. No matter the alignment, she swore to herself never again would she wear something that awful.

Tilting her head, she now leaned the side of her face in her hand. “Humor me,” She was curious, no doubt about that. “What’s the craziest situation you’ve ever been in?”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

Amen to that, he thought to himself.

He had to wear both versions of that crappy robe far too many times.

"Craziest situation? Oef." The chair cracked as Elly leaned back, closed his eyes and gave it a good thought. So many operations over the years, so many... things he had done. Before that little black book could be opened, he opened his eyes and shrugged. Too many bad memories, but there were a few fun ones.

"This one time... I thought I was busting into an illegal gambling den." Frown disappeared as the laugh started tugging. "Turned out to be a gorram orgy."

He shuddered.

"Never seen that many tentacles in one place."

There were crazier things, of course. But he picked something amusing, something that wasn't all too serious and frankly depressing as kark for all of them.

"You?"

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

When she’d asked that question, she did it with the awareness that it would probably kick up some unsavory memories. And while she wasn’t interested in hearing those, the Zeltron was curious to see how he’d react. As much as she could tell, anyhow. Joza wasn’t exactly sure of what he did, but gathered that it had to be something intelligence related. That, coupled with his charming demeanor and the way he held himself did made her wonder just what he’d been through to shape him like that.

Which begged the question, why did she care? He wasn’t an ally or even a friend, just a man she happened to cross paths with twice now. Fate wasn’t a thing to her, but coincidences were, and she couldn’t seem to let this one go.

A slow grin split her lips, partially hidden as she turned her face into her hand, laughing into it. “That one must’ve been a shock. Not the type to take advantage of an opportunity like that?” Back was that teasing voice.

Humming in thought, Joza found that it took her longer than she’d imagined to come up with a good story. Considering that she had posed the question, you’d think that she had one in mind.

“Might be that time I got training from a Mandalorian.” Her father, but that little detail could be left out. “He dressed me up in that beskar, pushed me off of a cliff into a lake below…I don’t think I’ve ever sworn so much in my life.” Her eyes lit up with clear amusement, and she was actually looking back on the memory fondly to her surprise. “Made me swim out while being shot at repeatedly, then had to run an obstacle course complete with snakes.” A small shudder accompanied the end of her explanation. “I hate snakes.”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

"Like... maybe if the tentacle percentage was ten percent and not sixty-five?" In truth Elly was a lot of things, but he wouldn't do that on the job. Might not have been very festive or partying behavior, but there ya had it. When it was his day off he didn't mind doing some crazy stuff. Outside of that? There was a responsibility that he carried and he'd carry it well.

Stand-up for the little guy.

Make sure all those Jedi and Sith didn't forget about their existence while they were stamping on them in their eternal conflict.

This girl is different tho, isn't she? or is that the drink talking, Elly?

Elliot Locke. Remember.

"Mandalorians, ha." He chuckled softly. "Those fellas are insane- a bit too intense for my liking, what with the endless crusading and things. But at least they aren't Sith, eh?"

Part of him should have probably be more worried about them. Illum, then the thing on Ossus, but the drinks were good right now and he didn't want to think about the Mandalorian threat rising not far away from here. That was a thing for another day- hopefully it would never come, hopefully brighter heads would prevail and stick to their territory.

Snakes, heh. A grin showed again- made him look about five years younger, made the worry lines go away.

"Whatcha say about one more drink and then we get outta here?"

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“Yeah,” She agreed, face softening for a bit, toying with her glass as if she were in some sort of far-away thought. “At least they ‘aint Sith.” She smiled, a bit distant, but quickly pulled herself back into the conversation. Eyes bright, posture alert but not overbearing. Joza had mixed feelings over Mandalorians as of late. On one hand, her father was a Warmarshal and the rest seemed to tolerate her just fine. On the other hand, Ossus had left her buried under a pile of rubble.

It occurred to her that it had been awhile since she’d had a conversation like this. He’d picked at her curiosity more than usual, but she attributed that to her interest in coincidences and the fact that he had engaged her.

That, and she hadn’t gotten laid since the conception of her child. An eternity to her kind.

“I’m willing to go for another round if you can.” She leaned back, wincing as it turned into more of a stretch. How long had they been sitting here for? Reaching forward, Joza slowly curled her fingers around the neck of the bottle that was still loosely in his grasp, perhaps inadvertently brushing against his hand as she did so. She’d gently work the bottle from him, breaking eye contact only for her gaze to drift downwards to his discarded glass, flipping it over and pouring each of them another round of the amber liquid.

Unintended yet instinctual.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

He had to remind himself that Zeltroni had a gorram second liver.

Probably helped a bit with their alcohol consumption, but no Zeltroni was Elliot freaking Locke, no sir. Didn't even deem it worthy a response, instead the SIS agent watched her pour in their glasses and then carefully took his. In truth this had been long over due- he hadn't taken an official break for over a year now, just didn't feel comfortable about it what with everything happening in the Galaxy.

But even the toughest people could be grind down by this job.

Always pretending to be someone else. Getting into nerve-wrecking situations. It was doable if you had the Force to fall back on, Elly pondered to himself, but that wasn't the same thing as being just a regular old mook running around and trying to keep up.

"To coincidences." He finally said, raising his and chucking it down in one go. The burn was good, made him feel alive- made him feel more things than he usually did on a night like this.

He watched her, her hands, her smile, the twinkle in the eye. Then Elliot smiled and started to raise himself out of his chair; still steady, still capable of walking or running on the roof.

Well, probably not the roof, but maybe a decently-sized balcony.

"Let's go."

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“To coincidences.” Voicing her agreement, she decided what the hell and mirrored his movement in tilting both her head and the glass back to down it completely. It burned something fierce and something good, and she nearly choked—it wasn’t as if she did this every day anymore. Ten years ago on Zeltros she wouldn’t even bat an eye at something like this, but then again she’d never exactly been the careful type when it came to her vices.

Bringing the glass down to rest, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that she was connecting with someone, no matter how vague and imagined it may have been. She wasn’t about to let something like conscience ruin a good time. He seemed to loosen up as well, a far cry from the irritated man threatening to pluck the bird chefs in her kitchen. What could have turned into a brawl had become a decent conversation.

Rising shortly after him, she patted down the wrinkles in her jacket and tossed her hair over her shoulder. The dingy atmosphere of the restaurant started to weight on her now that she’d been brought back to their surroundings. “The smoke is bothering me in here anyhow.”

Never mind that the streets would be chocked with the same smoke, or the fact that she’d contributed to the layer of near-smog that hung over the restaurant with a few cigarettes herself.

"Where to, Mr. Locke?"

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

It was something akin to amusement that flashed when she almost choked in the burn.

Girl can hold her drink, but not as well as me. But then again, he had just spend a month being a gorram illegal shockboxer with a drinking problem or two. Wasn't a surprise, then, that the time left him with a perspective where good whiskey was nothing more than just a tickle on his throat.

A credit chit was dropped on the table- enough to cover the food and the drinks, because that was just the kind of guy he was. No freebies taken, when he had the cash to pay. Just didn't seem right.

"Got a place nearby." Elly said over his shoulder as he moved to leave the restaurant behind. Outside... it was as expected, the street itself wasn't all too crowdy. Just a few stranglers here and there; some people passing by, nothing all too strange. He stopped there, outside and got out cigarette.

Before eyeing up Joza.

"You smoke, Perl?"

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza paused, eyes dropping to where he’d placed the credit chip on the table, but didn’t linger. She’d fully intended to have his meal paid for alongside the drink—she’d told him it was on the house. It wasn’t necessarily to up the reputation of Igor’s Palace, but moreso to express her gratitude for his help on Atrisia. The Zeltron had her humble moments. She’d deal with that later, though.

The cool outside air was a welcome change from the smoke choked environment, and she inhaled deeply before letting out something that resembled a satisfied sigh. When he prompted her with a cigarette in hand, she paused.

Like a damn chimney.

She’d quit cold turkey during her pregnancy, not wanting to screw up the child’s life any further. The first few months had been excruciating with hormones and withdrawal and whatnot, but gradually she’d acclimated. It was only recently where she’d picked up the habit again, trying to restrain her addiction to cancer sticks for special occasions. Nervous, anxious occasions. But hey, it didn’t always have to be that way.

“I do,” She responded smoothly, for a moment looking as if she had more to say. Breifley, her eyes turned up to sweep along the buildings, all sandwiched together. “You live in the Corellian sector?”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

He got himself a cigarette, lit it up and took a puff.

Felt the chemicals do their charm. Make him centered, relaxed, not all that tense within the situation itself. He offered her one and would light it for her, if she accepted the cancer stick. It was a good thing they lived in a Galaxy with bacta and all the other miracle substances, these days you really needed to get karked over or be shot in the head on a warzone to die.

Otherwise there were always options.

If you have the money. Not everyone has the money, remember that.

"Sometimes." Elly replied, before shrugging. "I move around a lot- got places to crash on a few worlds."

He gestured with his head to follow him. Wouldn't be a short track, but not long enough for an airspeeder, but if there was one thing that Elly got from all the missions and getting kicked in the face? It was great stamina.

About five to ten minutes later, mostly spend with some light banter and thoughtful silence, they arrived.

Unassuming street, unassuming door. He unlocked it and they entered a common corridor with a stairway up, nobody around or loitering.

"Appartment, there are five other people living here- quiet, keep to themselves. Ain't too expensive either." He drawled over his shoulder, as they walked up one set of stairs, before ending up before the door. First floor: if you needed a quick exit, the fall wouldn't kill you.

--

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

After a moment of thought, she took the proffered cigarette and nodded as he lit it for her. “Thanks.” One slow drag later, she tilted her head to the side and exhaled a huff of smoke. Always a bit anxious for a Zeltron, the nicotine helped to smooth her nerves a bit. Mixed blood probably had something to do with it.

As they made it to Locke’s apartment, Joza followed him from the outside into the common area. She took the place in with quick glances—not out of anything but polite curiosity. It seemed to be a decent place, and all was not bad on the smuggler’s moon in terms of housing. Just happened to be a large disparity between the more affluent areas and the rest of it all.

Usually she slept on her ship while doing work on Nar Shaddaa. That, or she stayed in the underground part of Igor’s…but paranoia kept her from doing that too much.

"Sounds like you've found yourself a decent place."

When he moved to unlock the door, Joza leaned one side of her body against the wall, facing him. Her head rested on the door frame, wisps of smoke rising from the lit cigarette that sat idly between her lips, and just watched him. Not in an aggressive or predatory manner, but just took in the way he moved and the subtle changes in his facial features.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

"I know I am a good-looking guy, Perl." Elly mumbled out from between his cigarette and key fumbling. "But I wasn't aware that there was so much to see."

The sound of the key turning in the lock followed by a click sounded next.

As for his movements. It was clear he was at least slightly tipsy, by the way of his slow gestures, yet, there was a silent strength hidden behind the moves. Concentration and focus, like the string of a guitar coiled and spanned. It was clear that the man was military at the least, a soldier who was completely comfortable with his own body and the strength within it.

"You may enter." A wink and he pushed the door open. He'd follow soon suit. It was a mess, but a ... charming mess that spoke of a certain amount of character. Minus the pizza box trash, of course. Elly did like to clean up after himself, usually.

"Don't mind the mess."

 

[Joza Perl]

A pair of red brows arched as a bit of a seedy smile curled her lips. Leaning in closer, her heated breath would tickle his ear as she murmured something softly to him. Joza was playing off of her buzz right now, letting herself enjoy the influence of the drink. For all the indulgences the Zeltron had, restricting them was a necessity when offworld. Even leaving Zeltros for the first time had been a shock, followed by pheromone withdrawal. It had taken a lot to adjust, but Joza had settled.

As he opened the door she pushed herself from the frame, offering him a half-smile. “Such a gentleman.” Moving into Elliot’s apartment, she hummed idly to herself as she took a few steps in and gave it a few polite glances over—nothing lingering that would suggest displeasure. The clutter didn’t bother her, but was actually somewhat of a comfort. Pristine surfaces and the like occasionally made her feel a bit anxious, as if she’d break something if not careful. When she had the time to feel that way, anyhow.

Removing her jacket one sleeve at a time, she slipped it over her arm and turned to face her host. She wore a simple dark tank top—nothing overly sexual, but plain in nature. “Do you have any place I can put this?”

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

Eyebrows rose up, toothy grin followed soon after.

He strode into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him and followed her into the room. There was a beat in his step, one that matched the one of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the cigarette already discarded so it wouldn't calm him down. If there was one thing he did not need right now was calmness, no. There were bigger and better things around the corner.

"Yeah." He stepped up, they were close now. Didn't take much doing to nudge the coat to the floor and wrap his arm around her waist. "There's just fine."

Zeltroni, they were a fun bunch. The pheromones made him wary though- though the girl didn't seem to be one of those flowers who walked with a whiff of it wherever she went. One of the few reasons they landed here in the now.

Sam pulled her in, went in ninety and waited there, hot breath washing over her lips and waiting for her to follow ten.

Challenge her, Sam. Make her want it.

 

[Joza Perl]

She watched him with light interest as he approached her, a faint tingle of amusement in her eyes. The jacket slipped to the floor and for a moment she thought to glance to it, but her attention was best spent elsewhere. The coat was forgotten as Elliot wound an arm around her waist, giving way to a brief tingle of anticipation in her chest. Her heart thumped heavier for a moment, and she embraced the sensation rather than trying to smother in. Maybe it had been more nurture than nature, but Joza always endorsed feelings of pleasure rather than shaming them.

That was certainly how she’d gotten into a few messes. But she’d grown with the experience, became warier. On the outside looking in, this encounter was dangerous—the man had a knife to her gut an hour ago. He could have been ordered by SIS to terminate her or whatever. But risks? Risks only made it better.

She anticipated his lips on hers when she’d been drawn closer, but could only smile when she realized he was hovering. A small, almost wicked and knowing smile, curling the edges of her mouth. She wondered if that would set the tone for the night.

Her organic hand slipped up to his face, cupping Elliot—or Sam’s?—chin between her fingers, in a similar hold to the one she’d taken earlier. Only this time, there wasn’t much inspecting going on. Not with her eyes, anyhow. She’d pulled him forward, closing the gap and pressing her lips to his own, tongue tracing his bottom lip softly. The hand at his chin remained, and her thumb stroked along the stubble at his jaw.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

He felt like he had died.

A groan escaped him as he turned around. The blanket was dragged away or rather stayed where he was as he turned, feth. Elliot opened his right eye and immediately closed it again. Too much gorram light. He turned around again, but the blanket had fled from his grasp for ever now.

He opened his left eye now.

Pinky? Pretty butt. Pink? The hell- it was starting to come back to him now. He groaned against, softly this time, before finally getting a hold of himself.

He was a gorram SIS agent. Licensed to kill and with an unconquerable will. This would pass and it would pass right this instant, because there was no time for rolling about. He turned back onto his other side and finally got his feet to the ground. Now, where did I leave my pants... hmm... pants. pants. pants pants pants- how the hell did they get up there. Well, that's a lost cause, if I ever saw one there.

Took him another few moments to find his underwear. For some reason they were around her leg, took him a bit of a hassle to get them out without waking her. Bottle of... hmm, beer, not too bad, on the counter and was used to wash out the filthy taste in his mouth, before spitting it out the sink of the kitchen. Coffee... coffee wouldn't be too bad right now. Took him another few seconds to get that up and going, before he headed for the bathroom and locked himself in.

Time to assess the situation.

 

[Joza Perl]

The loss of the blanket didn’t wake her, but had given way to a slight chill on her skin after a few minutes. In order words, Joza began to stir, grunting softly before rolling over onto her back and splaying out across the bed. It…wasn’t her bed. Had she fallen asleep in Ivan’s room again? Or on the couch after a long intermittent night of dealing with a fussy baby who refused to be sleep trained?

Reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes, she practically smacked herself in the face with the heel of her palm. It woke her up some, and after a bit of shifting she’d sat up in the bed and looked around curiously. Just as well, memories of the previous evening began to surface. Which begged the question, where had the man gone? Right now though, her primary concern was getting re-clothed. Somehow, her bra had managed to hang from the hinge of the door.

Dressing was a quiet affair, and she crept out of the bedroom with careful steps, carrying her shoes with one hand. Her jacket was still where she’d left it last night—thank the Force—on the floor near the kitchen. Gathering the coat in her arms, she fished through the pockets and retrieved a mini data pad. Four unread messages from Ivan, and she grimaced. They had plans to leave Nar Shaddaa yesterday and head over to Demonsgate, but she’d gotten sidetracked and he would be grumpy. Putting him out of her mind for the time being, Joza craned her head over one shoulder, then the other. No sign of Elliot in the kitchen or living room. Maybe he’d gone out.

Making her way over to the kitchen table, she took a piece of scrap paper from the charming mess and jotted down a quick message.

Not bad, Locke.

I told you drinks were on the house.

She wasn’t exactly sure how much the bottle had cost, but slipped what she deemed to be an appropriate amount of credits underneath the corner of the paper. With that done, she straightened out and headed for the door. Part of her didn’t want to leave, if only for delaying having to deal with an irritated pilot.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Joza Perl"]

It was then that Elliot, now with a towel wrapped around his waist and still a touch wet from the shower, stepped out of the bathroom and walked into Perl's creeping exit. He took a step back, blinked, looked at her and then the little pinky message on the counter. Didn't take too much out of him to put one and one together.

"You heading out then?" Ely asked, before circling around her and back to the kitchen. "I got some coffee, if you need it." He called over his shoulder.

In truth he didn't mind much, though it was a bit strange she tried to sneak out, but that was her business.

Still weird though.

The coffee was done by the time he was in the kitchen and started pouring himself a cup. Smelled the right way, tasted even better and he felt more awake than he had - even with the cold shower shaking him up from the dream.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Oh,” She straightened out some, tilting her head towards Elliot as he emerged wrapped in naught but a towel around the waist. She didn’t try to hide her lingering gaze. After all, he did have a nice body. “Yeah.” She held up her still lit datapad. “Pilot’s been trying to reach me it seems.”

Green eyes unfocused from his athletic form at the thought of caffeine. “Coffee sounds good.” Putting her shoes down, she followed him into the kitchen and too the liberty of pouring herself a cup. A dull headache had wracked the front of her head since she’d gotten up, and the boost of caffeine would probably help for the time being. That, and it would make dealing with a grumpy Corellian easier.

“You alright, Locke? I didn’t wear you out too badly, I hope.” Leaning against the counter, a tingle of a smirk twitched her lips.

[member="Elliot Locke"]