Night Club of Sin--the Angel's Den (Open To All)

[Dia Torr]

Dia smiles back. "The same Coruscant scotch as the last three, on him." As the bartender takes her glass and refills it, she tilts her head over to her new drinking partner. "So, you must have come upon some windfall to be buying rounds."

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok grins again.
"Yeah, It was one hell of a day. Some mandalorian burst into my ship and demanded I go to Takodana. So i flew there and he demanded I head to the Maz Kanata ruins. So I go there, and blast this fool. but I'm curious as to why he made me go there, so I look through the ruins, and I find a jackpot of goods. bu you know what else I found?"
D'vok's eyes move shiftily around the room, before his voice falls to a hushed tone.
"A lightsaber belonging to Darth Vader. I sold everything but that, and now I got more credits than a hutt, and a nice twi'lek to share a drink or two with. It just keeps getting better."

 

[Dia Torr]

Dia raises her brow at the mention of the lightsaber. "An artifact from the Civil War? You sure it's the real deal? There are a lot of fakes out there."

She takes a sip of her drink with a bit of a scoff. You wouldn't just FIND a Skywalker's lightsaber. Anything relating to Vader should have been cleaned out long ago. But what does Dia know, all lightsabers look the same to her besides color. It might just be.

"Either way, congratulations on the big haul otherwise. Just had a big machinery part run myself. Though I'm not 'drinks on me' rich."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua stood outside the lively club, nervously tapping his meaty finger against his leg. With every tap, his heart jumped. He never liked crowds, or pushing through them, or accidentally squishing someone while pushing through them. With a deep sigh, the Herglic opened the door timidly, kneeled down, and entered the pub.

The first thing that hit him was the sound. Louder than a thousand engines, the crowd buzzed and yelled and sang. Ghorua grew more comfortable as he realized that the horde of patrons barely gave him a second glance. Most every other place he had been to, the music abruptly stuttered when he entered, but that was not the case here. Here, people drunk away, with no regrets or fears. I like this place already, he thought, pushing his way through the crowd carefully.

He found a spot at the bar, obviously too small for a Herglic such as himself. Ghorua opted to stand, resting his enormous arm on the counter, almost knocking over a bottle of some expensive drink. The counter creaked slightly as he shifted his weight to it. He looked over the crowd with a sudden surge of happiness. He thought about dancing with the rest of them, then decided against it. Besides the fact that he was almost twice the size of many of them, he was a terrible dancer. He waited for the bartender to come his way, tapping his heavy foot to the beat.

 

[Dion Kayl]

Gods, Dion thought to himself as Togrutan woman drew closer, she looks good in that dress. Truly, the blue fabric accentuated her copper-tone skin-- a mesmerizing combination. Azetha was near enough now that when she spoke he could just detect the sweetness of the rum she was drinking: "I can't wait to show you what I can do." Dion remained stoic, though his heart-rate increased a bit as she took his card and they briefly touched, her small finger lingeringly tugging his own near one of her lovely lekku before drifting away. "Me too," he responded in a slightly softer voice, considering their proximity. His eyes followed the card as it disappeared.

Blinking hard to regain his composure, Dion grinned and said, "I'll be in touch, then. Glad to have made your acquaintance... if I weren't on-the-job, I'd be glad to have a drink with you, but you know how it is."

[member="Ashalah Ky"]

 

[Ashalah Ky]

Her eyes tracked his every movement, everywhere his own eyes found themselves resting. He was staring at her chest now. She just had this man wrapped around her finger. Or she would have if he wasn't so damn eager to keep it professional. He blinked to regain his composure and Ash pouted. She almost had him too. "That's no fun," sighing, she let the pout fade from her face as she shrugged nonchalantly. "But I understand. A job is a job."

He was dismissing her now. She knew a send-off when she heard it. "Alright," she moved in even closer, laying a hand on his chest, leaning forward to place her lips against his cheek. She let it linger, knowing she crossed some kind of line, but knew that was only if it were anyone else. If Dion made an advance on her, she would welcome it. But if he remained stoic, then she would move away. "I'll be seeing you. Dion" She spun, feeling her lekku lift and spin with her like a Twi'lek on a stripper's pole. Then she disappeared into the crowd.

[member="Dion Kayl"]

 

[Dion Kayl]

Bright blue eyes, Dion thought as she kissed his cheek-- she had such bright blue eyes. As stoic as he was, there was no hiding the rapid beating of his heart with her hand on his chest. The sensation of her lips was like electricity mixed with novocaine, its tingling warmth remaining with him even after she drew away and he saw her eyes again, and her pout, and these were almost enough to make him forget where he was and what he was supposed to be doing and grab her arm as she turned to leave, pull her close, caress one of her enticing lekku, and kiss her back for real, and then, and then, and then...

Almost. But he did not do those things; they merely flashed through his mind like a composite of holomovie scenes he'd watched growing up. This was no holomovie.

He managed to repeat, "Be seeing you," as she went; he watched her go, and had the sudden thought: Gods, she's young. It was hard for him to tell how young, because his experience with her species was very limited, but in human terms she could be no more than early 20s; he sensed that she was in her prime, an all-around lethal combination of beauty and combat skill. If Dion had been a different person-- perhaps a younger version of himself-- he might have relentlessly pursued such a woman.

The cyborg security guard resumed his attentive, alert posture and eased back into the shadows. He silently practiced his mantra: Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. You are in control.

[member="Ashalah Ky"]

 

[Dancer]

[member="stardust"] [member="Triter Zone"] [member="Shak'Lzko'Loris"] [member="Dion Kayl"] [member="Ashalah Ky"][member="Ghorua the Fish"] [member="Dia Torr"]@D'vok Windroamer

Elissah, stage name "Mystique" started her first day on this new job. In actuality, there was nothing "new" to this job. She had been an erotic dancer her whole life, brought up in it, trained in it, to be the one like it. As she stalked to the top of the performance platform beside the twe'lik she grasped at the bronze pole and felt a sense of comfort. There was a security in the pole. A security that nothing else could bring--that nothing else would bring. It was your best friend, the women at the harem had told her, it would never fail you and you would come to trust it with all your life. She did, ever day.

Suddenly she firmed her grip and swung both of her legs up in a wide, lazy arc. Gaining momentum as she went 360 around the pole, Elissah, hefted herself up an armslength, her shimmering blue minipoodoo flairing up with her movements. As her stilletto-heeled foot pointed outward, the red-headed dancer spun around again, letting the whole bar get a good look at her trip, trained figure.

As the lights glistened wildly, the female wrapped a free leg around the pole and arched her back, head down and arms wide out, feeling the air as her momentum gained over several spins. Releasing her grip, she went down and twisted, grabbing the pole and swinging off it in a daring move---hooking her legs seamlessly around the next pole and carrying her weight into a second spin around this pole as she glided to the ground in a graceful splits, arms raised.


And to think, she was just getting warmed up.

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

How long had the masked padawan been in the club? Why, since shortly before [member="James Justice"] made his initial appearance, of course. His best friends opening night? Ryn wanted to make sure everything went off without a hitch. And by the Force it would!

He'd maintained indifference, skulking from shadow to shadow, somehow managing to artfully avoid the beams of lights being shone from nearly every angle, reflecting off nearly every possible surface. But still, unseen the padawan went. He was near the main platform when the red-head emerged. Lovely to the eye as she were, the padawan couldn't fully grasp why the female performers went with such revealing garments on when performing. Yes, the frills and dangling bits of cloth made sense. The movements caught the eye, and it definitely caught the predators eyes. But, the skin? He didn't quite grasp it. And likely never fully would. But, minor complaints aside, he could definitely appreciate she was a lovely sight to behold.

What he couldn't appreciate though, was how 'appreciative' a couple of 'gentlemen' were being near the edge of the scarlet-haired performers platform. More than once one of the males swiped a hand out, attempting to catch the girl. Obviously inebriated, these two needed to be dealt with, swiftly, before they got out of control. As he approached, one of the goons managed to grab onto the girls leg, tugging her away from her pole, and away from the security of the center of her platform.

"I'd recommend strongly that you unhand her." The padawan cautioned as he stepped out from what seemed like the darkness itself. "You...." He'd address the one not holding the woman, the weaker willed one. "Are you not thirsty? The Captain offered free refills. Go take advantage of that." He'd state, gesturing oh so subtly with a gloved hand. The moron would slur slightly incoherently, before stumbling away through the crowd.

With one less distraction, the masked padawan turned those molten golden pools onto the remaining cretin, who was still holding the girls leg, but was now glaring the interloper. "Now see here punk. Don't make me blast you, do you know who I am!?" It was at this point in time, Ryn ran out of his nearly infinite patience. He'd hold up his left gloved hand, arm angled at the elbow into a ninety degree angle, with his open palm facing the man. "Look. Look-look-look." The padawan said quickly, drawing the mans attention to the smooth, glossy leather encasing his palm. The distraction caused the man to loose his grip on the woman. As soon as that happened, his right first came swiftly across the mans jaw. The force of the impact found the man's head bouncing solidly off the base of the stage.

"Pick yourself up..." The padawan hissed as he knelt by the reeling drunkard. "And leave now, before worse happens to you. You're lucky, I'm generous." His eyes remained narrowed, as the man whimpered like a struck dog, and scrambled to his feet, heading straight for the entrance. Those who witnessed the exchange would likely cheer and clap, though the cloaked padawan paid them no mind. Turning to the accosted woman, Ryn would give a polite bow of his head. "Forgive me if I intruded where I wasn't needed..."

[member="Mystique "]| [member="Dion Kayl"] | [member="Ashalah Ky"] | [member="Dia Torr"]

 

[Dancer]

Mystique leaned forward slightly, letting her copious hinder quarters be more obvious. Giving her lips a half lick and partially closing her eyes in the expression she knew would make many species in the room loose their minds, she began to bounce her rear, the blue tassels on her skirt accentuating the movement. When the credits just began to fly, she arched herself up just enough to let her legs flow in a cascading "rainbow" revealing everything else she had for a brief second. The action ellcited an even sharper rain of credit chips. An amateur would have already started scooping them up. She was a professional, she knew more credits came to those who did not quit.

Pressing her well-endowed chest out slightly, Mystique reached back, arching to grab the pole again. As she pulled her arms to mount again, head down, her leg felt resistance. Someone had grabbed her. The former slave's instincts of docility suddenly threatened to overcome her stage bravery. They he came. Her blue eyes watched as he defended her. He stopped them, he helped her. A slave. He helped a slave.

When he spoke she rolled down onto her knees, at the edge of the platform, she smiled sweetly, her vibrant red lipstick that matched her hair standing out from her flawless, almost albino white skin. She let a finger in just behind his mask run a soft line along his skin, feeling fur. It did not surprise her. After having been forced as a slave to dance before the Hutts many times, she had felt many flesh feelings by far worse.

Lifting his chin slightly, she leaned in giving him a soft, gentle kiss on the mask's forehead. His eyes were rewarded with a generous view as well of the contents of her performance bra. She could tell without having to look what the other patrons were thinking: He was luckly. And he was. Lingering for a moment, she pulled away slightly and smiled again, winking.

"You are perfect," she said in a way that she knew would drive most species, regardless of gender, insane. Not that she eve cared what the gender was. She was beyond that point years ago in her early years of training. Both sides were equally dangerous and equal in their payments.

[member="Ryn'Dhal"]

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Again, while he may not have been able to fully comprehend the more basic of instincts, he was capable of appreciating beauty. And he'd had other expressions of gratitude before. But this.... Was by far the most.... emphatic. He'd blink several times, attempting, and failing, multiple times, to process what just transpired. You are perfect. The words danced through his head. He'd heard those words, independently, many many times. But, those three words, in that order, let alone used to describe himself? No, never.

It just didn't make sense to the padawan's mind. But.... She'd said it. The finger slipping under his mask though, had made him freeze momentarily, and her skin against his fur, sent a tremor through him, a thrill of electricity. Sensations that were very alien to him. She'd even 'kissed' him on the forehead. Or, the mask at least. And, after feeling his fur, and everything, she still said he was perfect.

The padawan was sufficiently stumped. He had no idea how to react. He'd mumble incoherently, though under the deafening thrum of the music, it was easily enough to disregard it as a reply of appreciation. He'd bow, properly this time, to the woman, before gesturing off to the side, signifying where he'd be, should she need him again. He would slink off into the shadows once more, unseen by the naked eye once again, but ever vigilant in his watch over the club. Though, observant of the area around the red-headed vixen in particular.

[member=Mystique]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] @Mystique


Ghorua sipped the drink he had procured tentatively, careful not to get drunk. Drunken behemoths like himself ended up in jail far too often. The size of the glass helped. The mug was obviously meant for a regular-sized human, so Ghorua was forced to take a little at a time. After a while, he let his gaze wander over the crowd again. He saw a redheaded dancer up at the pole, and his gaze faltered. She was karking attractive, and Ghorua thought about going over and oogling with the rest of the blarths, but decided against it. Although he was easily identifiable in a crowd, he wasn't exactly the most attractive to many species. Sadly, that included hot women.

Ghorua was rewarded by his lingering eyes when he saw a group of the hooters try to test their luck with the girl. He saw the tensing of a younger fellow in a mask, and the Herglic knew what was coming. The punch he delivered to the scum was strong and precise, a great swing for a man of that size. He clapped, along with a few of the other patrons. He looks like a riot, thought Ghorua, standing up, and pushing through the crowd again. Shifting his eyes, he saw the man off to the side, looking inconspicuous. The Herglic waded through the crowd, ending his advance next to the masked hero.

"Good swing, half-pint," he congratulated, patting his large hand on the little man's shoulder. "I mean, for a little guy." He smiled, looking over to the dancers again.

 

[Dion Kayl]

Dion had observed the drunk men hassling [member="Mystique "]from his post across the dance floor; his cyborg eyes shifted orange and zoomed in on them. When one of them reached out and grabbed her, Dion began moving towards their location with the speed and grace of a liquid, stepping lightly around and between partyers who barely noticed the security guard as he passed.

Dion believed in precision intervention and wanted to avoid, at all costs, inciting any sort of riot or panic, so he was planned to quickly, and forcefully, incapacitate the men and remove them from the club, but when he arrived at the edge of the dancer's stage one of the men had already left-- Dion would find him-- while the other was slumped against the stage with a nasty head-wound. The red-haired dancer seemed to be fine. Dion barely noticed a masked figure moving away and into the shadows, and made a mental note to keep an eye out for masked individuals. Whatever had happened here, it was over; Dion knelt to examine the man with the bleeding headwound, who also appeared to have been hit hard in the jaw, and determined that he was well enough to be moved. Dion lifted the large drunk man-- easily-- with one hand by the back of the shirt, his cyborg frame not straining a bit as he carried the troublemaker out to the back-exit and deposited him in the alley against a wall. "Drunk idiot," Dion said sternly to him, though he wasn't sure how conscious the guy was.

Next, Dion hunted down the other man he'd seen at the stage-- while keeping an eye out also for the masked individual-- and found him standing in line for the bathroom. Dion turned him forcefully by the shoulder and glared, "You're out of here." Luckily, the man was so drunk as to be incoherent and also surprisingly compliant, so he allowed himself to be led by Dion to the exit, where he promptly began relieving himself in the alley near his passed out buddy.

With that done, Dion surveyed the floor; that type of disturbance was exactly what he'd been told to expect on this job, and handling it was generally quite routine and painless, though he was still slightly concerned about the masked individual he'd seen so quickly disappearing. Anyone who was getting into fights in this club was a problem for Dion.

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] , [member="Mystique "], [member="Ghorua the Fish"]

 

[Dancer]

Mystique felt and saw that her actions had their desired affect. Well, not specifically what she had desired but the affected had been given. Some species, for one reason or another, enjoyed being bothered. If that was their form of pleasure, she would gladly give it. That was her business, after all.

The cloaked man walked away and she resumed her dance as if it had all been planned. When you were a professional like Mystique, you tended to be able to improv flawlessly.

She sat all the way up, extending her arms over her head and allowing the patrons a clear view of her jutting out chest, lingering a half a second. Satisfied, she continued arching back and her hands touched the floor and the dancer slowly flipped over, her legs in the classic v-position to grant the patrons a pleasant view. When her first foot hit the floor she pulled herself upright, letting her vibrant red hair get whipped behind her. The action elcited a small shower of credit chips. Reaching above Her head once more, the woman continued her performance right where it had been halted.

Pulling with her shoulder strength,she mounted the pole upside down Her hair dangling in a cascade of fire-like red hair. Whipping one leg, Mystique let herself begin spinning. Both her legs pointing out to her right. The blue vibrant tassels on her body and the colorful hair catching wind and whipping around wildly. A heavier rain of credits Came down in a reward for her wild dance. With her other hand still gripping the pole tightly she extended her right ar fully, fingers splayed out. An amateur who would try this generally would find themselves in the floor with a headache or worse. Mystique was not one of them. A credit landed in the Palm of her hand. The dancer wrapped her fingers around it and tucked it in her performance bra. The sensual action elicted a roar of approval; cat calls, cheers and clapping with more money. Most trying for her hand. She smiled softly, her scarlet lips curling at the edges.

[member="Dion Kayl"]
[member="Ghorua the Fish"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Ryn tensed for a moment as the.... man? ([member="Ghorua the Fish"]) approached. The tension quickly left as soon as he felt the larger sentient's intention was friendly, non-confrontational. The clap on the shoulder caused Ryn to lurch forward slightly under the weight of the massive hand. "Heh... There were lucky. Most others wouldn't have been as gentle as I was. I don't think either would have been leaving here with full capabilities had James gotten a hold of them..." He'd say, melodic voice distorted slightly by the mask, but still carrying up to the much larger beings ears over the music. "I am glad that justice was approved. Her's is a spectators sport. It does not warrant participation from the audience."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, as another would-be lech scanned about, obvious intent painted across his face as he approached the stage. Ryn stepped out into the light, eyes more than obviously locked onto the lecher. The man blanched under the glare of the masked padawan, and tossed a few credit chits to [member="Mystique "]before scurrying back to his table to the jeers and laughter of his 'friends'. "I may not look like much, but I will not permit disrespect to the sanctity of an individuals personal rights to persist."

His eyes scanned about, before resting on [member="Dion Kayl"]. He had peripherally observed the enhanced humanoid dealing with the drunkards. Reaching up to the side of his mask, he'd speak, hoping dearly Dion was on the com-line James had set up. "Hope I didn't step on your toes friend. I couldn't have riff-raff ruining my friends opening night. Please take no disrespect." If he heard the apology, Ryn could only hope....

[member="James Justice"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua laughed as [member="Ryn'Dhal"] made his quip about being gentle. "You're too kind, sir. If that was me in your shoes, I'd have turned them into pulp." Waving as the little masked man walked away, he leaned against the wall, observing him, and the dancer at the same time. She really was pretty. Ghorua laughed as the music intensified, letting the music wash over him like a rainstorm. He closed his eyes for but a moment, just enjoying the rise and fall of energy in the club. Without meaning to, he found himself at the edge of the crowd, watching the redheaded dancer go ham on the pole.

Eh, why not pay my respects to a fine art, he thought, throwing a few credits towards her. He turned his eyes to the masked man, who seemed to be looking at a guard. The Herglic looked on as a casual bystander, watching a hologram a thousand systems away.

[member="Mystique "][member="Dion Kayl"]

 

[Dancer]

At last she was winding down for her finale while the crowd was hungry and devouring her with credits.

She let herself twist on her arm in a pendulum motion as she spun on the pole. As her legs reached the apex mystique bucked her hips up higher. Her ankles wrapped around the second pole, she released herself into it agian, swinging wildly along it again. Her finger tips and hair brushed the ground as she reached the bottom. As she reached a 90 degree angle with the pole she arched her back and wrapped her hand around the pole once more.

Pulling her hips up again the red hair pulled her body up to the top one hand hold at a time. The taffles on the rear of her shorts and the length of her bra flailed wildly. The crowd roared in approval as she reached the top. Then the music stopped. Propelling herself off the pole in a graceful flip she covered ten feet of air landing on the bar as a pleasant surprise for the patrons.

As the music roared our again she bent low, knees and hips bent with her back arched. Truning her head slightly the redhead began twirking her hips. The credits showered around her thickly as the lights strobbed. After a minute of feeding the roaring lust of the crowd the lights dropped into total darkness when they reappeared she was gone, all remained was her tassled costume which the closest patrons began to fight for.

[member="Ghorua the Fish"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
[member="Dion Kayl"]

 

[Dion Kayl]

A voice came on the security com-link: "Hope I didn't step on your toes friend. I couldn't have riff-raff ruining my friends opening night. Please take no disrespect."

Dion paused and looked around; someone was observing him, though he didn't recognize the voice, and he assumed it was the masked individual. Scanning the room again with his enhanced vision, Dion finally caught sight of the mask he'd seen earlier near a Herglic who was standing out amidst the crowd. Touching his earpiece, Dion said into his communicator while looking towards the masked one: "I take no disrespect, however, I would appreciate it if you would have announced your intention to intervene with the 'riff-raff,' as you say. That is proper security protocol. I was nearby-- I could have helped, and perhaps together we could have avoided a fight, which is precisely the type of thing that would threaten to ruin this opening night." Dion's tone was even and professional; his orange eyes remained trained on the person he was addressing across the room, "Please stay there, I'm coming to you."

Making his way back to Mystique's stage, around which a throng of cheering onlookers remained, Dion confronted the masked one by first nodding politely in greeting, then saying, "Greetings, my name is Dion Kayl, I work for James. Obviously since you're on his private security com-link and claim to be his friend I should be able to trust you, but I like to know who I'm working with." Dion eyed the mask-- it was a little disarming, speaking to the inanimate visage. "You were very efficient, dealing with that situation earlier, and for that I thank you. I only ask that, if you are going to be operating in a security capacity tonight, you keep me notified via the com-link."

[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
@Mystique
[member="Ghorua the Fish"]

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Ryn nodded, and watched patiently as the man approached. He was thankful for the mask her wore, the head-wrap helping to dampen the loud, throbbing music. When the other reached the padawan, a gloved hand was extended in greeting. "No problem my friend. Communication is key, but at the time I'd not known exactly how efficient of security James had acquired. I should have held more confidence, and now that I've seen your promptness, I can confidently relax and leave it in your more than capable hands."

The smile on his face was evident in both those molten golden eyes, visible through the mask, and his voice, melodically dancing through the distance between the two. "I'll keep my eyes peeled, but I'll refrain from doing your job unless assistance is requested of me. Deal?" The padawan would ask warmly, mask angling slightly with his head tilting towards one shoulder.

Then the lights went dark. Ryn felt the chaos in the room, but also the energetic glee of whom he assumed was the scarlet haired performer as she made her escape from the performance area. When the lights returned moments later, Ryn was still facing the security guard. Offering a polite bow, he spoke again. "I'm afraid my presence is needed elsewhere, unless you have need of me now? Otherwise, I bid you farewell till next our paths cross my friend."

If not detained further, the masked padawan would head promptly towards one of the guarded access doors leading to the behind-the-scenes areas of the establishment.


[member="Dion Kayl"] | [member="Mystique "]| [member="Ghorua the Fish"]

 

[Elmora Raa]

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] [member="Dion Kayl"] [member="Mystique "][member="Ghorua the Fish"] [member="Ashalah Ky"]

Elmora couldn't think of the last time she'd been to a night club without the circumstances being a Bounty mission. Never the less she stood outside of the building, staring up at the luminescent sign while the loud music could be heard from within. She patted her belt to make sure her twin lightsabers were safe and in check and pressed open the doors to go inside. The first thing she noticed was the stench of alcohol, then possibly drugs, but she pushed in anyways. She felt all the drunkards staring into her, what was a sixteen year old Togruta female doing by herself in a strip club? Well she had reason to believe there was someone here she could... 'Negotiate with...' In exchange for a precious artifact. But she wasn't being hired on this time, she wanted it for herself...