The Things I've Always Been Denied

[Hazel Scheler]

It would be likely to his luck or perhaps unfortunate luck that the man’s armor afforded him protection in certain sensitive areas. He didn’t feel much, but the gesture was all the same, as was the pressure. The brief widening of his eyes was enough to indicate that much. Ivy gave a simple smirk as she watched his reaction, “...are you shy? I’ll go first.”

Off came Ivy’s shirt. She was still in a sports bra but it would likely get the juices flowing. Her demeanor seemed to shift from aggressor to patient asserter.

~~~~
Dumbfounded would have been a better fit for Tyrin, but something in him snapped back to place. This was a preposterous enough situation on its own, but continued reluctance was only going to exacerbate it. “Oh, you’re too kind.” He said, discarding his gauntlets like they weren’t expensive before fiddling with the chestpiece of his armor. “Truly.”

~~~

“I have my moments.”

And slowly, with some help from Ivy, the layers of the onion unicorn began to peel away. By the time they got down to bare Umbaran chest Ivy’s cybernetic limb was already warming up to him … aaand so were her lips. At some point between the alcohol and the doorway of the bridge she realized that the bedroom might be prime. But after disengaging the door lock and opening it to find a snarling, drooling blackspawn several feet away on the other side -

the word poodoo hit her teeth so fast that it threw every recollection of commands from her standing memory. She nearly didn’t hit the seal button fast enough. The darkspawn hit the other side with a resounding chorus of snarls and barks.

“Hnn,” hazel eyes lit upon the Captain’s chair.

Good enough, and better than durasteel paneled floor - not that Ivy wasn’t familiar with that particular setting. Mercs were a rough sort of creature, had to be adaptable, even for the enjoyable things in life. Hands on his hips she steered him back into the vornskr leather padded seat.

“Don’t worry, it reclines.”

Gerion commented on the presence of lumbar support and the woman snickered. Next he discovered the extensive rebuild of not only her arm, but her opposite leg from mid-thigh down as well. Bold as brass tacks, Ivy joined him on the chair, straddling him and leaning to release the recline lever.

A comfortable Captain’s seat was the only thing she’d demanded when filling her order for the ship from Aesir Neth of the Moross Crusade all those years ago.

Time to give it the official breaking-in.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Some time later...


Ivy stood over the command console slowly tapping through the keys to find their current location en route, sweat-slicked skin beginning to cool as the vents of the bridge kicked on. The alcohol had worn off over the last hour or so and she considered it again, noting that there was some left in the bottle off to the side, but decided against it.

The fog was finally lifting from her thoughts and as she considered her next move she realized that the recuperating Umbaran would probably like to catch a few winks. Say what you will about her age and battered self, Ivy was strong and her stamina noteworthy. Her mind was tired, though. Stims had kept her body going, but there was nothing that could cure a sleep-deprived mind except more stims.

"Come'on," her natural hand was offered to the man to help him from the chair, "still several hours to go. You can sleep in my room."

She could remember the commands for the beast now, and did so issue them tenaciously as she opened the bridge door, "Leave your things, I'll get them later."

Ivy lead the man down the short hall and into her room: clean, orderly. The only hint of use was the woman's armor on the form in the corner - every piece in its place. A small desk had a detained stack of datapads on it, likely holding missions and jobs. Off to the left the fresher and hamper, also neat and clean. An open closet had several pressed uniformed outfits hanging together. What other few pieces of clothing were folded away in receded drawers. The bed looked as though it saw very rare use. The sheets were folded to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight.

Blistered, pockmarked ship exterior, tidy bedchambers. Who'd have thought.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

I think I hurt my neck.

Tyrin continually pressed the back of his neck, stretching it one way or another every so often. Muted cracking only audible to him could be heard occasionally. Clearly the repercussions of this breaking in ceremony had been a mere afterthought during the actual ceremony. That was just the price of doing business, and one he'd probably pay several more times if given the chance. He took his hand off his neck and took hers when she offered it. Comfortable as it was, the chair wasn't going to be a suitable replacement for a bed. Yes, that sounded good right about now. Maybe a shower. He let himself be guided along through the ship. Why hadn't they gone in there in the first place? He couldn't recall.

When the doors slid open, Tyrin could only blink in surprise. This was all rather... Pristine. There was more in common here with a middle-class apartment in Lianna City than similarly dented up freighters the galaxy over. "Not a lot of mercenaries keep their rooms this nice." He remarked. "I'd almost think you were expecting me." Speaking of expectations, it suddenly dawned on him that the Darkspawn... Dog... Thing was probably still in there. Right. The feral creature that had been behind the original decision to use The Chair. Unless she had gotten up and ejected the thing into space while he hadn't been paying attention... Well, he wasn't going to feel safe on this ship until he got his armor back on, now that the grand distraction was done with.

The Umbaran hesitated. "Your, ah, pet's not still squatting in there... Is it?"

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"He's in what used to be the guest quarters down the hall," Ivy replied as she made her way over to her closet to pull on some fresh clothing, "and I grew up in a large militant family. Six brothers, four sisters and two very strict parents. Never kicked the habit..."

The strangeness of this habit in her particular line of work never really occurred to her until just now. Ivy cast a short look around the room over her shoulder as she paused in the middle of pulling a shirt on, hazel eyes landing on Tyrin as he stood in the doorway, pale Umbaran skin practically glowing in the dark.

"I don't like clutter anyway. As I recall," she pulled the shirt on, "neither do you."

Her memory wasn't so terrible that she couldn't conjure up images of the man's home on Umbara. Clean, simple, neat. She remembered feeling as though the couch upon which she had sat didn't see very much use.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Used to be? Oh, dear. He shouldn't have been at all shocked if the creature had torn the place apart. A beast like that could never have the same orderly sensibilities as its owner. Tyrin didn't wasn't terribly fond of animals or pets. They smelled bad and required an inordinate amount of training to even come close to something resembling proper behavior. Tyrin leaned himself up against the doorway, sneaking another stretch of his neck while she pulled the shirt over her head. Why did that still hurt?

"A clean home is a happy home, as my father used to say." Rarely would say, at least. This was in-between stints at the Umbaran Sith Academy where a young and impressionable Tyrin Ardik was being instructed in how to murder people for a living. "It's not a habit you'd want to kick. You should see how my siblings ended up, having servants do all the work for them."

Neilo was dead. Aurelia was about to be committed to a mental hospital, if not arrested and thrown away for life after that stunt at winter festival. No one said such things to someone from a Rootai family and got away with it for very long and yet she still refused to leave the planet. Unbelievable. That left only the barely-legitimate adopted son to do something half-way competent. What trying times for House Ardik, truly.

"No, you're far better off, I assure you."

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Sadly the damage of the Darkspawn would never hold a candle to the state the guest quarters had been rendered to by her previous beastly 1-ton tuk'ata hound. Lye had been large, lethal, and ever fond of the idea of having a bed all to himself. Said bed had to be replaced after the mangled mess left behind for the new dog in Ivy's life. The darkspawn hadn't seemed to find the same comfort in it yet - he much preferred sleeping in the space beneath it amidst the bone hoard hidden there.

Ivy smirked, pulled on a thong and then moved to the nearby desk and chair to sit and pull on a pair of work-out pants. Getting dressed when one had cybernetic appendages was just about as difficult as one could expect. She recalled having an easier time for it while completely hammered but fully natural. Really, it was the leg that caused the most trouble - the metal had a penchant for catching on soft fibers. She'd ruined more pants this way than she cared to admit.

"I'm too old for kicking habits," she said, which might have struck someone as ironic considering what her day job entailed. Bundling the left pant leg in the same manner a mother might do when putting a sock on a child, Ivy glanced up at him where he still lingered in the doorway, "gonna sleep in the doorway, Tyrin?"

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

"I hadn't planned on it." Tyrin replied, peeling away from the doorway. At some point he had put his pants back on. He did not fancy himself the type to strut around freighters as naked as the day he was born. Then again, up until just recently, he hadn't considered himself the type to engage in coitus in a captain's chair on that same freighter. This was very much a day of broadening horizons and envelope pushing. And watching Ivy re-dress herself, for whatever reason, only incentivezed him to continue pushing the envelope.

He sat himself down on the bed. "It's just, well, this is such a nicely made bed. I'd hate to mess it up."

Something in the way she moved, cybernetics and all... Very military. Precise. Ivy was wildly different than the women he usually spent this sort of time with. Scars, prosthetics, battle armor... Attack hounds. That wasn't even to mention the fact that she wasn't paid. Well, she was paid... But that was for something different. Completely unrelated. Probably.

"Well, not without help."

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Just about to loop the bundle over her metallic foot, Ivy paused in her pursuit of dressing at those last words. A single brow attached to a faintly glowing red scar lifted, hazel eyes drifting over towards his figure. She sat back up, resting good arm on cybernetic leg, and looked at him with consideration.

"That your way of initiating round two?" a lazy smirk on her face. Ivy passed her tongue over the edge of her teeth with a chuckle and promptly tossed her pants aside before moving to stand. The distance between them covered by a stride of unhurried intent, she did not pause as she reached the bed but leaned to press him back with her mechanical hand at his chest. Ivy crawled onto the bed over top of him, lingering there for a moment to admire the pool of blond hair halo-ing his head. If nothing else, the man seemed more in his element here on the bed - it showed in those dull blue eyes.

She did not believe, however, that a woman such as herself had ever been in his menagerie of bedmates. The woman gave a light snort, derisive sneer breaking her facade, "Spoiled Sith..."

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

As a matter of fact, it was, but Tyrin was just too surprised that it had actually worked to give that question an answer. Pants were hastily discarded for a second time and before the Umbaran could blink he was on his back for the second time that evening... And straddled to boot. Normally he had to give up money for this kind of service. Clearly he must have been looking good this evening, despite having been beaten up by criminals and held captive in Coruscant's underground only mere hours ago.

"That's the trouble with us Sith..."

Oh well. He wasn't complaining.

"...We're very indulgent."

And lo, the bedding did commence once again. And there was much rejoicing.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

He would wake several hours later to the rumbling of the ship as it exited hyperspace. Bed to himself, there were few guesses as to where the Mercenary woman had gone. She'd left his clothing and belongings atop the trunk at the foot of the bed, arranged and folded neatly for the simple lack of another form to place them on. Her own armor form was bare again. Though the room was dark, the light to the fresher had been left on for his convenience.

Apparently she was thoughtful.

Not so thoughtful as to provide breakfast, unfortunately. Nobody's perfect.

Seated in the bridge on that freshly broken-in captain's chair, Ivy blinked exhaustion from her eyes. She'd not stayed in bed for very long after the festivities had ended and whether or not Tyrin had noticed wasn't something she was concerned about. Her bed had presented itself as unused and abandoned for reasons. Gloved fingers pressed at her eyes after taking in the view of their final destination. Ivy prayed to whatever of her ancestors' Gods remained that she could restock on stims here.

The blackstalker was at her feet chewing on a bantha leg-bone with a great deal of zest and slobber.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Tyrin took the time to wash his face and get back into his armor, sans helmet for now. The ordeal of getting his flowing locks to fit under the accursed thing in such a way that they didn't come loose if he happened to turn around quickly was better left undescribed for now. He returned to the bridge, exchanging customary glares with the Blackstalker. Of course he noticed she had left, he had just been too polite to say anything. Festivities, he found, could hardly be called that if the person he enjoyed them with abandoned him so shortly after the fact.

"And a good morning to you." He said. To Ivy, naturally. There would have been more choice words involved if he were talking to the Blackstalker. Balmorra loomed outside of the viewport, but that wasn't what he was looking at. Lasranae had exhaustion etched on her features. He assumed she had just decided to sleep elsewhere, but apparently not. "Not big on sleeping, are we?"

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"It's a rare commodity for me," Ivy replied without looking up, fingers reaching to punch in pass codes for atmo entry, "can't remember the last time I slept in a bed."

The floor was usually where she slept, back against a wall, rifle in her lap, armor securely sealed. Potteiger had even found her incapable of standing after spending all night on the floor of a room in some hobble on Tattooine. Her leg had fallen asleep. She didn't have that leg anymore, so this was a non-issue.

The blackspawn snarled, coiling over its meal. Ivy hissed a command at it and watched the thing peel out from beneath her feet and slink off down the hallway, back to its den.

"Right," a heavy sigh, a cursory glance to [member="Darth Adekos"], "where am I taking you?"

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

"Hmph." He looked only a little perplexed at the concept. "Well, give it the old college try next time. I could use the company."

As far as Tyrin was concerned, six to eight hours of sleep every night was one of the more important keys to success. Long reaching, unimaginably profitable success. Of course there were days when that number dwindled to, say, three. He made it a habit to limit those days as often as possible. No one ever accomplished anything worthwhile running on two hours of sleep and injecting stims to make up for it. Not in the long rung. He tried not to think about just how many hours of sleep Ivy had been on when she, say, rescued him.

It was always better to not get bogged down with such... Technicalities. "Bin Prime, Beltane International Spaceport. It's one of the larger ones; can't miss it."

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Next time.

Ivy gave the man a bare, pointed glance at those words but said nothing in return, brushing them off as something of a habitual assessment of a one indulgent Sith Emperor who was probably used to having his own way about things. The Merc wasn't about to entertain any childish fantasies here. She was a realist and her gut was presently telling her to drop the man and get the feth out of dodge, as far away from Sith space as quickly as possible.

Just being here made her skin crawl and her moral compass twitch.

Punching in the destination she set course for the spaceport, "Won't take long... might wanna strap in for re-entry, Tyrin."

The edge of a sneer could absolutely be heard in those last words.

[member="Darth Adekos"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Tyrin opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to close when he reconsidered his options. He knew better than to argue with sneering cyborgs, especially while Ysalamiri were still on this rusted boat, limiting his options for self-defense. Tyrin reckoned if he went any further he wouldn't enjoy Ivy's physical response as much as last time. The Umbaran wordlessly turned on a heel and bowed out of the cockpit, only to return a few minutes later with his helmet sealed back into place. Not a trace of his hair remained visible.

Adekos took his seat and strapped himself in, reclining ever-so-slightly. Once he was comfortable, he folded his hands over his lap and waited for touchdown.