Dude, Where's My Purse

[Gillian Rel]

They walked inside the Lusty Lekku, his crew looked relieved to see them until they drew closer and they caught a whiff of them. "Oh shit..." one of Gil's men said as they walked in the door. "No...literally you smell like shit, boss.." he said holding a hand to his nose. Gil shot him a look that let him know he should not bring it up.

"Is everything locked down, here?" he asked the man, ignoring his comments. He, of course, knew they smelled. He had just listened to four women say it over and over again for the last hour last 30 minutes while traveled led back. His head was throbbing, but he listened as he got a report from his men. There were no other attacks, and reports were coming in about the compound explosion. "Send a couple of our guys to scout it out. Make sure they still out of sight." he said, dismissing the man. He looked more than happy to get away from the group.

"We are also gonna need the doctor to look at a couple of injuries." he said "Get him here." he said pointing to another man.

He needed a drink. It was the most important thing right now.

They moved into the main room, it was odd seeing it this empty. There were a few of his men around, but most were gathered around the entrances.

He stepped the bar, dodging broken glass and debris. Cait would have a fit if she saw this mess. It would be at least a couple of days before they were back up and running. He searched high and low for an unbroken glass but finally just settled on an entire bottle of whiskey.

Gil collapsed down in the chair. He wanted to go take a shower, maybe sleep for a day or so, but he needed to wait until the doctor arrived and he received reports from his scouts.

So for now, he settled for a chair and a bottle.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha was more than happy to be out of that jumbled mess. The night had been terrible, and now that she thought about it, it was almost entirely Gil’s fault. The men that came in to shoot the place up had come to find him, and everyone else had been a bystander casualty. However, that still didn’t explain his bizarre behavior in going after her and the other girls to get them out. With how infuriating the other four were, it was truly a test of patience for anyone to tolerate them through anything. The four were exhausted and rushed away to change and shower.

The Pantoran had also done that, and she changed into a normal dress instead of her dancer’s uniform like she had on all night. She was still in pain from the wound on her thigh, but she left it alone for now. Tasha came back out to the main bar area to clean up, and she was surprised to find Gil collapsed on a seat. The doctor was still delayed, and she could see he was still bleeding out. Tasha rolled her eyes, ignoring him as she walked over to move away the shards of glass. She worked with a few of the other workers there, effectively putting away all the trash and mess on the ground.

After a moment, however, Tasha made her way towards where Gil was. She was still confused by his actions, but she would keep that to herself. Instead, she held up a familiar bottle of liquor – the one she forbade him from tossing at their enemies, “Look what I found,” Tasha grinned, setting it down near him. She could still smell him, though it wasn’t as strong as before. He had bled through his shirt, and she eyed the wound, unsure of why she had even walked over.

Even if the doctor had arrived anytime soon, the girls would be the priority above all. Their return was essential to the business. Tasha left for a moment, and came back shortly, this time with a knife and some medical supplies. Despite her self serving nature, him going back for her irked her entirely too much. She figured doing something back would absolve her of that nagging feeling.

Without a word, she sat down next to him and used the knife to cut away the clothing there to reveal the wound. She worked almost methodically, not bothering to look at him or say anything as she cleaned the wound. Tasha had clearly done this many times before, her hands working expertly as she stitched up the gash and applied a salve on it. Her thoughts were far away, lingering on the gang they had fought with. Did they have deeper connections with powerful people that could pose problems? Would these attacks happen again?

 

[Gillian Rel]

He saw Sapphire come back downstairs, changed into a normal looking dress. He had really only seen her wear her work uniform. She still carried the same powerful aura around her, but now it seemed softened if only just a bit.

She joined the cleanup crew as they started the task of reversing this disastrous mess of a night. She seemed to avoid the area around him, which was fine. They had butted heads all night, on top of what she had been through. Gil relaxed back into the seat, letting his eyes closed for just a moment.

He was almost asleep when he felt like someone was looking at him. He opened his eyes to see the Pantoran dancer approach him, a bottle of liquor in hand. "Guess you were right not to throw it." he said, opening the bottle. "To living another night" he said holding up the bottle before taking and drink and offering it to her.

When she returned with a knife and medical supplies, he almost told her it wasn't necessary but it probably was. It would likely be hours before they could be treated properly, and they exactly been kept clean. He winced occasionally as she worked. "That was a hell of throw." he said eyeing the wound "I'll have to send a thank you letter to the family of the bastard that tackled you, probably saved my life." he said with a chuckle. The compliment was a bit backhanded, but there were no real ill intentions in it.

She continued to work on his shoulder. "I'm taking it that wasn't your first rodeo out there tonight? Out of all the girls, you seemed like you didn't need to much help." he finished before taking another drink, careful to keep his shoulder still as she worked.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha said nothing as he spoke, her focus on the wound alone. She was methodical when she found herself in a zone, and this was no different. She finished applying the salve and took some bandages and wrapped them around his arm. Tasha wasn’t exactly gentle – she didn’t care about how comfortable he was, only that the job got done. She thought about the man that had tackled, and she had to think that really would have ended with Gil dead. The knife was aimed at his chest, and nothing would have thrown off that trajectory. When Tasha decided someone needed to die, she seldom found herself patching them up hours later.

When he mentioned this wasn’t her first rodeo, she was just finishing up with the bandaging. Tasha leaned back in her seat and took the bottle, taking a swig and gazing ahead of herself, “I didn’t need any help,” She said flatly, “I take care of myself and never need the help. And you knew that as well,” Tasha drank again, savoring the flavor as it burned down her throat, “Which is why it’s perplexing why you chased after I was downed,” Privately, she thought things would have worked out better if he hadn’t. The other girls could have been forgotten in their cell, and she would have returned just fine on her own.

“You were stupid to do so,” She muttered, thinking back to all the choices she had made in her life. Every chance she had to ‘save someone’, she had always shrugged and walked away from it. Tasha’s perspective had allowed her to survive and thrive – his had only resulted in him almost dying a few times and a huge burden with the girls.

 

[Gillian Rel]

He winced one last time as she finished tieing the bandage, pulling it tight, maybe a bit more than necessary. He was grateful for his assistance but didn't bother interrupting her to say it.

He went back to his own bottle, taking a long pull from it as she explained how she had everything under control. He wouldn't argue with her. She was free when he had found her, she had helped to kill some of the thugs during their escape. She was capable, if his assumptions were correct, possibly much more than that. Plus, the thought of another argument with this woman before he slept made his head want to explode.

He wouldn't bring up the fact that she was indeed captured, there was a moment when she had no control over what happened to her, as much as she may have liked to think so.

"Am I though?" he asked raising an eyebrow to her accusation at his foolishness. "Sure, we could have replaced five dancers, even extremely talented ones." he said eyeing her for a second. "But everyone here would have known that if something happened to them, they would be abandoned. Whats to incentivize loyalty?" he asked, taking another drink. "Now we will get employees coming us, knowing they will be taken care and just discarded."

"Plus, if we ignored those bastards out there, they would only come back. Now, we bought ourselves some time at least. So what you call stupid, I call good business." he finished.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha scoffed at his words, shaking her head as she took another long swig from the bottle before handing it back, “No one cared to look for those girls until I happened to get caught by the very same people,” She turned to scowl at him, “If they mattered, they would have been brought back a long time back. Instead, those gang members kept picking the girls off one by one until they finally chose the wrong one,” They had been in that cell for some time, and Tasha knew they would have been entirely forgotten.

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, “Did you intend to have me serve as bait?” Was it possible that he could have orchestrated the entire thing? Perhaps there had been no other way to get to the girls outside of simply offering up someone that could handle herself. Perhaps that was what allowed Gil to finally find the facility that had them captured. The thought made her angry, but she was calm and cool enough to see the benefit of a play like that. No one here genuinely cared about anyone, and that much was proven even now with the business motivation behind a rescue operation.

“Those bastards were shooting at you,” Tasha didn’t voice any of her other thoughts out loud, taking another drink, “Meaning you have baggage you’re bringing here. Baggage that endangers everyone else,” She grinned at him, “Maybe it’s you that’s bad for business,” Tasha leaned back in her seat, getting comfortable and finally relaxing for the first time tonight.

“I don’t think that was the last of them.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

He had no idea what had led her in life to end up working here, everyone from the dancers to members of his own crew had all come from various backgrounds, many difficult, most tragic.

They had all had a long day, his waning patience began to thin even more. The simple fact was the Lusty Lekku employed a lot of people, some regular, some not so regular. It's a fact that strippers sometimes disappear without notice. She would know this, this was her life.

When she accused him, he looked up from the bottle he was holding. There was a flicker of anger there. "I told you to stay inside, you decided you were going to leave. Your stupidity caused you to get captured." he said placing the bottle down, deciding it was best to not have this conversation any tipsier than he already was.

"And if I wasn't here..there would be some other asshole that had baggage in my place. Everyone here..." he said gesturing to the whole room "..has baggage..."

"Maybe it's better to stick with the asshole that attempts to give a damn." he said nodding towards the door "If not that are plenty of other shitty strip bars that would be glad to treat you like the trash you think you should be treated like." he finished.

"Of course it's not the last of them." he said "Its never the last of them." he chuckled a little.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

She could tell he was getting irked, and it only made her chuckle. As he spoke, she drank even more from the bottle. She had a healthy buzz going, and the whisky went down so smoothly. Tasha was normally in the habit of killing anyone that talked to her wrong. In fact, it was one of the reasons she continued to work here – no one had pissed her off enough for her to kill them. While she wasn’t given much opportunity for advancement, she was mostly left alone to do whatever she pleased.

“Giving a damn has nothing to do with it,” Tasha handed the bottle back to him, draining the very drink she had fought so hard to keep from going to waste, “Quit acting like you’re some damn hero when five seconds ago you admitted your motivations for going after us was business,” She was looking at him now, the yellow eyes always searing and vivid. They were unnatural and without pupils, and it was always difficult to tell what was going on inside her mind.

“What did you expect? For everyone to gush about how amazing you were? For everyone to get down on their knees and suck your dick because of it?” She scoffed, “Get over yourself and cut out this giving a damn nonsense,” Tasha jerked her chin towards the other employees and dancers walking around, “There’s no room for any of it. This is a cutthroat galaxy. So what if we all died? We’re all expendable. All of us.”

Tasha took the second bottle he had started on, taking an even larger swig before shoving it back into his arms, “You just desperately want to be a Holomovie hero. You'd be much happier looking out for yourself.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

When she handed him the bottle, he drank from it. If she was going to stay, he wasn't going to be sober. She was infuriating and insufferable. He was no strangers when it came to dealing with difficult characters.

"I haven't asked for a damn thing from you or anyone else!" he said accepting the bottle again, there was a slight hint of a slur in his voice. They were burning through whiskey at a pretty impressive rate, but Gil was too agitated to care at all about that.

He laughed "Just a bit ago, you helped clean up my wound." he said, passing over the fact that she was the one who had inflicted the wound. "What self-serving purpose was that fulfilling?" he asked, slamming the bottle down on the table. "And how is only looking out only for yourself making you feel? It may surprise you, but you sound like the miserable beings I have ever met." he said picking the bottle, pointing towards her.

"I think if you took a half a second and pull that pretty head of yours out of your glittery ass, you might find you care for something other than yourself...and that scares the shit out of you." he said, holding the bottle up to his mouth but realizing it was empty. He tossed it back on the table.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha was glaring at him now. A worker picked up on their rapidly disappearing drinks and brought over another bottle to curry some favor. She didn’t even look as she swiped it from him, popping it open and fuming as Gil spoke. His words slurred, and her mind was swimming in a light fog. Tasha’s jaw tightened and she shook her head, her usual sultry and flirty nature gone to be replaced with nothing but irritation.

By the time he was done speaking, she reacted purely out of instinct and smacked him in the face. It was a sudden, abrupt gesture, and she realized she lost her cool. Tasha closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, exhaling even slower to collect herself again. She followed this by taking another long swig from the new bottle, comically shoving it back to him despite the slap. Nothing made sense right now, and she wasn’t going to linger on it.

“I didn’t want you to be able to hold it above my head,” Tasha growled, “That you went off to play hero and I repaid you with a knife to the shoulder,” That was a perfectly acceptable explanation, right? She scoffed as she recalled the rest of his commentary, “My glittery ass is what nets us a surplus of credits, a portion of which goes towards your salary, so you ought to be appreciating it more, you kriffing monkey lizard,” She hissed. Whereas she had earlier found the ears cute, now she wouldn’t hesitate to chop them off.

Tasha didn’t meet his gaze, looking away and still fuming, “Misery only comes when you invest into something,” Her words were slurring too, and she tilted her head back, breathing slowly as she looked up at the ceiling, “I’ve survived this long my way and have done just fine,” She tilted her head to cast him a sideways glance, “You don’t even know the names of the girls you so valiantly rescued. Nor have you ever asked. Nor has anyone else,” Tasha chuckled softly, taking another drink.

 

[Gillian Rel]

They were brought another bottle of liquor, which probably wasn't the greatest idea. Unknown to them, several of his crew were across the room beginning to take bets on the outcome of the exchange. There was a small cheer that was quickly cut off when Tasha slapped him. Gil's head snapped to the side, he didn't really feel any pain, but there was a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

He had never been a fighting kind of drunk, with his last ounce of sobriety, he thought it best to not go around slapping around the employees. He was quiet for a moment as he recovered. He didn't even want to be in the conversation anymore, but when she spoke it lit him on fire again and he jumped back in.

"Holding it over your head would require interacting with you, which you can be sure I won't be quick to do in the future." he said. He accepted the bottle back from her, drinking from it.

"That's right! You kriffing stabbed me...but I'm the asshole..." he said laughing for a second before the room started to spin slightly for him.

"You mean apprecaiting by....GOING AFTER YOU WHEN YOU GET CAPTURED?!" he said putting the bottle down on the edge of the table, almost missing it completely. It hung over the edge, balancing for now. He looked at the side of her chair, about to make a comment about her ass and how it wasn't all that great, but even drunk Gil, especially drunk Gil could still appreciate it. He probably stared too long, he didn't notice, pulled back to conversation by something else.

He laughed even harder this time. "You're right! Next time we will hand hands and go around introducing ourselves while we're getting shot at." he finsihed, clapping his hands. "Kriffing brillant." he spat.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha pointedly avoided looking at him when he began to talk again. His voice was grating, and his face made her want to punch it. He had done nothing when she slapped him, and for some reason that infuriated her even more. She had seen that trickle of blood, and there was a strange nagging feeling that kept reminding her she caused it. So kriffing what? She had left bodies left and right in her wake, and they all had been killed for far less than the irritation Gil invoked in her. Tasha drank several gulps from the bottle, shoving it back into his arms as he continued to now yell.

“Yes, you’re the asshole because you looked sketch as kriff standing there with a gun pointed at me,” Tasha hissed, “I’m not in the habit of dealing with moronic ‘heroes’ that like to put themselves in danger for fun,” She glared at him, her jaw tightening and teeth grinding. She had to resist the urge to coil the Force around his neck to make him stop talking. Her fingers began to dig into the armrests of her seat, nails grazing into the leather.

She didn’t need to follow his line of sight to know where he looked, but she simply rolled her eyes and brought out a bag of spice that Diamond had nabbed from the basement. If she wanted to keep her cool, she needed something more than just alcohol. Despite being drunk at this point, she needed something to mellow out her mind and not lash out and accidentally end up killing him. There were entirely too many people watching, and she knew she would garner unnecessary attention.

Tasha casually poured out some of the spice on her hand and snorted it, right there in the middle of him talking, “We've been here a long time, you never bother to talk to us because we’re merchandise. Don’t even act like that’s not true,” She tilted her head back, feeling the sudden rush of euphoria hit her. The spice was exceptionally high quality, and she knew why it had been hidden away under so many levels of protection.

“And so are you,” She turned to look at him, “You could die tomorrow, and the next day they’d send another dumbass to do security. Maybe he’ll actually be smart and not risk his life for stupid shit and bring in more trouble than he needs. And maybe he'll bitch less,” As she spoke, Tasha had a pile of the spice on her palm. She turned to him and blew onto her palm, sending the spice directly at his face and into his nose. Tasha simply laughed, his gang members now watching this entire bizarre exchange with curiosity.

 

[Gillian Rel]

He drank from the bottle, finishing it off. Three bottles down. Gil didn't even notice another bottle appear on the table. At this point, someone was definitely interested in keeping the entertainment going for themselves.

She looked angry, nails tearing into the armrest. Good, he was glad. He felt like he was on a roll, at least in his own mind but about lost it when she seemingly started to ignore him in favor of spice.

"Oh right, because talking to you now has been so pleasant. It's not my job to be your friend....I can't imagine the line for that job would be very long..." he said moving on to the next bottle.

"Bitch less?! They would probably smack the shi..." the cloud of spice hit him in the face, there was no way to avoid inhaling a good bit of it. Its effects were almost instantaneous. He lost his train of thought on what he had been yelling about as he coughed.

"Shit...this is good stuff." he said, blinking his eyes. He was vaguely aware of them burning, but it didn't register as pain to him. The room swam, even more, the lights starting to gently pulse. "..We shouldn't have blown the rest of the spice back there..." he said. Of course, it had been necessary but damn it was good.

A moment later, he looked back down at Tasha, his pupils dilated. He burst into laughter. "I hate you...so much" he said starting to laugh again.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha was a bit further along in her high than he was. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was in a happy place. Everything seemed beautiful and funny, and she had a hard time remembering why they were so angry. When he blurted out about not blowing the factory, Tasha drunkenly pointed a finger at him, “And whose fault was that? Oh yeah yours again. Drink!” She commanded, grin now on her face, “Your fault we were smelly. Drink!”

It had become a game now, and she recalled the different events of the night. Now that they were past it, it all seemed so damn funny. Tasha looked over at him as he mentioned he hated her, and it only caused her to laugh louder. She hallucinated slightly, his ears beginning to grow disproportionately large till she was sure he could fly away by flapping them. Tasha’s world was swirling, all of the colors and lights mixing around.

“Yeahhhhh yeah you should hate me. I’m pretty terrible,” She laughed, taking swig from the bottle, “Justtttt the absolute woooooorst,” Her words slurred and her eyes were half closed, “But I’m alive. We’re alive!” She shouted, turning to face him. She moved to the edge of her seat and closer to him, her eyes wide.

She suddenly had a very serious look on her face. She said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds she finally began, “Gil,” She said quietly, her eyes still glazed over, “.....Have you seen my purse?”

Tasha burst out laughing, unable to bite it back any longer.

 

[Gillian Rel]

The yelling seemed distant even though it was just a few minutes prior. He continued to laugh, even when she pointed out things that she thought were his fault. He drank each time she was told to.

He head waved as balance become a more abstract thing for him. He tilted his head slightly as hair turned to fire, eyes blinking in and out of existence. Normally that would have been terrifying, but all Gil saw was humor at the moment.

"Ohhhhhhhhh probably the wosssst thatsss ever lived....I can driink to thattt!" he said tipping his head back before putting the bottle down again.

"......" he paused, thinking of words was hard. "...Are we alive?..." he said feeling his face. It felt alien to him, not like he was touching own face but someone else.

"Huh?" he blurted out when she called his name. They both burst out laughing at the same time. "Kriiiiiiifffffiinnngg Purrseee!" he said yelled out. "I am not sure iff anyone hass told you thiss or not...but that thing is uggggllyyy." he said laughing again.

"You think with how much we pay you, you'd have better taste than a Hutt with no eyes." he said. Where did he leave that purse though? If he could give the stupid thing back, maybe she would stop talking about it.

"I think itsss in the officee...maybe...I dont know.." he said not quite remembering where he had put it, probably in one of the lockboxes or something.

"Illll get ittt" he slurred, trying to standup, but not successful the first time. He steadied himself and made his way to the office. He fumbled with the code, which took a few times before the door opened.

He made it halfway inside and collapsed on the ground, still conscious and laughing.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha looked at him suspiciously as he asked if they were alive, “Are we notttt?” She grumbled, “Shit I guess not… this has gotta be hell with you for company,” Tasha burst out laughing at her own joke, taking another swig of alcohol. She could swear, she could hear colors and see sound, and everything blended into a perfect kaleidoscope of colors. The entire bar was swirling around, and everyone looked so fantastic. Their faces changed, and they became fantastical characters from Holomovies, and Gil’s ears just kept getting larger.

She had moved back from him after her joke about the purse, but she scowled as he called it ugly. Tasha cleared her throat, pointing a finger up importantly, “’Scuuuuse me, that purse an’ I go a long way back,” She explained slowly, slurring most of her words, “Been through thick and thin and its always got my back…and um.. “ She had expected to have a complete story lined up, but she lost her train of thought. Tasha scowled at him, “You shut up, you’re just a pointy eared idiot. What do you know about purses…”

When he implied he knew where it was, her eyes lit up. She saw him struggle to get up, and she simply kept drinking to pass the time. Once he was finally up, Tasha did the same. As soon as she was on her feet, the entire room seemed to spin, and she had to close her eyes to reorient herself, “Kriff…” She couldn’t remember the last time she had allowed herself to be this far gone. The carpet beneath her feet looked like a bizarre purple grass.

Tasha half stumbled and half walked behind him, complaining about how he had her purse the entire time. She was incredibly determined to get that purse, and she took a swig from the bottle and followed behind him. He made it halfway in before he fell over, and she tripped as a result. She landed on him, almost knocking him out with the bottle in her hand. Alcohol splashed over them both, and it took her a moment to realize what was going on.

With a groan, she rolled off him, “Ughhhhh you useless lump..” She grumbled, plopping down on the ground next to him. She gazed up at the ceiling and stared for a long moment, “Whoooaaaaaa…” Tasha trailed off, “Um… if I’m dead right now then I don’t even neeeeed my purse, do I?” She asked, trying to take a drink while lying down while some of it fell on her chin instead, “I don’t even need to worry about credits,” She tilted her head to look at him, “We don’t need to worry about anything!”

 

[Gillian Rel]

"Owwww" he said in the middle of fits of laughter after she landed on him, almost braining him the bottle of liquor. "Itss rainin!" he said, feeling the alcohol pour down the back of his neck. He likely would feel that in the morning, alongside all of his other injuries, what was one more to add the list.

"Youuuu tripsed me..." he said, rallying all of his strength to turn over on his back. When he did, he found himself floating in a giant purple ocean as alcohol splashed his face. It felt endless to him. "Saphsire..." he said, butchering her name "come on in...the water is greattt." he said holding out both of his arms, one of them unknowingly draping across the Pantoran woman.

The ocean rocked him up and down, up and down. He kicked his feet and laughed. He saw the bottle floating in the see next to him. He reached for it, pour the liquid in his mouth, but a wave crashed over him causing him to cough. The "water" burned his nose and eyes.

"Looook!" he said pointing at the sun right above them. There was a sun inside? It was a light a second ago? It was a sun now, and it was Sapphire's purse! Gil reached for the giant purse in the sky but it flew away like a giant bird. "Noooo come back!" he said. "Byeee purse!" he said as he waved at the disappearing purse as it flew into the distance. "Your purssse flew aways..." he said, suddenly back in the room, his arm across Saphire's face.

"Bein deadsss not ssoo bad..." he said, catching her last words.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

“I didn’t trisp youuuu!” She protested, trying to recall the actual chain of events. Of course, she couldn’t even piece two lines of thought together. Tasha looked over as he mentioned the water, and suddenly her vision of the world changed to match. The alcohol splashing around only made it all too real, and she found herself in water. As his arm unceremoniously flopped over her, she grabbed it and saw it as a log to latch onto before the current washed her away.

“You didn’t caaatch my purseee?” She half shrieked, deeply concerned. Tasha looked over at him and saw him as a boat in the middle of the ocean. She used the arm to draw in closer and scrambled up to flop onto the boat. In reality, she swung over to straddle his stomach, and she looked down at the tumultuous waves all around. Tasha heaved a sigh of relief, “I almost droooowned!” She said, perched atop his abdomen and safely away from drowning in the carpet. She blocked out the light above them, causing an eclipse in the sun, though her fiery hair was suddenly very vivid against the rich, blue skin.

Tasha looked down at him, seeing his ridiculous ears. She could have sworn she saw them twitch. His eyes looked vivid, and she met them with her bright yellow ones. She scowled down at him, looking as if she were deep in thought for a moment, “What kind of name is Giiil?” She slurred, her hands resting on his chest. Tasha was nice and comfortable where she was sitting, and it certainly left her safe from the waves. She reached one of her hands over to grab the bottle, taking a swig and resting it back down on his chest to be used as a table.

“Gli is such a simple name,” She said matter of factly, butchering said simple name, “Youuuuu are not simple,” Tasha said as she went to point at him, but ended up poking him on the nose with her finger, “Youuuu make nooo sense. You are just awful,” She said dramatically, taking another swig from the bottle, spilling some of it on him, “Andddd you always smell,” Tasha brought her hand up towards his face, using a thumb to wipe away the blood that was still at the corner of his lips. She was still glaring, “Andddd you’re alwaaaaays bloody and a mess.”

 

[Gillian Rel]

The skies darkened, the sun suddenly overtaken by clouds. "No...dos go.." he murmured to the sun as it completely faded from view. In its place was a giant blue storm cloud, with lightning made of fire shooting out from all directions.

A strangely familiar voice boomed from the clouds, two large golden orbs at its center. It was terrifying but quite beautiful at the same time. "Itss a sstupid name...hate it." he said leaning up a little "I think my mother did drugs when she gave it to me." he said laughing, falling back to floor, unable to hold himself up with her on top of him.

The hallucination blurred, allowing him to make out her face among the clouds. He reached up with a palm, dragging it along the front of her face "H..how you do that with your eyes?" he asked inquisitively. "Sssoo...gold.." he continued rambling.

He let another slurred laugh. "you're aweful...I think you stabbed me.." he said trying to remember what had happened. Yeah, he was pretty sure the cloud had stabbed him.

He leaned his neck up, smelling his shirt collar. "Ughhhh I do smell..." he said wrinkling his nose as he laid his head back down on the floor. The cloud reached down with an icy hand and wiped the side of his face. He giggled "Thats cold!" he said, seeing the ice crystals form on his face. He pulled his head to the side. "Why are you sso cold!" he asked.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Tasha almost toppled over a few times, and she pressed her palms into his chest to keep her balance. Her eyes were still glazed over, and the drugs hit her full force. His eyes were bright green like gems, and she couldn’t stop staring. She was distracted when he reached a hand up and dragged it along her face. His words made her giggle - actually giggle - not the fake laugh she usually gave, “Theeeeey help me seeeee. My eyes are the light!” She said dramatically, her skin smooth to touch.

Tasha’s eyes were half closed, and she could still see them both floating down the ocean. When he leaned up slightly, she gasped and panicked, clutching onto his clothing to keep from falling in, “Nooooo you need to be a steady boaaaat,” She whined, “I don’t wanna fall innnn,” Tasha almost dropped the bottle she was drinking from right on his face.

After her hand had been on his face, he complained about her being cold. Tasha simply laughed again, sliding her fingers down along his jawline and down his neck, “Wellll you’re so waaaaarm,” Tasha tilted her head to look at him. He was the sands of Korriban, and she was running her fingers through the warm grains. She always felt at home there, and she could picture the endless deserts and the warm dunes lit up by the bright sun.

“Endless deserts...endless skies...” She muttered to herself, her fingers tracing down lower now and past his collarbone. She had already cut away part of his shirt to tend to his wounds, and she tugged away at that thread of clothing to tear it away. Tasha absentmindedly kept tracing down along his bare chest, laughing at him, “I’m freeeeezing the desert!” She started to giggle again, savoring how warm his skin felt under her touch.