HospitalityThat dancer isn't bad, Alema thought, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. She wondered idly if they paid the human girl to work here or if they just owned her. Alema's tattooed eyebrows drew together in a frown.
Can't get them all, and maybe it isn't so bad. There are likely worse places. It was an optimistic sentiment, and one that even Alema herself didn't place much faith in. She stared down into her glass when the spark of an opened glitterstim vial caught her gaze.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. It wasn't hard to understand why her employers favored meeting in these places, and Alema understood the degree of protection they offered. She usually only stayed as long as she needed to in order to collect her pay or an assignment.
The pay had been good this time, and Alema privately referred to the bonus as "hazard pay." Transporting live animals she could handle but something about birds would never cease to try her patience. The lanky blue creature with its awkward proboscis and yellow eyes had marked it as a panna blue bird, but certainly were not the only bizarre traits it had brought to her ship.
Damn thing ate all my munch fungus, she recalled, silently cursing the animal. She'd nearly shot it right then and there, but relented when she remembered how much she was being paid to ferry the idiot animal to Tatooine. After collecting her pay there was nothing left to do but finish her drink and move on.
She heard a footstep behind her and the sickly sweet smell of a drunk's breath was joined by an arm tossed over her shoulder. She winced as one of her lekku was caught under the stranger's elbow.
"Hey, hon. You should be up there," he said. She turned slowly to look into the unshaven grinning face of a lonely down-on-his-luck smuggler. He jerked one thumb toward the stage. "I betcher great."
Alema took a deep breath. "Any talents of mine are none of your business," she answered. "Please give me some space."
"Space?" he asked. "That's not your call to make, is it? Tell me how much your master paid for you and I'll match it. Is he here?" His hand slipped from her shoulder down under her arm, and he rested his palm in the curve of her waist.
Alema closed her eyes and her jaw tightened as she struggled to keep her temper. No reason to make a scene. The man was annoying but clumsy, and the longer she let him talk the deeper he would dig his own grave. On the other hand... "Listen," she said, her glossy green lips curving in a smile. "How about you just... sit down... have a drink on me... and we'll see if we can't arrange something."
"A drink, huh? Well, you're paying." With a satisfied grunt he removed his arm and took a seat next to her. Free drink from a pretty woman was a start, at the very least.
"Well," she told him, sliding closer to him on her bar stool. "On my home planet, it's customary to greet a gracious host with a gift..." Her gaze met his and held there. "...to show our gratitude for hospitality."
Patience, she cautioned herself.
He made a few confused vowel noises. She meant what he thought she did, right?
"...so," she continued. "Why don't you let me show you something?"
That's when he started to get paranoid. This woman was way out of his league and was being entirely too receptive. The bartender set down a beer in front of him and for the moment the presence of free alcohol trumped any concerns he might have had. When he reached for it, she curled her fingers under the rim of the wide bracelet she wore on one arm. She pressed two buttons she found there and activated it.
He glanced over to see what she was up to, and she flashed him a reassuring smile, placing her fingertips on his upper arm. "I haven't gone anywhere," she reminded him. Shaking her bracelet down to rest on the back of her hand, she laid her palm on his thigh.
For a moment it felt good, and his face registered it. He wasn't sure what she was doing but, within seconds the grin faded and his expression went slack. She watched his eyes roll back before he slammed into the floor behind her, hitting the leg of her barstool and nearly bringing her down with him.
She was on her feet in an instant, and she pressed her hand to his back again. The muscles in his body tensed and relaxed seemingly at random, and she yanked him over onto his side so that he wouldn't swallow his tongue. The bartender cast an irritated and disapproving glance down at her. With a sigh, she grabbed her new friend under the arms and dragged him outside, dropping him just outside the door.
She deactivated her bracelet, walked back in, took a deep breath, and found her way back to her seat.
"Handled that quickly," the bartender remarked.
"I don't know what you mean," she said flatly, her voice bored and distant. "I had no idea what was going on and was quite terrified for him. Perhaps a doctor will wander by and find him in the gutter."
Is my master here. The frotz is wrong with people?
The bartender shook his head with a smirk and pulled a glass from under the bar. He wiped it carefully with his towel. "You still owe me for his drink."
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(5/29/07 9:01 pm) Reply
Hospitality"Put it on my tab, 'tender."
The grumbling voice was all too recognizable in this particular tavern - in fact, any tavern within a thousand klicks. The Yuuzhan Vong warlord, a being who was taking the Bounty Hunter's Guild and a large portion of the Underworld over by storm, walked in - followed by his dreadful entourage.
Artemis sat on a stool beside the woman, eyeing her as any man would - in a fashion that would make the woman want to bring the bracelet to him as well. Artemis's claws clicked on the wooden frame of the bar as he awaited the bartender's reaction to his entrance - the man was stunned. It wasn't often he had to serve Dread Lords. This drew a cocky grin from Artemis, another demeanor that would likely annoy a woman whom had just gone through an ordeal with the worst of men. The Yuuzhan Vong, quite larger than the woman, drew in breath quickly as if he were to talk.
And did not. Instead, he stood up from the stool, looking about the bar. Then back to the girl. This was undoubtedly causing attention, as anyone's anyone would be staring at the sole Yuuzhan Vong on the planet. Artemis quickly put on another sheepish grin, looking down to the woman.
"I would like to introduce myself. Artemis Obauldi, infamous warlord of the Druk'tari Clans, sole representative of the Outer Rim Banking Collective, and soon to be crimelord of the famed Cabal. I would have your name, miss, if you do not mind."
Crimson eyes shot at her from underneath the cowl of his cloak, hiding his tattooed face.
Hospitality
From the moment a strange man had made his friendly offer to the bartender, Alema knew something was wrong. When she turned to find him settling in next to her, she felt his eyes on her like ants on her skin. She turned away from him to face the bar, ignoring his generosity for the moment. Her right lek twitched in disgust and she pulled it over in front of her shoulder somewhat defensively.
When he stood again, this time he had her attention. He had a notable size advantage and something made Alema doubt that she could take care of him as easily as the other. Obauldi was cocky enough, that was certain. It was a familiar advantage and not the most interesting, but it seemed to be the only one Alema had. Grinning down at her, he spoke again.
The ice shifted in Alema's glass in the silence after Obauldi's introduction. The delicate clink of the ice rang out startlingly loudly into air that had, seconds ago, been filled with the casual arrogance of the famously sinister self-assured warlord.
He'd been standing next to her. Offered to pay part of her bill. Seemed nice and friendly-like. These were all things that made her very nervous.
With a deep breath she slowly turned her eyes over... and up... to find his gaze. "Quite an introduction, Mister Obauldi. My full name is Alem'anilim, but Vashna Alema is enough."
She didn't have much faith in her ability to corner him into addressing her with the honorific vashna, roughly equivalent to Miss Alema, but the alternative was to have a total stranger using her first name as yet another chummy attempt to intimidate her. Then again, it was entirely possible he didn't speak Twi'leki and wouldn't know the difference anyway.
Alema's voice was chilly and polite as she spoke, covering her distaste for the man's presence. "What brings an esteemed gentleman such as yourself to my stretch of the bar?"
What do you want, you chi'kan dirtbag, she thought. Spit it out.Edited by: Alema Nilim at: 5/29/07 11:10 pm
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(5/31/07 1:22 am) Reply
Re: Hospitality
Artemis was current phased out, completely inattentive to the Twi'lek.
He heard a buzzing in his ear that prevented him from further shaking his head on rhythm to the music. Brilliant violet eyes flashed at the girl, suddenly realizing he had been in the middle of a conversation.
"Oh, hi, er, greetings."
Obviously he had the attention span of a three year old. He literally had JUST introduced himself.
"Look, the VIP rooms are much more extravagant. Care to join me?"
Obauldi's entourage began to migrate towards the VIP rooms in the back, obviously having done this before.
Re: Hospitality...the hell is wrong with this man? She thought, momentarily stunned by his total inability to focus on his environment. Is this an act or is he really that scatterbrained?
There was the definite possibility that it was an act, and in that case the last thing she wanted to do was wander off with him surrounded by his cronies. On the other hand...
No. No great and terrible warlord was so addlebrained that he'd start a conversation with how fantastically-important he is only to forget he'd been having it at all. It just... it didn't parse.
Either way, Alema had no intention of wandering off alone into the back of a seedy bar with a self-proclaimed infamous warlord and his cadre of allies. At least, not until she had some idea of what the man wanted. Her caution might lose her money, but if he pulled something she'd have no one to blame but herself.
"I hear they're fantastic," she answered. "Is there any particular reason you're so keen on sharing them? If it's just company you're after... in all fairness I should let you know you'll have better luck with someone else."
The question still lingered in her mind, though. What was his deal? Either she was just being paranoid and the man was crazy, or he was putting on an act and hoping she'd buy it and let down her guard. Alema generally felt fairly confident of her ability to appraise others but this... this was just bizarre.
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(5/31/07 10:20 am) Reply
Re: Hospitality
Hot breath escaped his tattooed, scarred lips as the Yuuzhan Vong uttered a long sigh. No matter how complicated a woman could be, they were all the same. None of them initially had the willpower to overwhelm a startling conversation as the one that Artemis had proposed, despite the fact that they thought they did. Obauldi leapt up from the chair, smiling to the girl.
"I'm heading to the lounge. You're free to join me, or you can rot with the rest of the scum here. I'm sure your bracelet will claim many more victims before you yourself are claimed."
The Yuuzhan Vong was opposed a bit by her remark about his wanting company. Artemis Obauldi knew the game he was playing - he'd done it several times before. Never before had he been accused of "seeking company", however. It was a bit ironical, had he spent more time to dwell on it - for now, however, he was busy thinking of other things. Such as whether the Underworld was a suitable place for this woman.
Not caring to respond to whether he was keen on sharing the VIP lounge, nor answering whether he wanted company (it didn't matter - the sole fact was that the Yuuzhan Vong was often repulsed by the behavior of many humans). The Warlord was a busy man, and dwelled on matters of importance.
Whether or not he came across as a loon was for others to judge.
Artemis turned around, heading for the lounge area in the back, puffs of smoke emanating from the area that was sealed off by a long, wide crimson curtain.
Re: Hospitality"I'm heading to the lounge, he'd said. "You're free to join me, or you can rot with the rest of the scum here. I'm sure your bracelet will claim many more victims before you yourself are claimed."
"Hn," she scoffed quietly to herself when he turned his back. S'where you're wrong, she thought. Been claimed plenty of times already. Just not by anyone here. That's how it would stay, too. At least if Alema had anything to say about it.
She couldn't imagine what kind of woman he was used to dealing with, but they were plainly a good deal more trusting and naive than Alema was. At the very least, they'd never been claimed as property by men who'd become blinded by their own egos. Men just like this one, as far as Alema could tell.
It didn't matter. She refused to presume on his goodwill and kindness. She was no one's responsibility but her own, and she couldn't depend on anyone else to look out for her. Certainly not if she went out of her way to put herself in impossible situations she wouldn't be able to extract herself from later.
So she let him go. Let him sit in his VIP lounge and bask in the glow of his reputation. Alema tipped her glass back, finishing it off. She frequented these places out of necessity, but at heart she was conservative about her own safety. She didn't owe these people anything, and her safety was more important than any job they needed done. At least until she found her way out of this pissy mood she was stuck in. It had just been one thing after another today, and something good needed to happen before she lost her mind.
Paying for her drink and covering the drink Obauldi had offered to pay for, she turned on her heel and headed out. A quick glance at the pavement told her that the man she'd dragged outside hadn't gotten far. His eyes were half-open and there was a trail of spit and blood from the corner of his mouth down to the pavement under his cheek.
Looked like he might have bitten his tongue, but it shouldn't be anything permanent. It would be another few minutes before he got himself up off the pavement, and even then it was highly likely he wouldn't remember how he got there. Writing him off as irrelevant, Alema decided to see what the rest of the city had to offer before she gave up on the day entirely. Maybe something interesting was going on elsewhere that didn't punch her usual paranoia into high gear.
(OOC: Since it wouldn't be IC for Alema to go with Obauldi, his player suggested I try and find another trainer. If anyone is available, I'd be really grateful if they found time to drop by.)
Re: Hospitality
Dusty. Dry. Utterly devoid of anything interesting beside violence and disgust. Yes, the streets of Tatooine had changed little since Saede had been a child here. Even to the point of drunkards in essentially the same position outside of Wuher's, tossed out either by another patron or the bartender himself.
Saede shook her head slightly, sidestepping the man who was just now coming to outside of the cantina. She paid little attention, the sight common enough. If she'd known that this wasn't your average drunkard.... no, she probably still would have carried on without too much thought. Tatooine being the hive of crime and muk that it was, it didn't usually pay to stick out your neck when it didn't involve you. ANd local drunks didn't interest Saede at all.
The six foot tall First Mate of the Crimson Ferret's Revenge moved through the street, generally either ignored or skirted. The small city knew by now that this was a woman unlikely to take nonsense from other people, and rumors had circulated, probably perpetrated by her crew, she knew, about just how hazardous to your health she really could be. Saede was honestly slow to anger but quick to act. She seldom used more force than was strictly necessary, but when it was necessary, there was nothing pretty about what she did. A brawler by nature and skill, she only carried a blaster on her hip to discourage people who didn't know her reputation.
Sharp hazel eyes flitted about the dusty street. It was just an hour before midday, when the twin suns would be beating down mercilessly on the streets of Mos Eisley. Most of the denizens of the city had started to pack up and head indoors for the worst of the heat, except for a handful of jawas currently picking over a junk pile in an alley. The street would be bustling again in a few hours, but the more heat sensitive residents were definately making tracks.
Which is why the sight of three beings coming *out* of a shaded ally and falling into step several meters behind a female Twi'lek that Saede didn't recognize as being from this area. THey followed behind her, still at a distance, but slowly, ever so slowly, closing the gap. The pirate didn't pause, but continued her trek in that same direction. Her steps weren't so haphazard now however. Yes, sticking your neck out often resulted in it getting chopped off in a particularly nasty manner.... but letting random acts of violence occur around her was bad for buisness too....
((ooc: Hope you don't mind me stepping in and adding some action. If so, just tell me to bugger off ))
Re: Hospitality
(OOC: Don't mind in the least! I'm glad you did! I get to indulge my love of beating the crap out of my characters.)
Alema felt the sweat beginning to stand out on her skin as she left behind the shade of the cantina. Squinting her eyes, she looked up to the sky. Maybe this was what was wrong with everyone here. Whole damn planet was brightsick from the suns frying their brains day in and day out.
Blinking a few times, she looked back to her path and continued down the street, turning a corner and setting her feet on the more familiar path back to her ship. Nothing good was going to happen today. These things happened, though. That was the problem with the tramper lifestyle. Stuck on the whims of the employment gods, sadistic and fickle as they were.
After another block, she heard footsteps behind her, out of step with hers.
Oh, blast it all. Not now.
She reached casually to her bracelets, adjusting them and surreptitiously activating the one that served as her concealed melee weapon. She had enough time to lay her hand on her blaster before she heard a boot shifting in the dirt behind her and a stranger's forearm slammed her back into the wall of a nearby building.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs and she could feel the crumbling wall pressing into her skin. Reflexively her hand reached up to rest itself against the man's back. A grin spread across his face as the initial effects of the weapon took hold. A sourceless pleasure and gratification coursed through his body and he pressed closer to her. He reached down and started to pry her hand off of her blaster.
Come on come on come on hurry up, she thought.
The euphoric smile gave way to a blank stare as he suffered the same effect that the man in the cantina had. His body stiffened and one of his friends shoved him out of the way to grab Alema before she could escape. She only managed one or two paces before he grabbed her by the arm and one of her lekku.
"AGH!" Agony shot down through her body as he yanked on it. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she struggled to stay standing long enough to grab her blaster. As soon as she drew it the other man dealt her a hard blow across the face, staggering her back again.
They were saying something, she couldn't quite make out what. Taunting, threatening, whatever. It didn't matter. She would either get away from them or she'd die trying. There was no acceptable compromise.
Turning her blaster down, she shot past her thigh into the leg of the man who'd been holding her. Alema winced as the beam seared past her own skin as well. His grip loosened and she wrenched away from him, keeping her blaster trained on the man who'd hit her, panting in desperation and from the heat. Alema had no guarantee that they were close enough allies that threatening one would stop the other, but she had no other options.
Edited by: Alema Nilim at: 6/1/07 3:26 pm
Re: Hospitality
It ended up not mattering if they were close enough allies or not. Being so intent on the woman in front of them, they didn't see the one coming up behind them. Saede reached out, tapping the man being held at blaster point on the shoulder lightly. He grunted, keeping an eye on his intended quarry, but when he got no response, turned his head ever so slightly to see what someone wanted right....
*POW*
Saede hauled back, the boxer slicing through the air with a fist to connect solidly with the man's jaw. He grunted again, then his eyes rolled back and he slipped to the ground unconscious. She didn't look at the Twi'lek yet, but sharp hazel eyes caught the gaze of the man who'd been shot in the leg a moment ago. The dawning look of 'oh bugger' that moved across his face was priceless as he looked from his fallen companions to the two women, obviously recognizing Saede.
"Hey now, didn't know she was parta yer crew, Ms. Taggart," he said, voice stammering for a moment as he backed away. "Dun want no trouble."
Re: Hospitality
The situation abruptly went from distressing to confusing. Alema was surrounded by strangers who had very recently begun to beat the hell out of each other. When her target fell Alema's blaster turned on her other assailant. What she saw was still more perplexing.
Very suddenly he looked as uncomfortable as Alema did. She kept her blaster in his direction, but her eyes followed his gaze over to the woman who'd clocked his friend.
Taggart? she echoed mentally. Wait, Taggart?!
There was a very brief temptation to train her blaster on the most dangerous individual here, Saede. Alema still didn't know what she wanted but, if nothing else, if this guy was going to assume they were on decent terms Alema had no reason just yet to dissuade him. It was also a possibility that this woman was lending her a hand and was, for the moment, the most immediate ally Alema had.
For the moment Alema said nothing, her gaze flicking from Saede to the thug who was rapidly backing away. His retreat faltered as he remembered something. He lifted his hands and nodded toward his buddy on the ground. Slowly approaching his fallen ally, he picked him up by one limp arm with a muttered, "If I may, ma'am," and dragged him off to safety.
When her last remaining enemy turned his back to cut his losses and limp a retreat, Alema lowered her blaster. She kept it readied in one hand, but had the decency not to level it on the woman who had just gone out of her way to help her. She still didn't know what Saede wanted, but Alema was a believer in courtesy and whether Saede had assisted her for altruism's sake, she still deserved to be thanked.
"I wouldn't have expected you to do that. But it's appreciated."
Re: Hospitality
Saede shrugged, her eyes trained for a moment longer on the corner behind which the riff raff had disappeared. Those sharp hazel eyes moved to Alema though when she was finished speaking.
"People don't expect a lot from anyone around here... and usually they're right. But I know those punks, and there are a couple things I can't abide by..." Her eyes moved back to where the men had disappeared. Though the gang weren't slavers themselves, not specifically, they weren't above snatching someone off the street and selling them to slavers. Same thing in Saede's mind. Though she managed not to, it had only been in the last few months that she'd had the control to not reach up and rub the dark scar around her neck from the slave collar.
"They're getting bold," she muttered, then glanced back at Alema. "I'm sure you caught it, but the name's Taggart. Saede Taggart."
Re: Hospitality
Now that Alema had a moment to take a more careful look at Saede, she took the opportunity. Certainly a great deal taller than she herself was, and she'd already witnessed what was apparently this woman's specialty. Closer inspection revealed why a woman like Saede had learned to defend herself so effectively.
Alema had known other slaves whose masters had forced them to wear collars, but only the most sadistic and power-hungry of masters had ever chosen collars with shock panels. It was the only thing Alema could imagine that would leave a scar like that.
No wonder she wasn't willing to watch a repeat performance, Alema thought. No reason to mention it, though. If Alema didn't generally talk to strangers about her own servitude, she couldn't really expect that Saede would want to, either.
"Alem'anilim. Friends call me Alema."
She felt like she should say something else, make sure Saede understood their common ground and that her compassion had been appreciated by a woman who was long since tired of being bought and sold. But then, Alema was a twi'lek. Twi'leks so seldom found their way off Ryloth without slavers that it was probably safe to assume that Saede already knew.
Alema was terrible with small talk. She'd been wandering around by herself for so long that she'd gotten out of the habit. She shouldn't just let Saede walk off, though. "Look, um. If you're not busy...y'know. Beating the hell out of people... I at least owe you lunch. Anyplace good around here?"
Re: Hospitality
"I don't go around beating the hel out of people, as you so eloquently put it, nearly as often as people say I do," she grinned then, a full smile even if lopsided.
"I'm never one to pass up a free lunch, even if you don't owe me a thing." Her smile widened. "Beside, the whole point is that I don't go around beating people up nearly as often as they probably deserve it. Good practice, even if it was a crummy work out. Come on, there's a place down the road called the Dusty Dewback.... I wouldn't say it's anywhere 'good,' but the food probably won't kill you."
Re: Hospitality
"Hm," Alema nodded in satisfaction. "Well, I guess that's a good thing. I don't need to kill myself on my lunch. I have enough people around here to do that for me." She took a deep breath and nodded decisively one more time. "Sounds good to me."
Heading over to the Dusty Dewback on Saede's recommendation, Alema tried to run through her memories of halfway-decent Tatooine cuisine. In the end she decided not to worry about it, since there were fairly good odds that nothing they served would be as odd or potentially dangerous than the food that she occasionally cooked for herself.
I need to start cooking again, she mused. Just sucks to go to all the trouble when it's just me.
When they were inside, the two women were seated in a respectable location near a broad, thick window. From their waiter's face, Alema assumed this was another trick of Saede's reputation. Well fine. Let him assume that good service is the key to keeping his skeleton in one piece.
Unwilling to indulge in any of the myriad alcoholic beverages available, Alema just ordered herself a blue milk to sip while she waited for the cook to finish whatever unspeakable horrific ritual he used to create some facsimile of jerked dewback meat. She didn't have much faith that it'd be mind-blowingly life-changingly fabulous, but meat was meat and meat was good.
Looking up at Saede as she tipped back her glass of blue milk, Alema wondered what she was supposed to talk to this woman about. She'd found it a poor policy to ask potential fellow criminals about their work, at least in specifics. But, just as in legitimate circles, it occasionally made a decent icebreaker. A little vagueness and generous use of euphemisms usually kept anything from becoming too personal.
"Couldn't help but notice that people seem to know you here. You work around here normally?"
Re: Hospitality
"As little as I can," she said over the lip of her own drink, a deep coloured brandy. Though not anything to write home about, it wasn't the swill usually served here, a neat little trick of her continuing patronage that they found some of the nicer stuff for the pirate when she was in town. "If there is a bright center to the galaxy, Tatooine is the planet farthest from, as the saying goes."
She grasped the glass loosely in one hand, leaning back in the chair. Though the woman looked perfectly at ease, the sharp and roving quality of her gaze gave away that she was never truly off her guard. With the bounty on her head, that was not surprising.
"But Tatooine does have some good qualities, like the fact that people usually don't ask too many questions." That sharp gaze moved to Alema, and it was obvious that the comment was geared toward the twi'lek. Oddly enough though, Saede didn't seem annoyed. Rather a slightly amused, half crooked smile flitted across her face. A waiter came over to refresh their drinks, and she stopped talking for a moment while he topped her off, taking a deep pull of the firey liquid as he headed off. Saede had no compunctions about drinking this early in the day apparently.
"Ever heard of the Crimson Ferret's Revenge?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow slightly in Alema's direction.
Re: Hospitality
Alema tilted her head and set her drink down, blue fingers curling around the top edge of the glass. It was a familiar name, but she suspected it had at least as much to do with the memorable name itself as it did with the amount of information available. Hard to hear Crimson Ferret's Revenge even once without remembering it.
"I think I have, actually. Not too many details come to mind, but the name stuck." Alema shrugged. "Been out of touch for a while," she explained. "What about it?"
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