Doubts and Recreation

[The Doctor]

The Light at the End Cabaret Theatre and Club
21:42
Theme
​

Prakith wasn't a very dense world in terms of population, it was mostly barren in places where no cities existed. Of the few cities that existed the population count was low, and some of them counted as little more than slightly larger shanty towns, so as a result, it wasn't really a place where you could relax. However, there was one place on Prakith that had become a worldwide attraction fr anyone looking to take a load off, and that, was The Light at the End. Named because it was on the other side of it's city from the ports, and the fact that the place lit up the night sky like a planet scale campfire, it was, without a doubt, the single largest relaxation spot on Prakith, spanning at least a mile long and boasting hundreds of things to do. The main attraction, and what it started as, was the cabaret hall/night club, where bands and such could perform to their audience in the tables directly in front of the band, whilst the back half of the room was for dancers and party goers.

The Doctor sat back in her armchair booth, letting the seat's cushioning fibers practically absorb her diminutive frame as she knocked back another shot of Sunfruit Liqueur, her third since getting here. She absolutely loved it here, the seats of rich corellian leather, the music that made your soul soar and sublimely soothed your aching brain, the steady rhythm of feet on the dance floor. Then, of course, there was the Liquors and under the table substances they freely passed out to give their poor populace a little boost in life. She had finally arrived on Prakith to answer the summons put to her by Exile Master Leviticus so long ago, on Mustafar. She met so many fun ones there, she met Kano, the walking casserole, Nadela, in all her sexy kickass finery, then there was Suiren, she hadn't seen him around lately, aaaand...oh yeah Leviticus! Whom she was here to see, and al...already mentioned *hic*, ok maybe it was a tad redundant to mention Levi again.

Malthazar had said that he would meet The Doctor at the club, have some drinks, take a load off, enjoy themselves. Unfortunately for him, nature seemed to not want him here on time, because he was supposed to be here 20 kriffing minutes ago, so The Doc figured she'd have a few drinks without him for now and hot damn! That was a smarrrrt decision! Her eyes fell upon the Death Sticks laying just on the edge of the table, sitting there all lonely lookin, cryin out for some attention...aaaah what the hey! She grabbed one and jabbed the kriffer into her sleeve, it's juices coursing through her veins and already starting to flood into her brain. Everything heightened to her, she could feel every beat and strike, the drums making her whole body feel as if it were pulsing with the reverbs, the dancers ringing her ears and singing their own tunes step by beat. The smell of booze and vomit and juice and sweat and fresh air all piled into her nose, filling her brain with this beautiful cocktail that just made her head fall back and her body sink even deeper into the chair, her fingers starting to trace the fine carvings from the wood table that had been made when it was cut, feeling it even through the varnish.
"Aaaaah...the benefits of 5 century lifespan" She slurred

​

@The Matt

 

[Darth Malos]

.

A loud, exasperated sigh erupted from Malthazar's mouth as he waited in line, having stood there for the past half hour. The club was indeed popular, and for that very reason the queue to get in was not only long, but also slow. The Exile regretted not reserving a seat as a VIP--how would he know he needed to?--but that was all he had as he sat there, his feet grounded in the duracrete below: regret. And regret would not get him in any faster, so it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He made his way out of the line, losing his spot in the middle, and began walking toward the door, which was 20 kriffing meters away. His stride was casual and deliberate, his hands at his sides while his cloak rested on his shoulders, giving him the look of a relaxed, handsome, middle-aged entrepreneur looking to unwind. Truthfully, he looked like someone's father who had come to end their child's night of fun at the club, but tonight he was the one looking to unwind.

As he approached the door, the people in line glared at him, each of them aware of what he was about to do--or at least, so they thought. Without a word, he strode to the bouncer (who was also staring him down) and leaned in. "Malthazar Dreadheart. You will see me on the guest list under VIP," he stated, his voice dripping with persuasion. The Templar looked right into the man's eyes, and the body guard seemed to have suddenly become very tired. His glazed-over eyes gazed down at the clipboard in his hand and despite not seeing the Exile's name, he waved him in. The partygoers in line groaned in unison as Malthazar walked in, a smug smile on his face.

He spent a few seconds looking through the crowd, his eyes scanning for the Doctor. Upon spotting her--was she already drunk?--he walked over and took a seat, collapsing into the armchair and exhaling a sigh of relief. His head craned to look at her. "Doctor, why could we not party on somewhere normal, like Nar Shaddaa? Everyone parties on Nar Shad--Goodness me, are those death sticks?"

Ah, death sticks. They were like an old friend to Malthazar, one that made him feel nice temporarily and then later came back to bite him in the ass. He was no stranger to the illicit substance, having spent some time with it during his rocky 20s when he was first exiled, but he had not even touched a death stick in over a decade. Truthfully, he didn't intend to.

"Corellian ales," he later murmured, turning so that the waitress could hear him, and saying it quietly enough that he didn't interrupt the Doctor mid-sentence.

 

[The Doctor]

Finally! The big lug showed himself! The Doctor gestured lazily to the chair opposite her as she noted Malthazar's stench of expensive cologne and military grade shampoo combing her nostrils. "It took you long enough," She said, her head popping back up to look at him, "One, you're right, everyone does party on Nar Shadda, so they don't appreciate how relaxing it can be, whereas here, everyone can, and two, yeah! go ahead, freeze your brain so to speak." Now that her guest had arrived, The Doctor felt the need to be a little more polite, which simply translated into sitting up and looking at him with a goofy smirk. "Yooou are late mister." One thing The Doctor loved about being drunk? How freeing it felt. "And besides, I'm going to visit Levi tomorrow anyway, I might as well get sloshed here," One thing The Doctor hated about being drunk? How freeing it felt.

Now that Malthazar was here, the party could really begin. The Doctor was pretty curious as to what he was like when he was drunk, she had only ever seen him when he was plotting, or when he wanted to talk. It would be a first to see him cut loose, and this would be the first time he would see her cut loose, though most people would probably ask how much looser she could get. It was only as she thought about the times she had met Malthazar, scanning for any demeanor other than "Polite and Direct", when a thought hit her. Malthazar was probably the exile that she knew better than anyone else she had me, apart from possibly Nadela. The amount of times they had met was pretty big: The Gala, Ilum, Telos, Nar Shadda, and probably a few others she'd forgotten. By comparison, most other exiles she'd met were one offs or DBR's (Dead before Reunion), like Trillian. She sighed heavily at the thought of her funny little boy, her features sinking, "Oh Trill..." She said softly, her thoughts bleeding into reality. Before she could think anymore bad thoughts, the music kicked into a different gear, and that promptly drew her attention back to the stage. "Oh yes!! I love this place! The music is so schway!!!"

 

[Darth Malos]

.

Malthazar sat back, putting his hands on the arms of his chair. Tonight, for the first time in months, he had taken off his armor, instead opting to spend the night relaxed and partying. It felt freeing to not have the durasteel breastplate holding his body upright, or the pads stuck to his arms. He wished he could have done this more often, but they were at war. He could not ignore that, as relaxing as it would have been to.

"Leviticus? What could you possibly want from him?" he asked, perking up a bit. Rather than responding, she changed the subject, complimenting the music, and Malthazar decided tonight was not for business. Might as well relish it, since he would not have one like this in a long time. Besides-

"Doctor, you are standing in the presence of an Exile Master now. How does it feel?" he asked, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. It was perhaps the widest he had smiled in a long time, but the pride and sense of accomplishment swelling through him was intoxicating enough for him to drop the facade. He took a sip of Corellian ale, which the waitress had just set down at their table--a small coffee table that reached to knee level--and motioned for the Doctor to do so as well.

Then, he raised his glass in a toast. "To power!" he proclaimed. The Doctor gave him a look as if to say "No business tonight," and he lowered the glass a bit, sheepishly grinning. "And to...err...friendship!" he added, clinking his glass against hers, then downing all of it in one gulp. It felt strange as it slid down his throat, since the Exile preferred to savor his drink, but the goal today was get drunk, and sipping at his usual pace would certainly not do the trick.

 

[The Doctor]

With the moment of levity between the two, a rare thing considering their line of work, The Doctor decided now was the time to give Malthazar a quick scan up and down, make sure he was ok, she hated it when her friends were someplace they didn't want to be. It only struck her then that he had removed his armor for once, sporting simple clothes with his usual cloak (some things never changed). It was pretty mind boggling just how different he looked outside his little shell, the shoulders not nearly as broad as they usually were for one thing, another thing being that you could actually see skin underneath for once, he was human after all! It was good to see him as just a guy, and not as some big and important puff chested exile leader.

...aaaaand then he had to ruin it by, yet again, mentioning that she now sat in the presence of an Exile Master, oooooooh!!! Where's her autograph book!? He had been droning on and on about it for days now in their messages, and to be honest, after so long thinking on it, she could only think of one simple retort. "It feels like you're twice as annoying now," She sat back, smirking mischievously at him. Honestly, if he couldn't take a ribbing while he was drunk, then he might as well not be her friend at all. Thankfully, he was all too happy to loosen up considering his next action was to propose a toast, a tad antiquated but still classy nonetheless. Despite having been about to repeat the sentiment, The Doctor found her voice frozen, instead uttering something completely different as the glasses clinked together. "To great strides, great friends...and the great people that we had to leave behind before getting here" She said softly, knocking her liquour back.

 

[Darth Malos]

.

"Twice as annoying? It seems you're implying that I was annoying before, but we both know that's not true," he replied, winking.

Malthazar downed the entire glass in one gulp, then turned to see the Doctor knocking hers back. He raised both his eyebrows, a surprised look on his face. He signaled to the waitress asking for another drink. She obliged, bringing a tray with 4 more and setting them down.

"Something tells me this tab will take a mind trick to settle," he remarked, his voice low, as he picked up another glass and took a sip. The alcohol would kick in soon enough, and may the Force be with them when it did.

 

[The Doctor]

"Oh you weren't annoying...you were insufferable!" She shot back, cackling madly. It was true, as good a friend as Malthazar was, he could sometimes be the very definition of unbearable and pretentious prick. That only got worse when he defeated her on Illum, a fat that he would now never let her forget, no matter what she did! She could save his hide a million times and every. single. time 'Oh by jove Doctor, that was marvellous, care for another round of dueling since you have so greatly improved from Illum? I'm sure it would be a great honour to duel an exile master of my caliber!' The Doctor raised her glass again, knocking it back only to find no drink in it. It took several moments of confusion before she remembered that she hadn't actually refilled her glass, causing her to facepalm a little.

It was at this moment of drunken amnesia, when she was starting to question how much she was really gonna have tonight, that Mal decided to inquire into the bill, to which the Doctor froze up, color draining from her face. "Um...we don't need to worry about that" She slurred shyly, giving the guiltiest grin you could ever see in a woman. "I might have, ah...you remember when you gave me your chit account details?" There wasn't much more to be said, needless to say Malthazar would wake up the next morning a much poorer man.

 

[Darth Malos]

.

His mouth opened in a surprised "O".

"Oh you snake!" he shouted, a smile gathering on his face. He took out his datapad and checked his banking account after setting his drink down on the table. He watched in dismay as the numbers plummeted before his very eyes. "You will pay for this," he said. "Literally."

He could feel the drinks setting in now, slowly but surely. Malthazar was growing drunker by the minute, but that didn't stop him from drinking one last glass. After downing it in one single gulp, he sat back, hands on his lap. The Templar exhaled, relaxing, fully aware that the night was about to grow more exciting.

The DJ had other things in mind though. After saying something about slowing it down (Malthazar had tuned out from the noises of the club and only picked up the occasional word), he changed the song, instead opting for something much, much slower.

 

[The Doctor]

The drinks had been setting in for The Doctor for more than a little while now, but as a great man said, 'Being Drunk is like being trapped underground, you can only go deeper'. The Death Stick was starting to kick into gear now, every single beat and pulse sending waves into the room, setting it awash in vibrant colors, greens, yellows, reds, it was a spectacular light show. The Doctor fell back again into her chair, her head snapping back and finding itself staring at the ceiling as a small musical piece began to creep into her head, the ceiling and spiral patterns starting to spin and twist...

Aleera stood in a ballroom, it was large, the ceiling climbing for what seemed like forever. The walls were painted a grand shade of gold, masterfully crafted and carved as branches of leaves against a pure white background, spiraling this way and that. The floor was pure marble against her feet, cold and hard, but smooth too, hurting her eyes with it's continuous diamond pattern. She looked around, her eyes spotting at least three or four people, not including herself, all dancing to that infernal tune that rebounded across every wall and pore, screaming into her ears. One of them came forward, strolling right up to her and bowing respectfully. Aleera sensed familiarity, almost as if she knew this masked figure. It was only when the figure took off the mask, revealing the chiseled features beneath, that she felt recognition in her grasp.

Teyhana offered a gentle and comforting hand, gesturing toward the floor where the others were still waltzing with one another, completely carefree and unaware of their new guest. Aleera couldn't care less about them anymore though, her eyes simply gazed into the glistening azure balls of her love, her form staring back as they smiled and embraced, threading fingers through each other's hands as their lips met. Slowly, Aleera could feel herself beginning to spin and her hand clutched Teyhana's tightly, with the blond beauty not letting go either, still smiling and bringing the healer along with her. It was bliss incarnate as the two danced, each sensation and moment their formed touched sending euphoric waves of ecstacy through their souls.

Then she appeared...

She struck quickly, like lightning, her crimson sword gliding across her abdomen, destroying it in one clawing stroke. She screamed, her voice acting as a fist does to glass, shattering the illusion. All she saw before the world turned to darkness was The Doctor standing over her, her lightsaber illuminating the shadow of her form that shrouded itself in the endless black.

The Doctor's eyes snapped awake and she practically leapt out of her chair, painting and puffing as sweat dripped down her head. She was about to say something, before the music started to swell. In her state, her panicked state almost instantly was washed away, and she immediately grabbed Mal's hand. "I love this song!! Let's dance!" She exclaimed.

 

[Darth Malos]

.

Malthazar opened his eyes and watched the Doctor as she seemed to be hallucinating. It seemed as though the death sticks were doing their job now, and the effect was visible on her face. Yet, it seemed to contort into a frown, then a grimace. Finally, she basically threw herself up and off the chair, grabbing Malthazar by the hand. The sudden jump startled him, although he didn't move, his face still fixed in a content, although stoic expression. He had gotten so used to the mask he wore that it was hard to take it off and relax.

He nodded as he rose to follow her. Malthazar was no stranger to dancing, although he hoped the Doctor was looking toward something more ballroom-oriented. He wasn't used to clubs, cantinas being the closest he got to hanging out in them. This was not necessarily a first, but it was a first in a long time.

Malthazar let her lead him to the dance floor. A crowd of dancers had formed, and it seemed as though each couple was doing their own things. To his luck, it seemed as though he was not the only one there looking to waltz; others were gliding around, hands on each other's waist. It gave him a brief burst of courage, and he put his hands on the Doctor's hips as they made their way into the crowd.

The two would glide there like that as the music played, Malthazar now stopping to observe her features. He knew she was a shapeshifter by now, but he didn't know if each Shi'ido was different at mimicking species, or if it took talent to create a mirror-like image. To the Doctor's credit, she looked pretty human to him, with no specific thing popping out that alerted him of her abilities.