Trap Queen [Lily]

[Carbon]

Carratos​

​

Getting off Junction meant going anyplace else, and he did it the same way he always did. By wandering, hitching rides with people he could help out along the way. A lot of folk were willing to let you come along if you could assist in any way. Be it routine maintenance, or cooking, or something similar. Pay your way with skill bartering, and away you went. And that's how he wound up on a planet the opposite of Junction.

Junction was a backwater, tried and true. The only city, Junction City, was actually a ruin - nature was reclaiming it. No one lived there. The population was too small to support one single city in which every individual on the planet lived. So they had spread out into a myriad of farms, tiny villages and outposts and been content with that.

But this world, whose name he hadn't caught, was something a little different. It was distinctly city-like. There was a word for it, urban. It was urban. Neither Sith nor Republic laid claim to the world, not that he cared, and as he left the starport through the crowds he adjusted the way his hat settled atop his helmet. The floppy brim drew a few looks because of the Mandalorian helmet underneath, but he didn't much care to notice.

His attention was everywhere but the people around him, which caused him to knock into more than his fair share of individuals. Most kept quiet despite his small size because, again, Mandalorian.

Unlike home, this world was alive. With people. Droids. Stores. Sound. But very little nature. And it enthralled his attention in a way that could only be described as gawking. Again, he ran into someone and didn't even stop to notice. Too much metal and clanging and people and sensoryoverloadholykark

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

It had been two weeks since she was effectively abandoned by her parents, left alone to deal with the galaxy with her sister Rose. Two weeks. She'd taken over half of the business that her mother had left behind, the business of shipbuilding that is, and it was that business that brought her out to Carratos for the week. A meeting had just ended and she was walking down the center of the walkway in her designer bloodwalker boots, dark leather pants, corset, and jacket. She was, quite honestly, not paying a lick of attention to the world around her while she was caught up in thoughts about activities at home - or how to get her sister to stop rejecting every boy that came her way. So it came as a complete surprise that she was suddenly falling down with her hands flailing in front of her to the ground, hard. "Holy feth." She mumbled, her posterior striking against the ground with enough force to probably leave a mark or two. Lily was by no means a giant, let alone tall or sturdy, so it wasn't so much a surprise that she would have been knocked over by walking into someone or something as it was that when she looked up to see who knocked her over she saw a helmet-covered face with some sort of a large hat over the top of. She didn't quite know what to make of it, she'd never seen Mandalorians before, nor did she really know what they looked like or practically anything else about them, so to her this was likely as surprising as it got.

But also as frustrating.

Spoiled, self-centered, impatient - all of these traits were shared between the Kuhn twins. Practically everyone the two had came in contact with could agree on at least one thing: The seventeen year old girls were the bitchiest twins on this side of the galaxy. "Watch where you're going!" She snapped, completely ignoring the fact that she'd probably been as fault just as much as he had been. Her hands were brought to each side of her, resting palm-down and flat against the ground, as she gave the stranger a scornful glare. For a moment she rocked slightly back and forth, two or so time, and then pushed up with her hands to bring her back to her feet, dusting off her rear as though she had fallen into a pile of dirt or sand. "These are designer pants, do you have any idea how expensive these are?" Lily grumbled, feeling the familiar ridges on the seat of her pants that were tell-tale signs that she had left scratch marks on them from her fall.

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

He hadn't planned on watching anything other than the skyline until he heard a voice yelling. Whether directed at him or not, loud voices always drew his attention. They were great for things like giving warning, or just catching someone who was swiftly getting out of earshot. It hadn't been used, in his life, to tell him he was doing something wrong. At least not since he was a boy.

And so it took him a moment to process that the woman being whiny was being whiny at him.

Hat flopping around with the movement of him turning his head, the short young Mandalorian with the athletic build stopped. The visor settled on her, seemingly uncaring of her plight. Until he spoke, however. "Apologies." The figure drawls, voice youthful despite the distortion of his helmet and carrying with it all the accent so thick with the Mandalorians. Although how familiar she was with that particular dialect he couldn't know.

"What are... 'designer pants?'" The figure asks, offering her a hand the same instant she pushed herself up. He retracted it, knowing that just holding it out like that wouldn't make any sense. Now that she had pushed herself up, though, he could get a good look at her.

Her hair was a brilliant red, the color of the sky at sunset. And he might have been enthralled by it if he hadn't continued to be confused by what designer pants were. Were they pants worn by designers?

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

For once, perhaps, Lily found herself at a loss for words. It wasn't quite that the stanger standing in front of her was wearing a helmet under a hat - who does that!? - but more-so the fact that he didn't have a clue as to what common terms in haute couture were. Certainly she was not out of the norm for purchasing close ranging in the hundreds of credits just because they looked appealing and felt better? She shook her head slightly in disbelief and blinked several times. For a moment she wondered if this was some sort of joke, she'd often heard similar jibes from her contemporaries on Teta that were jealous of her wealth and fortune, but the genuine confusion in his voice was unmistakable - he clearly didn't understand what she was saying at all. "T-they're clothing made by famous designers, like V. Vivero, they cost upwards a couple hundred credits." She stammered, still staring in bewilderment. She brought her hands up to her neckline, the back of her fingers to her throat, and gestured at the collared jacket that covered the top half of her corset. "Clothes like these are made of expensive materials and the people who make them spend days or even months designing the look and feel of them. It's haute couture, high fashion. You know what fashion is, right?" Lily rambled on, running her hands down from her collar bones to her hips, as if outlining her clothing and highlighting what they were.

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

The Mandalorian blinked, gloved hand reaching up to pull the hat from his head. The idea of spending so much money on clothes that simply felt better was entirely alien to him. As if in further confusion, he adjusted the battered duster hanging around his thin shoulders.

Visible beneath it, not unlike the corset under her jacket, were clothes that had seen better days. Their colors were gone, but they were still relatively clean. Cared for, but far from new and never expensive. "Why?" He asks.

He was still confused.

Why spend months designing clothes?
Why spend hundreds of credits on said clothes?
Why pay so much more for something you could get cheaper and just as good?

His clothes clearly would last longer and had. "Are they bored?" The clash of worlds and cultures was real right now, and it was a testament to his confusion that his teenage male brain didn't even register her showing off the corset.

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

Perhaps for the second time in her life, in one single day, she found herself speechless, her mouth opening and closing in disbelief. Her eyes widened, brows raised, and then her face contorted into skepticism. A million answers, a trillion questions, she saw the pattern this was going in - not that she would be smart and change the subject - but pressed on regardless. "Well, uhm, people pay them hundreds of credits, sometimes even thousands, for their ideas to produce the clothing from those original designs. It's an industry, for people like myself to peruse." She explained, though not quite certain he was understanding - at least in the specific sense - what she was saying. "People like myself, whom own businesses and keep our hands clean of the grime of toiling away in mines, fields, or factories. I spend most of my time going to meetings, reading, or filling out paperwork - I'm not going to be buying clothes that make those tasks uncomfortable. Besides, I'd prefer I look good while doing it." Lily added. It was rather strange to find someone so completely out of touch with society, especially for someone bearing the last name "Kuhn" - one which was practically synonymous with the corporate elite following her father's success with Titan.

"Have you ever tried to wear comfortable clothing before? I mean, I guess what you are wearing might feel comfortable as far as the type of stuff you're wearing goes, but have you ever actually had a tailored suit or fitted pants?" The teen asked, her question sounded rhetorical and she wasn't quite certain if she wanted an answer or not either, it sounded like it was going to end with a 'no' either way by his reactions to practically everything she said. "Casual, business, even sleepwear, there's clothing for every occasion made of the finest materials that never itch, never chafe, and they don't feel too tight or too loose either. You'll find yourself sleeping better, standing with better posture, and best of all - you'll look great doing it." She rambled on, completely forgetting she had been bumped into in the first place at this point. Give an inch and she'd take a mile - that's one expression her sister made whenever someone set off 'the motormouth'. She probably wasn't going to stop talking either. But at least she wasn't angry, right?

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

The boy listened with rapt attention, clearly interested in what she had to say. It was evident in the faint way he leaned in, and the subtle nods of his head as she spoke. When someone spoke about something they were passionate about, even if you didn't care or understand, you listened.

It was important to them, and even just picking up a handful of things meant you had learned something new.

He did have a lightbulb moment though. "Oh. I think I get it." There was a nod of his head. "Since your clothes don't need to worry about grime or tears or getting caught on a bolt or something, you make it out of lighter material."

There was a nod. "People get rich off of you being rich." That makes absolutely perfect sense. Nothing about that was off putting. That was a market, really. You made money off of other people having money. If you could convince them it was infinitely better than something else, you could charge them more.

Thus, you too could afford expensive things. Brilliant. Pulling at his clothes, he gave a soft smile under his helmet. "These are comfortable. They're worn in. Fit like a glove."

He couldn't help but blink though. "No one on Junction wears suits, and aren't all pants fitted." They made most of their pants by hand, so that made sense to him. Make them for people based on their exact size. Who knew what a tailored suit was.

But it was her last sentence that brought the confusion back. "What if you're the sort who looks great no matter what you wear?" It was a really backwards way of complimenting her, but in his mind the question made sense.

She didn't look like she needed expensive clothes to look good, so then what was the purpose? Look good to yourself? That would make sense.

Yes, this was all making sense.

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

As the Mandalorian country bumpkin went down a list of revelations that coincided with their discussion, or at least her explanations, she nodded after each thing he said, thought she was surprised to find that there were people in the backwater worlds that actually kept their clothing skin-tight and form-fitting. Perhaps in regards to that she had a little more respect for their culture, whatever their culture was that is. But as he continued he brought up yet another question that would have made her sigh if she hadn't heard the tail end of the question almost as though her ears had honed in on the words and amplified the volume of his remark. She immediately felt her face flush and her cheeks quickly began to blush ten shades of red, or more aptly pink due to the color of her skin, as she struggled to think of an appropriate response to his inquiry. "W-well perhaps those sort of p-people don't realize it, or t-think they need it?" Lily stammered, biting down on her lower lip and arched her eyebrows questioningly. She wasn't sure if he bought her response - she wasn't sure if she did, either - and had even been so unsure as to more ask her statement than state it.

She took a moment to size up the mandalorian and judge him by his appearance - in the best possible way, that is. She frowned. He wore clothes, that much was obvious, but also various other things that were completely unnecessary and obscured her view of him, keeping her from properly assessing him. "Why are you wearing a helmet? Is there armor under all that, too? Kind of cute, if I were the type to like the rugged guys but..." She asked, quickly going off on a tangent before clearing her throat to return her thoughts to the present. "Wouldn't you rather show off the muscle under there and play up your strengths? That's why I buy these clothes, they minimize the bad and maximize the good." The teen continued, lips moving a mile a minute. "You could probably look rather yummy if you wore just the right kind of clothes, maybe something silk." Lily added.

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

It was as though a days worth of sun had suddenly made itself known upon her cheeks, so startling was the transformation from pale to pink. In a way, perhaps, it suited her. Young women blushing always made the embarrassment seem so attractive.

One corner of his lips quirked under his helmet, hand brushing off the brim of his hat from where he held it low in his hand. Tapping his helmet, he gave an amused chuckle. "Mandalorian." A culture he didn't much enjoy but one he was a part of.

"Mm, what makes you say silk." He asks. That material would degrade under a light wind, so he wasn't overly attached to the idea of returning home with it. If he returned home that is. Likely he would. "No armor, though. Most of our wildlife will outrun anything in armor, so it's easier to stay light." That brought a slow nod of his head.

Armor would make sense if your enemy was using a blaster rifle or a slugthrower. But anything with claws that preyed on people in armor meant said armor was going to do absolutely zero good. Or, at least, that's how he saw it. The boy shrugged a bit. "Never put much stock into my appearance, so I wouldn't know if I was appropriately muscled or not."

He was, at best, lean. His was the physique of a swimmer rather than, say, a wrestler. "I think we can agree on that, though. I wear this to minimize the bad and maximize the good. My bad are things like sandstorms, and the good is durability to survive it.

You, it seems, want the good to be accentuating your curves, or drawing out your pale skin and strikingly red hair. The bad would be the opposite. We go for opposite functions but the principle seems to be the same."

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

She smiled. Without meaning to, of course, she wanted to frown at his stubbornness. He had a way with words, certainly - like a small child that didn't know what to keep inside and what to say. Curves, strikingly, the kind of words she'd heard so many times in private with boys her age fawning over her under a starry sky, not quite so with those who encountered her on a busy day. Internally she realized she was late to her meeting but decided against ending this little introduction. Some time passed and she realized she was staring, dozing off almost. "Perhaps I do wear clothes to frame my.. curves.. but they aren't just there to make me look good - that's just the deciding factor, what looks best. This material is glistaweb and shell spider silk, you won't be piercing one of these with a blaster." Lily quipped, coughing lightly before gesturing to the sleeve that came down her left arm from under the corset. Of course he was probably sizing up her chosen clothing based on more mundane materials, such as claws or teeth. Yarva was correct, of course; she was most certainly not interested in the least in being cornered by some sort of creature, so it was only logical that she would choose comfort over 'practicality', though even how practical it was varied on who would be wearing it.

Not that she felt a corset would ever look flattering on the boy.

"Maybe I can show you a thing or two, some quality leather or fabric that would keep you safe and comfortable while keeping you looking good." She added, moving quickly with her hands to fish a small device, a datapad, from the contents of the small purse that was kept fastened to her side. "Do you have one of these; a datapad?" The red-head asked, though her question was apparently rhetorical as she held out her small right hand with the device in hand for the Mandalorian to take. "I've got my spare, at home, synced up with this. I have a closed networking suite on all of my devices, and some of my friends, so you can just change the name on the pad - er, I'll do that for you - and then get in contact with me whenever." She explained, smiling sweetly as she fumbled with the datapad and changed the name that immediately was displayed in bright pink upon starting up, Lily Kuhn, to, well, she paused immediately as she realized that she'd effectively done the equivalent of giving a boy her number without so much as introducing herself, or getting his name. "I'm sorry, I just realize I never got your name!" The teen exclaimed. "I'm Lily, Lily Kuhn, and you are? I kind of need something to type into the device name, too, so your name would be really helpful!" Lily rambled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed as she pleaded for his name, though her cheeks still flushed red as they tended to.

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

To him it wasn't even about compliments. It was just stating a fact. He realized that part of the curvature was the corset, and since the most apt word was 'curve' that's what he used. Though it didn't occur to him she'd take it as a dry, bland attempt at flirtation. But once she said 'won't penetrate with a blaster' his eyes lit up with the promise of impending knowledge on how to avoid being shot.

Repeatedly.

By some arsehole in a watchtower with a blaster rifle.

His lips parted below the helmet, which he reached up to remove carefully, tucking it under the arm with the hat. Bright violet eyes looked down to the datapad she offered before she, of course, retracted it in order to fumble at putting a name into it. "Yarva Adisu." He informs politely, voice low so other people around wouldn't here. It sounded so... foreign compared to 'Lily Kuhn.'

It almost embarrassed him, but nowhere near as much as she seemed to be embarrassed. Her cheeks seemed to perpetually be the same shade of red as her hair. But, even as they stumbled their way through a conversation neither expected to have, he found himself almost amused by their sheer inability to communicate without fumbling words, or blushing, or otherwise acting like two people who had no idea how to interact with each other.

[member="Lily Kirsche Kuhn"]