Open Naboo Deep Purple

[Algus Doll]

Thick with the smell of Merenzane Gold, sweat and conversation, the air of the cantina was alive with the ambience of Naboo nightlife. Varicolored, the seemingly inconspicuous exterior of the building gave way to a fulgid atmosphere; the entire room bathed in shades of blue and violet. Although not overly packed, the quaint bar harbored enough individuals that bumping shoulders was inevitable. Used to crowds, Algus felt right at home, it was hard to survive in Fort Ypso if you needed personal space after-all.

Dressed in a dark-grey, knee length coat with a flared collar, his visage was innocuous, and he melded seamlessly into the writhing vista of bodies. “Beer please. Whatever lager you have here. Surprise me.” Truthfully, he didn’t really care what he drank. Right now, he just wanted to waste time and surround himself with people, whether he knew them or not. His expedition from Vandor had left him feeling lonely, longing for crowds and places rich with the undercurrent of malady, slick deals and grunge; lowly places that reminded him of home.

Receiving his drink, he peered down into the gold tinted liquid, staring at his distorted reflection within its foamy surface. “Vandor, Coruscant and now Naboo.” Bringing the frothy glass to his lips, he stole a small sip of it. He never really liked alcohol. “Where will you take me next?”

 

[Saragnayan]

A predator stalked the streets of Naboo.

The Gungan dropped on the ground, dead, with his neck bent in an unnatural angle. Clutched in his grip still was a hair pin that was soon plucked out of his hand. Red eyes studied the lacquered wood intently, inlaid with pieces of émeraude along its length. The craftsmanship was simple, the only value in it being the tiny gemstones that dotted it's surface, and she would've let the thief take it if it weren't for the hair pin's sentimental value.

Hrist stepped over the corpse and made her way out of the dark alleyway, the ire in her eyes melting to give way for demureness. Tucking the hair pin back in the safety within her jacket's folds, the woman sailed through the crowd of people milling about the Nabooan nightlife. A timid smile here, a charming word there, and the female Sith found herself being escorted into the nearest cantina by an overly eager young man. With a flick of one dainty hand the poor sap was off, sent away with a meek word of thanks.

The predator was gone, replaced by the reserved and wide-eyed lady who had just been recently given enough freedom to wander places without an escort.

At least she didn't look out of place in the bar, forgoing her long dresses in favor of a short, black one with the hem of its skirt reaching just shy of her lower thighs. Red synthleather jacket and a pair of black knee high wedge boots completed the picture. Her long hair fell over her shoulders in a russet curtain, and she shyly tucked some stray strands behind one ear as she headed for the counter. A stream of soft "I'm sorry" and "Excuse me" slipped past her lips as she passed through the patrons who were blocking her way, the apologies spoken in hushed tones heralding her arrival as she took the seat beside the man clad in a dark grey cloak.

He seemed to be talking to himself. It was cute. She did that a lot, too, to pass the time whenever she's away from her Father's estate.

The woman meekly waved at the bartender and pointed at the man's glass.

"I-I'll have what he's drinking, please," she requested with a bashful smile.

—

Buried Presence:
ACTIVE | INACTIVE

 

[Algus Doll]

Averting his gaze to the side as the woman took a seat next to him, he briefly looked her over, circling the rim of his glass absentmindedly. He offered her a sly smile before bringing his glass and taking another sip of the golden liquid inside. “I hate beer.” He said to her lightly with a grin. “I never know what to order when I go out. Always feels inappropriate to just get water or something at a place like this.”

Turning his attention back to the barkeep, he waved him over. “You can put it on my tab.” The barkeep, a stern looking Iktochi man with pale blue skin nodded, leaving momentarily to get her drink. Not used to company, at least in recent years, he couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. Usually, he felt right at place in the company of strangers and although he was a reserved individual, generally had no problem making conversation; he could feel his pulse quicken a bit and awkwardly he scooted to the side slightly to make room for her at the bar, letting his barstool screech as it dragged subtly across the floor.

Traveling alone for so long definitely didn’t help out when it came to social situations. “I didn’t take you for a beer person.” He quirked his brow as the bartender brought her drink, sliding it over the surface of the bar towards her. “My name’s Algus.” He smiled once more at her, offering her his hand. He doubt he’d be so awkward if a Hut came over and sat next to him instead, but he supposed he should consider himself lucky.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Saragnayan]

The sort of funny thing about lying was that it became believable when the liar themselves believe the web they have spun for their prey.

It was easy to shed the identity of a cowardly an unstable and bloodthirsty Sith with the absence of the stolen Mandalorian armor she usually wore. Right now she was just Hrist Aufreisser, sole daughter of a doting nobleman who had emigrated to Naboo for personal reasons. A meek and painfully modest woman who had recently been given the freedom to go where she pleased without having to worry her widowed parent.

As such, the crimson flush that bloomed across her face seemed genuine enough. The smile she gave the man was diffident as she listened to his words. And he was so sweet, offering to pay for her drink when he didn't have to. He was lucky she had temporarily sated the bloodlust that was burning beneath her skin before she stepped into the cantina.

"You didn't have to," muttered Hrist, but the gratitude was evident in her tone. "But you have my thanks."

The bartender returned with her glass of beer, and Hrist took it with a grateful smile sent to the Iktotchi's way. She admitted, tone light and with a tiny hint of mischief, "To be fair, I usually order juice... but I wanted to change that, so..."

Raising her glass to him, the Sith in disguise took a small sip and smiled at the liquor's bitterness. Typically accustomed to expensive wines and champagnes, Hrist soon cringed lightly at the taste, this being the first time she had ever tried beer. She coughed once, twice, setting her glass back on the counter before covering her mouth with a hand while she cleared her throat.

"That– That's awful!" she exclaimed with an airy giggle, shooting the cute guy a timid yet chuffed smile. The tittering was soon muffled when the bartender shot her a slightly affronted look for her comment, and Hrist's gaze shifted back to the man she had approached. "Well, now it is officially established that I am not a beer person."

She took another sip of her drink nonetheless, showing no discomfort any longer for having to partake in such disgusting liquor. He had paid for it, and what had Father told her about being wasteful?

The glass found its way back on the counter and Hrist's ruby gaze shifted from his hand then to the smile on his face. She smiled at him, wider and brighter, as she slid her palm to his, dainty fingers curling lightly around his hand.

"I'm Hrist," she introduced herself in return, the warmth of her smile reaching her eyes. The other Marauders called her an unfeeling, wicked witch, but, oh! They could assume all day and she would not even bother to prove them wrong.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Algus," the female Sith added amiably. Then, with a curious tilt of her head, she followed-up with an intrigued, "Do you travel a lot? Offworld? I'm sorry for asking so suddenly, I'm just– I'm just curious. I haven't really travelled much, so I simply wish to know what it must be like."

–

Buried Presence:
ACTIVE | INACTIVE
@Flower

 

[Algus Doll]

“Hrist huh?”

She was the first person he’d had a conversation with since he left Vandor which, by now, felt like ages ago. Something about the way she carried herself reminded him of someone from back home. Perhaps it was the way she jumped straight into ordering something she didn’t know she’d even like. A sign of an adventurous person; or maybe it was the way she smiled, giving off an air of uncertainty about herself. It didn’t matter in the end, that relationship was long over. A hollow memory that died on a distant planet.

“Well, it’s a pleasure.” Taking another sip of his beer, he whipped his mouth with his forearm and then coughed. The taste reminded him of something between an old boot and the ration packs he’d eaten on his way to Naboo. Setting the glass down, he slid it slightly away from himself.

“Traveling? Yeah, you could say that.” Reclining back, he crossed one of his legs and folded his arms, turning on the barstool to face her. “You know, actually just recently I began traveling. Most of my life I’ve been pretty stranded.” Reaching up he brushed some of his dark hair back. He had a young face with dark eyes, his ears stuck out a bit, but his demeanor was serious and hardened.

“You ever heard of Vandor? It’s an ice ball really. Lots of snow, no summer, or atleast what many people think of summer. Perpetually frozen.” He chuckled, his eyes tilting up just a bit as if lost in thought, recalling memories before averting back down to her. “You know, there’s a charm to it though. It sounds like an awful place, but it’s not. Atleast not to me. You know, I crave snow sometimes or just cold air, you don’t get that in a lot of places.”

Reaching for his drink robotically, lost in his conversation, he hesitated and then decided he didn’t want it, pushing the glass farther away from himself. “And what about you? I’m guessing you’re from Naboo then?”

When the bartender walked past, Algus caught his attention. “Hey can we get two uh, I don’t know. Jogan fruit juice? Just two glasses, thanks.” The Iktochi patron nodded and scurried off to retrieve the two drinks.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Saragnayan]

She could see the way he gazed at her, a spark of nostalgia flashing fleetingly in those dark pools. The Sith in disguise did not need the Force to see through the glimpses of emotions that led to betray his thoughts, but Hrist kept hers to herself. Her smile widened when he pushed his drink away and she mimicked him, ruby gaze alight with childish mischief at the sound of clinking glasses.

Hrist offered Algus her full focus when he turned on his seat to face her, listening with rapt attention as he responded to her questions. She expected that he would answer with the air of an experienced traveler who braved both the good and the bad parts of the galaxy, someone who had seen the kindness and depravities sentient beings were capable of. As it turned out, his demeanor belied his inexperience.

No, inexperience was a poor choice of word.

And Hrist understood that feeling of being stranded. While her Father had been a... kind Master during her Cadre days, the russet-haired woman had spent the better part of her childhood locked in a cell. But she had been fine with it, only ever caring about being a good girl for her handler. Did she really understand the feeling, though? Could she relate to that feeling of wanting to move on, to travel the stars and see the galaxy at large?

As Saragnayan, the Sith who hungered to feel the despair and fear of others but rejected her own – she could not. But she was Hrist now, and so she understood.

"I've never heard about it," came her honest reply, one truth to a myriad of lies she crafted and were about to make. "I have never seen snow," a lie swamped by the truth she had just admitted to "so I will take your word for it. Vandor..."

At his question, Hrist shook her head in negative before voicing out a verbal reply. "No, I am not. My Father and I have emigrated here a year ago. I grew up on Coruscant, and it's the only place I have ever known – not until Father's health began to decline, and we both agreed that a change of scenery would do him good."

Her expression became a little somber, ruby gaze settling on her clasped hands.

"I guess you can say that we're... kind of the same. I never liked Coruscant despite having spent almost the entirety of my life there. The cities, the buildings, the people... I felt like I never belonged there, and I felt stranded on a planet I couldn't call home." She looked at Algus, smiling softly and repeating what he had told her, the words now directed to herself. "Most of my life I've been pretty stranded. Coruscant's only saving grace is that I lived there with my Father."

The bartender returned with two glasses of Jogan fruit juice, as ordered. Hrist spared the Iktotchi a glance and a word of thanks, one porcelain hand reaching for her glass and the other pushing Algus' to his direction.

"So, what brought you here, if I am allowed to ask?"

—

Buried Presence:
ACTIVE | INACTIVE
@Flower