Whether It's Damned Or If It's Good [Atretes Rhoujen]

[Luna Vega]

We all have to start somewhere.

That was what she remembered telling the con-of-a-bartender. "That was not Corellian whiskey," even though her eyes were raw, she rubbed them in circles over and over again, then groaned. A sound that rivaled the bottomless pit of acid and booze that was her stomach promised retaliation. The smell of vomit, alcohol, sex, and musk curled up her nose and Vega resisted the urge to welcome the vehemence of her body. She was at the edge of the mattress in nothing but a cheap animal hide jacket, reminents of panties, and fur-lined boots that were planted on the floor.

Everyday she awoke this way and yet, every night remained the same.

Black liqueur liner was parsimoniously smudged and streaked under pale gray eyes; ashes of last night's mascara like the tiniest confetti upon her cheeks. The mirror was set on the floor having fallen at some point and not a soul managed to tack it back on the wall. Luna stared at the far-gone, besotted image of herself and blinked a few times. "Well," unmanicured hands went through tousled beach tresses made up of at least a half dozen colors, "I've seen worse."

Without another word to herself, she managed to stand and stagger to the door if only to open it. "Breakfast," it was a hoarse, bedroom sound that came from her mouth- as uneven as the steps she had just took- but it was loud enough for the cantina cook to hear below.

"Breakfast is over. Get some pants on and get to work," answered the cook in response.

Suddenly, she had wished she would not have opened that door. Better yet, even made the effort to walk to it. "I'm'uhh callin' in sick," slamming the door, Vega had barely made it back to the bed where she crashed into it.

A small com-device flipped open in her hand, "If someone doe'nt get me off of thez frakkin' roock."

"Look, punkin', the stars are all burnt out. There ain't no way we're dropping ship to pick up yer arse in the next turn or two. No matter how sweet it is, Vega. Just sit tight..." a barrel of laughter boomed then crackled on the other end.

The knock at the door just caused her to press further into the bed.

 

[EmKay]

"Fifty credits to dock, sir." the Port Authority Supervisor said, his gaze stern. Mako had left Atretes with roughly a thousand credits to pay for his endeavours, at least until he made more money on his own, and he wasn't about to let his precious half-hundreds go to waste on just docking when he as of yet had no idea how easy or hard it was to make money in this expansive galaxy.
"Thirty." He offered. It probably wasn't wise to negotiate with the man who could just kick him back off-world, but he didn't have many credits to spare. The older man peered to Atretes' datapad. The younger man suppressed a smirk. A few years with a band of space pirates teaches you a few tricks, like how to toggle your credit balance to display a false number. Instead of a thousand, it showed no more than two hundred. It would be hard dealing, but who can really buy anything with a hundred and fifty credits?

"...Hm," the older man mused, then looked to Atretes' face. The young almost-pirate took a nervous swallow, and the Supervisor huffed. "Forty. Final offer -- take it or get out of my dock." he said with a tone of finality. Rhoujen had little choice. He plugged an empty credit chip into his datapad and transferred forty credits to it, then handed it to the dock officer. With a flourish and a grin, the man tucked the credit chip away and stepped out of the Atretes' path.

With a pseudo-appreciative nod, the Atretes walked past the Supervisor and slid his datapad into an inner chest pocket of his coat. He wouldn't have any pickpockets making off with his vital device. Once he was in the city proper, he took a casual glance around. He wondered if there would be any rumours or interesting news nearby, so he sought out a cantina, bar, pub... anyplace where people gathered and talked. After some time, the young man happened across what he was looking for. Set aside in between some upper-class hotels was a small, pretty unassuming building with a little sign that announced that it was a cantina.

He entered, and paused to the side of the door a few moments, letting his eyes adjust from daylight to the dimmer lights inside the building. Once he could see clearly, he made his way in and looked over the different seats. He noted ones that had unassuming marks scratched next to them. In his time as a crewman, he learned that some of those scratches aren't just damage, but symbols designed to denote different needs. Spice, women, the black markets, all of those could be hidden messages in the scuffs and scrapes. Atretes chose to avoid those booths and picked a table-for-one seat that didn't have any particular patterns to its damage. Just wear. As he sat, the barkeep glanced his way and went to the back somewhere.
Atretes had a pang that he might have accidentally started some kind of trouble.

 

[Luna Vega]

The smell of fried gungan wafted under the cracks of the door and in through the many blaster holes decorating its surface- or maybe it was just something her mind was recalling from many years prior. Slimy, smelly, daft were that race. Gungans. She remembered Jen building the fire now, and Blue carving up one called Onah. The idea of eating it was...revolting. The crew she was with were ex-convicts, weapon runners, mercenaries. They were sick, sick bastards.

The smell though... of burning, fishy flesh.

Her gray eyes flashed open, vision blurred. Vega no longer smelled the fish fry, only the faint aftermath of someone's orgasm and perfume was shoved up her nose. It was the pillow! Ghastly thing! She stood only to send the thing flying across the room.

Damn near blind, the lass mustered up enough will to search for a pair of pants. "Ah! Hah!" Olive in color with the knees blown out... sure. The work get-up was no where to be found and to be frank, she did not care.

"Table one is up. Get yer arse down here, or that is it. I s'ear it!"

Nothing short of, but not quiet falling down the flight of stairs- Luna just went, sometimes skipping a few for the fear of falling might arouse her conscious enough to.... "So, what'll it be, lad?" Mascara smudged under her eyes and she might look as if she would fall asleep. Was she pretty? One could not tell.

Vega the lunatic... or what her coworkers referred to her as, stared blankly at the man sitting in the only seat in the house she served.

 

[EmKay]

The cantina wasn't too odd, except for the notable lack of activity. Atretes took a cursory glance around him while he waited, and noted that there were very few patrons who had already disregarded his existence and went back to their drinks or private conversations. He gazed through the smoke at the bar, noting the collection of bottles and the deficit in fully cleaned glasses. He sighed a little at that latter sight -- at least on the Riposte he made sure everything was shined and up to snuff. He was vaguely aware of shouting in the back rooms, and he decided to space off for awhile.

"So," the voice snapped the man back into reality with a start, "what'll it be, lad?" he looked up to the source and saw a woman. He thought. He'd never seen a more miserable-looking individual in his life, and that was saying something. Part of him felt sorry for the... girl? Woman? Age was hard to determine. He kept himself together, however, and played it by ear.

"A drink, something light, preferably," he requested, before leaning forward just enough to add slight emphasis to his question, "and do you know of anything interesting going on in the area? I'm a bit lost for what to do around here, and figured, well," he shrugged, "what better place to find information than a cantina, right?" he said, trying to come off as not a bounty hunter or mercenary or pirate or... well, the list goes on. Point being, he didn't want to cause waves on a world he knew nothing about and had just arrived on. No matter what line of work you were in, that was always a bad start.

Atretes hoped that the... waitress... knew something to help him out, either first-hand or where to go to ask. If this place was a dead end, then he'd be rather disappointed.

 

[Luna Vega]

Even though she looked the part of one of those people who gave it all for a little, or a nobody that got slid under the rug, maybe she did too many lines, emptied too many bottles. Yeah, she'd done quite a few of those. Luna had tugged her fur coat closer, noting just then she had not thought of a shirt and it was the only thing offering dignity. Dignity? Hah. "I'll see what we have," she eyed the stranger wearily, fumbling for the zipper and easing it up half way as nonchalantly as possible.

What man drank light? While thumbing over a few bottles, the waitress milled over the answer. Perhaps "light" meant fine and not cheap. Because no one she knew worth a bantha's arse drank "light" and Miss Vega knew a lot of people. The ale they had in stock was mostly Wookie preferred, the liquors hard. "Sweet lady, today is your lucky day." Luna swiped the bottle of Bespin Port from the cooler and a clean wet rag from the wash bin.

The reflection of herself was noted among the many bottles she ran across. Even with her low standards it was bad, so she decided to wipe her face down. Two-day old make-up wasn't that hard to scrub off as most of it was probably smeared on the pillows and bed sheets.

"Names Luna by the way," she appeared once more, this time fresh faced and with a bottle and glass in hand. Odd question... "Well," the many-colored hair girl paused, " ta whut exac'ly ar'ya luhkin' ta do, foreigner?" The cork was popped and the white frothy mist appeared from the mouth of port. Reluctantly, she poured and the pale red liquid pooled into the long stemmed glass.

They were testing her again. Bastards had to be. She was NOT going back in that hole. Not for no one. No nark here. Unless... Luna sighed, that probably was not the case. It never was. Helping others never boded well for her, not here.

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[Lord Gaius]

*((Ignore this. I'm at Uni and someone wrote this post on my laptop while I was out of class. Please delete if possible.))

 

[EmKay]

"Rhoujen," he replied with his name, as was polite, a bit surprised that she'd cleaned up, even just slightly. It gave a little bump in his initial opinion, since up until this point she'd looked like a really bad case of horrid luck.

Up until this point, he'd watched her actions, movements, the way she tipped her head as if mocking someone. He knew these actions because he'd done the same long ago. She was dissatisfied, fed up, and at the end of her thread. Just like he was in the labs, trapped in a gilded cage of comfort and science, only to be told he couldn't leave until 'explicit ordered granted his release'.

At least, that's what it looked like.

Part of him was sympathetic and wanted to help her. The hero that floated around inside him wanted to whisk her away to the Morvak and give her a less insufferable life than what she had now. Then the realistic part of him threw the hero out the window and cynically viewed this... Luna as a ticking time bomb just like he was. Able to snap at a moment's notice and do everything and anything in her power to escape the trap she found herself in. This is what caused him worry.

Still, he had to appreciate a finer drink when he saw it, though it was hardly what he'd expected to receive.

"Do you always treat your newcoming and random patrons to what appears to be your finer drinks?" he asked, flashing a bit of a grin in the typical pirate-smuggler fashion and leaning forward in polite anticipation. Enough to be charming but not enough to be provocative, or enticing. He definitely didn't want to cross fates with this woman, at least not as he knew her now. It could be a dangerous, volatile situation and he was not going to pull that trigger if he could help it. The last thing he needed was extra baggage when he himself wasn't sure which way was up.

And still, he debated her usefulness. She cleaned up nicely, and wasn't a bad-looking woman without the layers of dried makeup, but a becoming visage didn't imply the ability to aid his... quest, as it were.

"As for what I'm looking to do," he said after picking up the now-laid-down glass and taking a small sip, "I haven't the faintest clue, lass." he grinned up at her again, then realised that could be taken the wrong way and dropped it with a subtle clear of his throat.

[member="Luna Vega"]

[OOC: [member="Hasjo Hallu"] No worries, matey.]

 

[Luna Vega]

Rhoujen fell sweet on her palate, just like a foreign cigar. As if his name reminded her, slender digits slipped into a pocket inside her jacket. "Pleasantries," scoffed the woman as she put the cigar betwixt her lips to free her hands. One snaked around a "clean" glass and the other under the bar for a light. Once lit, Vega bathed in the aroma it gave off, drawing in a toke and then let the smoke curl around her mouth. A satisfying sigh escaped her and she cradled one of many addictions between her middle and pointer fingers. "It's no like Imma resident here," employee or not, the words were bitter, "or like I planned on this life. So stoppa lookin' at me thatta way."

Smoke billowed around her glass and moved like small, ghostly waves when the port was poured. She took a plentiful sip, holding the sweet tantalizing liquor on her palate before swallowing. Luna's eyes had closed briefly. "The finest aside froom the Ambrosia. But I donna get paid fo' pullin' lads off teh floo'," she smiled prettily, "besides, you said light."

The waitress rolled her shoulders, shrugging them. "Mayhap ya shouldda be findin' that clue fahst... As luk may have it, ya found me for when ye do." A single finger worked the rim of her glass. "The others jus' assume ta meet ya, shoot ya, and loot what ya got. Me?" The contents of her glass washed down her throat with the heavy felt words that spilled a whisper. She would have been surprised if he had even heard the last bit- poison that it was, it had indeed been meant for her.

"Rhoujen," slipped sweetly off her tongue just as she'd presumed. "Me? I'm jus' loookin' ta get off..." Luna leaned against the counter, watching him with slate gray eyes, "to no particular place just as s..."

The bossman was watching her and she turned, casually blocking her customer. She couldn't out right tell him. Not here. They would kill them both. "Thez place is about is about as fun as it's gonna get," a sort of silver glaze flicked over him, "lest you specialize in somthin' othar than drinkin..."


[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

Atretes stifled a cough. Despite his time on the Riposte, he never quite got used to cigarra smoke. It just... didn't agree with him. He kept himself in check though, and made steps to ensure his demeanour retained some measure of agreeability. After all, when one is looking for information of any kind one must connect with some people for one reaosn or other. He pulled out his datapad and printed off a credit chip that should have sufficiently paid for the drink, plus a little extra, and slid it to the woman with one hand as he flicked off the datapad and slid it into his jacket with the other. With that taken care of, he sat back in his chair and gave her another look, while he took a drink and a breath from the glass he refused to linger his eyes upon for fear of realising it to not be near as clean as it should have been.

Added onto her newly slightly cleaned appearance was the subtle pseudo-sophistication of the fine drink and expensive-smelling cigarra in her hand. Overall, she had the undertones of the makings of a lovely woman. The problem was the setting and presentation that was currently displayed.

With that, Rhoujen thought to himself that he was beginning to like this one. He took another sip of his drink and eyed the woman when she started acting suspicious.

"Pray tell," he said quietly, "what's bothered?" he said. He hoped that his meaning would catch. It was something they would say back in his pirate life to discretely ask what was bothering someone. It was easier than making a scene, and often ended up with better results. He played it casual, and kept a pleasant smile, as though he were just making conversation that wasn't at all weighted.

[member="Luna Vega"]

 

[Luna Vega]

"Cap it," drawled the voice from the back. A clinking-clanging of cookware rang from just past the kitchen's swinging doors. "Get it outta sight, Luna. I don't need the customers thinking we keep a stock of it. Your personal stash stays personal, got it? Good."

Before she replied, the bartender shot the owner a cold stare and her lips thinned so that a slash of white teeth were bared. "Right on it, bossman." It was too sweet of a response and Luna bit back a bark of laughter as she topped off both glasses, then corked the bottle. "He's old, cranky..." added the woman, turning her stark stare to Rhoujen. She smiled though, the anger slowly draining from her face, leaving only the barest hints of red to pepper the apples of her cheeks.

Thin shoulders shrugged and she cautiously leaned forward, "Perhaps 'tis no the best o' places to be uhh... 'splainin that." Her bottom lip was pulled into her mouth and nibbled upon. Possibly chewed on at one point or another. He shouldn't of been here; mayhaps, she deserved this. Not him though.

As if to vocalize her thoughts, Luna's mouth opened. The kitchen doors splayed, swinging wide and she rocked back on her heels. She smiled tightly, even as she slid the bottle of port under the bar. The bald, broad shouldered owner came into view, apron tied, rag being wrung in his burly hands. He hid behind that seemingly harmless cook-visage, but she knew. He'd sooner cook you up in his stew.

Jet all but grappled her and she slid naturally, just missing his grasp. He moved to speak to her and Luna turned so that when he did the old man's back was to Rhoujen. The owner's hands blanketed her shoulders, still her petite frame. She nodded a few times, short and sweet so she did not appear a bobble head. "I had to give him something worth staying for," she spat, her voice just below a boil, though loud enough for her customer to hear. "The poodoo you order was not going to do that..."

Though, it was not for him to know she would rather have this journeyman alive. "Fine. Do what you have to, lovely Luna," Jet replied and stormed off to the kitchen once more. His pet name references nearly brought a scoff, instead she blinked and tried at an innocent smile to the patron.

"Sorry about that..." It was a voice of warning and she butted out her cigarra. One hand fell over his, just a slight brush of skin, and she swallowed nervously. "We have some things to tend to." Talk about really. Alas, she knew Jet was listening. There were not many hints she could drop, if any. "Come now," Luna crooked a finger and wiggled it. "Follow me." Please, her gray eyes begged and she swooped up her glass in the other hand.

The show must go on, at least until they were off the stage... the floor. Vega sauntered up the stairs, eyes low, pirate smile displayed. Just follow me. Come on.


[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

The comment granted a raised eyebrow, then a startled flinch when the kitchen doors blazed open with unnecessary bravado. He peered over to the man who blazed out of the back rooms with an even higher eyebrow, and when [member="Luna Vega"] went off to address the issue, the wanderer looked back to his drink and picked up the glass.

He swirled it and took a sip, while he watched the two out of the corner of his eyes. They were certainly at odds, and he couldn't help but smile knowingly as the still air hummed with their mutual frustrations. He took another sip, and heard the woman insult the apparent owner's taste in beverages. He grinned and set the cup down, and pulled out his datapad to check the time in the interim. He tucked it back away when he heard the man storm off, and looked up innocently to the female.

Upon her apology, he shook his head like it was nothing. Her hand touching his interlocked ones seemed more a plea than a flirt, and when he traced up her form to meet her gaze, his violet gaze could see the desperation. As she went off, he sighed quietly and stood. Against his better nature, or perhaps as a result of his good nature, he picked up his glass and took a final, small swallow before he stood and accompanied the vexing woman to whatever reaches of the establishment she was destined for.

 

[Luna Vega]

No, this is all for you. Don't want to hide the truth.

The top of the stairwell was dim at best, it was only the pirate's silhouette and hints of a well ravaged room just in the back ground. She stood there in waiting, head tilted back to swallow the last of the contents. He's going to hate me for this, she thought just as she reached for Rhoujen's shirt collar and drug him close with her free hand. It was all for show of course, with the heat of the enemy's gaze on her. She all but mocked Jet, even as the glass slipped from her fingers and crashed on the kitchen floor below.

To both keep the laughter from also falling and to hide Rhoujen's surprised face at her... rather provocative display, Luna pressed her lips to his, pulling him further in to the bowels of her prison. It was not until she slammed the door, pinning him, that she released his mouth. The demons danced within the shadows of her eyes and she pushed off from the wall to put distance between them. "Rhoujen," the pirate started softly, letting out a shaky breath.

The creak of wood brought her back and she stared, unblinking at him. Sounds came from her mouth- sounds that had no business making an entrance. She moaned like something feral and threw her weight against him, causing the door to shudder. "No... there... there, yes, there.... Ahhhh!!!" It was bursts of loud sighs and low moans. She battered the door with their bodies again, hoping it was enough.

Enough to appease the owner into fleeing back into the kitchen.

Heavy thuds echoed from outside the room; footfalls. Panic set in and Luna bit his neck just hard enough to elicit a sound from his mouth. She moaned again, louder and ran her nails down the door.

"Lenny. She's busy." A tumult of noise sounded and then a crash. Jet's voice offered more to come. "Not now. Later."

A sick smile over came her face, and she moaned her patron's name, "RRRHHHHOOOUUUJJJJEEEENNNN!" It was a short lived satisfaction to piss Lenny off. He deserved it.

Guilt was written all over her face and she gave a embarrassed look. "They've already taken yer ship," she moaned again, pounded the door even, but her look was sad and full of shame. "They plan onna kill'n ya." As if she knew where this was headed, she gripped his wrists and kept their bodies close.

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

Atretes had to admit, he was taken by surprise and confusion gripped him by the throat and rode him harder than, well, that much was obvious.

When he was dragged by the shirt he stumbled but went along, tiptoeing over broken glass. While the embrace of mouths and bodies was unexpected, and he was taken by surprise, he didn't exactly mind. After all, one does not simply learn habits from pirates and not gain a taste for the baser pleasures in life. He found himself falling into the motions, and perhaps became a little too enveloped into what, unknown to him at the time, was a ploy to throw off attention. By the end of [member="Luna Vega"]'s lewd display, he was warm under his skin and mildly short of breath. He heard the voices, heard the clamour and then heard them fade, and upon that moment most of the charade had fallen and the wanderer was informed of some sobering news.

His movement was halted by her feminine yet firm grasp on his wrists, to which he twisted his wrists, grabbed hers, and pushed forward so they both fell backward, onto the bed of questionable cleanliness and pinned her down, then he returned the tease by planting nibbled kisses on her neck then grinning mischievously to her, his own expression with a fire of its own.

"I'm sure I can handle myself, lass."

 

[Luna Vega]

It was her turn to, for lack of a better term, look dumbfounded. Luna found herself in a state of shock, her defense system floundering. It was on the hot sand with the water feet away; her senses had somehow washed ashore. The young woman had a look of utter abandon, even as she fell where she normally would have fought in her bed with a man she did not know. Though it was in passing, she thought madly that it had been a set up. One that would see how far her loyalties lied.

Any moment now, she imagined Jet and Lenny would come in with a roll of laughter. Enough to make a person wretch.

That time came and went, so did the shuddering of her body from the contact of his lips on her neck. It was a suffocating, painless pleasure and she succumbed for the amount of time between silence and his voice reaching her ears. "Doona start what ye can't finish, stranger," Vega sighed, heated breath inches maybe, from his mouth. But her multi-colored hair had flown across her face, to mask her expressions and sparkling gray eyes.

The realization that she had put her life on the line for this man only to gain such a response miffed her. "I couldda died, y'know, tryin' to save yer arse?" she shoved at him, but there was no real weight put in it. "An whadda I get? Manhandled!" She eyed the door then and made a loud cry of pleasure- visage showing anything but. Luna gave the wall a few hard thumps with the back of her hands. "I'm no kiddin', Rhou. They will kill ya if ya try to take 'er back."


[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

Atretes let his mischievous smile fade and he looked a bit more menacing now. It wasn't in his face, it was on his eyes. They betrayed the rage behind the mask of calm that the port and near-seduction had painted. There was no doubting that he was fuming beneath the skin.

"I appreciate the gesture, I like living." He almost whispered into [member="Luna Vega"]'s ear while his hands came to push him up slightly so she could remove him if she'd truly wanted to. He then brushed her hair fell her face and looked deep into her eyes, so she would know what lure behind the mask as he spoke, and his voice came little more than a growl that could be confused by unwanted ears as lustful.

"Let them try."

 

[Luna Vega]

The look was fearful enough and she shook her head, "No," she paused, fidgeting with her hands, picking at her pants. "I'd rather them not." Luna had seen first hand, been through it. While she could understand why and what he wanted, the pirate couldn't let him. This was not some scheme they had running this time. He was innocent, however loose the term. "I want you to stay," gray eyes peered up, not quite moving her head, but just enough to watch him from under her lashes.

Commotion below almost had her begging, "I know I doona know ya," she whispered, "but, I coul'ave. Doona make me watch you die." Vega sat up straighter, heart thudding so hard she could have swore it was loud enough for everyone to hear. The voices were closer now, and though it was slow, there was someone climbing the stairs.

Luna pulled him closer, "This has to look believable," voice lower than it had been, "it has to look real." A part of her wished it were. But not here, not under these circumstances. "Loook, ya dunna have to..." she winced, suddenly a little shy, "whip it out. Jus' ahh... undo ya breaches." However odd it may have looked or sounded, she was not going down after working this hard to keep him alive. They were both still completely clothed. It would never fly and would undoubtedly cause suspicion.

With a rather embarrassing look, Luna Vega sat up and turned on her knees, facing the wall. Just so they weren't made to look at each other while they pulled this off. She couldn't simply unbutton hers, unfortunately and so, she slid her pants down her thighs until they stopped her knees bent on the bed. "Stay until we can come up with a plan," the pirate said as she glanced over her shoulder with a quick tug up to her shirt and pressed her chest to the wall. Bottom exposed and all, praying to every god that it would work.

"Real, Rhou. It has to look real," she whispered one last time before casting a moan into the air. The door knob turned.




[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

Atretes smiled, almost sadly, to the girl he had beneath him. Something in the back of his head told her she was genuine, and could be trusted if only for now, yet he still had a nagging sense of danger and a fitful torrent of anger mingling behind his eyes. And something else, something deeper down that lie repressed and unacknowledged. He heard the voices, they mingled in the background as he focused on [member="Luna Vega"], and his cheeks reddened despite what happened moments ago. As what was going on dawned on him, he gulped and that tiny repressed spark fought for control. His nerves shook his frame and when Luna had finally exposed herself he found himself shy.

"Survive, you foolish boy." came a seething voice from the back of his mind. He wasn't sure what it was, but it made him get a move on, quickly. Rhoujen unbelted and unbuttoned his trousers and in a fluid motion was upon the maiden. His arms wrapped around her form snugly and he went through the motions, his body contorting and his breath changing to make it appear as though they had been going as long as they had been secluded. His lips hung close to her ear and in between feigned pants for breath he spoke.

"Real enough for you?" he asked with a sly grin. His body was contained by clothing, but that base need was clawing at him. He mentally blocked it, and kept mental note that it would take but three simple movements to roll off the bed with Luna in tow, draw the blaster strapped securely to his thigh, and open fire should trouble start. The crew always said he was a good shot for a novice. In the meantime, he distracted himself by thinking on a plan. A plan, a plan... he was at a loss. His prowess with the Force was negligible, and all he had to his arsenal was a generic blaster pistol and a pocket knife. The odds weren't exactly in his favour, so he hoped Luna had more than attractiveness up her pants.

 

[Luna Vega]

A sliver of light from the bar peeked in, casting shadows all about the room. "Shut the feckin' doo'!" She panted, the words lurching from her mouth. He was no in, but sure close enough to feel, Luna thought. Even though she knew it was a possibility. No, she knew good and well, it was just a matter of when. "This ain'no free show!" The door opened wider at that, lighting up half the room. Feck. Feck. Feck. She arched back, holding one of his hands with hers and pressing further into him, but exposing her chest to the intruder. Luna threw her head back, hiding his face with lush strands of purples, blues, and greens. She moaned then, seeming undeterred by the uninvited guest. "I'm kinda bu-" her eyes shot wide, voice shallow and barely there.

This was so cruel. "Jet," she hissed, struggling with a building need, " Ge' OUT!" Finally, the door slammed and she fell against the wall, cheek kissing it.

"Rhoujen?" It was a tired sound, low and not quite audible. She tugged at her shirt and turned to face him, searching the darkness to find his eyes. Tentatively, Luna touched his upper thigh, then skated the lightest flutter of fingertips across the discomfort she had created. "I'm s-," head dropping in shame, "I'm sorreh, Rhou. I dinna know what else ta do."

Obviously, she was no man, but she knew the other side to that kind of pain. Luna rubbed at her legs nervously, waiting on something, anything. The silence, she thought suddenly, was worse.

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]

 

[EmKay]

There was a certain lingering flame, and a vortex of clashing opinion. Lust met retribution met caution met many, many things. They all created a torrent in Rhoujen's eyes that churned with his vibrating muscles. His body was tensed and that spark of desire had grown until it lit a fire of its own within him. One not so easily dissuaded. Despite his attempts at distraction, the various displays of [member="Luna Vega"] rendered them moot and he all but succumbed to those desires.

Fingertips.

He winced at first, then his eyes met hers and it was done. He couldn't peel back again -- his instincts and his body wouldn't let him. He took her in his arms and laid her down again, his mouth tracing whispers along her skin while his hands got to work on both sets of clothing...
[OOC: You can start the next scene, Miss Luna]

 

[Luna Vega]

Much like the day before, Luna sat at the edge of the bed. She stared at her mussed hair, swollen lips, and sleep-starved eyes in the mirror still on the floor. It had to be just past midnight, with the moon giving the room it's only light. Given that most everything else was cast in shadows, she could barely make out Rhou's outline just behind her. The pirate moved and sighed, peering over her shoulder. There was only silence, and it ate at the air like a rabid animal of the night.

When she stood, her eyes wandered over the man in her bed and Vega covered his exposed body with the sheet. "What are we gunna do?" the working girl said to herself and wandered to one of the five windows. The only thing keeping her modesty was that it was dark and most of the town had retired to their beds. It was not that she cared... perhaps now she did? Luna concealed herself behind the sheer white drapes, only peeking through the space between the two panels to see the moon clearly.

They had to go soon. "Rhoujen," she said, picking through the clutter for clothes now. "Rhoujen, get up." Somehow in the disaster that was her room, she found a tank, her bra, and something close enough to pants that it would just have to do. "...'ey!" Luna tossed his trousers at him, but couldn't find his shirt. "Flip that mattress... quietly and gather the weapons." Some she had bought, found, but most were left behind by... customers.

Luna felt dirty all over again, and as luck would have it, she didn't have time for a shower.

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]