Run away...join the circus... (pre- DOTR flashback)

[Diva]

This is a flashback to a chance encounter between two upcoming DOTR characters, 8 years prior to the start of the timeline.
Taking place on the planet Zeltros, behind the large frieghter housing Nor'baal's Delights, a popular touring slave circus.

​

Zeltros. A beautiful world by any estimation. For years she had looked foreward to their run here, even dreamed of living here someday; but it was different now. Tainted, as if the existence of such a decadent, loving place was nothing but salt in a wound. The bright lights, and distant laughter were a cruel backdrop to the tears of a young girl, a slave.

That evening's final show had long since ended, but music still filled the colorful frieghter, and echoed into the night. Just over a year ago, Diva would likely have been at the center of the celebration, performing her fourth encore to an adoring public. Now, at sixteen, all that carefree joy had been stolen from her. She would likely be whipped for cutting out early, but she had long since grown numb to that, and considered it well worth the moment alone. Pilfered bottle of Kyrf in hand, Diva slumped into a hard to spot nook outside the ship's loading bay.

Her pale forearm made a couple passes at her cheek, trying to smudge away some of thick, wet makeup that had formed a goopy puddle under her eyes. Still wearing her orange and silver leotard with a bright green dressing robe, she must have been a pitiful sight. Diva did not enjoy these fits of self-pity. With a sharp defiant grunt, she bit the cork off her bottle and took two long, deep swallows of the savory liquor. Still a novice to the heavy burn of alchohol, half the second swallow was coughed up immediately, followed by a long, loud string of curses. She rallied herself for swig number 3, which went down without a hitch. Diva's sigh belied relief, and as the smooth calm of the drink began to wash over her, she fished a small pouch out of her robe. The t'bac was old and crumbling, but its stale smell and dry texture were another needed comfort, and she let her head ease back onto the cool metal behind it, while she deftly assembled a thin cigarra in her left hand. Maybe, just maybe, Diva Tumi could salvage a moment of peace out of this day.

 

[Beta12]

Nor'baal's Delights

The holographic display of the infamous Hutt's traveling circus glowed softly in the heavy air of the evening. Smiling faces of performers, both humanoid and very, very alien peered out over the circus grounds. Temporary structures such as platforms and decorated tents stuck out in various places, with a single colorful freighter docked proudly in the middle of it all. Though music could still be heard drifting along the evening breeze from the ship itself, the rest of the area had taken on a vibe that Dyson had seen way too many times in horror holo-flicks. Such an underpopulated space made the youngster uneasy, but the sheer joy plastered on the advertisement before him kept his white boots firmly planted to the ground.

Dyson shouldered his brightly colored foil bag, trying his best to avert his gaze from its reflective surface. His tight blue pants did little to catch the light off the bill-board, but his scaly tank top he was wearing was almost just as bad. The lights themselves reminded him of his first and only time on stage, when he had been a lot happier. It had been years ago, but he could still hear the applause from that night. His mother had been invited to attend one of the circus' performances years back, and had somehow managed to get him to appear on stage with Diva Tumi for his birthday. Though he had done little more than hold up a paddle for the headliner of the show, the sheer attention he had received from his little performance had left him smiling for weeks. If he could have frozen that night and stayed on that stage forever, he might have, but time always had a funny way of knocking him off of his highs. It was no secret that his mother was barely interested in him now, if she ever had been in the first place.

He wasn't smiling as he took his first few steps into the camp, melting into the dimmer lighting of his surroundings. Though he would openly claim not to take horror holo-flicks seriously, the young Zeltron stuck close to one of the few brightly lit paths that lead to the freighter itself. Half expecting to be picked off on his way to the ship, the boy found himself jumping and yelping at almost every dark shadow he came across. By the time he neared the colorful and hulking monstrosity itself, it was obvious that the ship was already closed up for the night.

A small frown crossed his lips in face of the new obstacle, leaving Dyson standing where the docking bay would have allowed him entrance. Despair began to weigh down the young Zeltron as he stared forlornly at the bulk of metal before him. With little left to do, he simply let his bag drop to the ground and chose to take a seat next to it. As his mind began to wander away once more with the memories of his performance, a similar, yet different, presence of despair crept over his mind. Someone else was near-by.

"Krif!" The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood to attention, and the boy began to pan his gaze over his surroundings much more carefully. "Uhm... I mean... hello?"

 

[Diva]

"Shab!" Diva violently squealed in shock as a tiny voice shattered her dirty little bubble of comfort. She was on her feet almost before finishing the word, her back pressed flat against the towering frieghter behind her. Instinctively, she raised the bottle of Kyrf over hear head like a club...the open bottle. A warm splash of liquor fell over her arm, and she lost all control of herself. Leaping from the safety of her nook and howling in rage, she began to flail wildly as though the few ounces of liquid driping down her side was a nest of spiders. "Kriffing Sithspit! Shab Shab Kriff Shab shab SHAB!"

Her shrieks pierced the night light a bolt of plasma, and the echo brought a sudden stillness upon her. She remembered herself, or more specifically, she remembered the horid man she was hiding from. A tense silience replaced the frantic mess from a moment before while Diva considered this voice intruding on her sanctuary. She didn't recognize it, so it wasn't one of the circus voices she had spent her whole life with. It was small. young? maybe. frightened? probably, or lost. Not uncommon. Okay. You can handle this Diva...

"Back off!" Nope, that wasn't it. "erm...Get out!...uugh...no.uhhh... Okay, look. You..can't be back here, the show's over sooo... you got to get out of here." Her breath was now less of a gasp and more of a sharp snort, in and out through her nose. In regaining her confidence she overshot a little and went straight to irritated, Diva did not have the patientce for patrons she once did. It didn't hurt that her left hand, having dropped the cigarra some time ago, found the tiny stun blaster from her act in the oversized pocket of her robe. The gun was like a precious, soothing charm to the girl; and though a weapon she could use better than most, she rarely thought of it that way. Her right hand was still holding the bottle, oops. She quickly tucked it behind her back, and resolutely drew her left hand from her robe, tucking a sticky Kyrf splashed bit of violet hair over the little horns at her temple, and punctuated her nervous warning with something more definite. "Now."

 

[Beta12]

Shab!

Dyson's head sung back toward the freighter with such force that he was sure he had pulled a muscle. His violet eyes darted around the shadowy points of metal as though he expected the thing to come to life and eat him right at the center of the abandoned circus. Though sentient ships were likely the lest of his worries, the suddenness of the noise trumpeting from the darkness before him was enough to override any rational sense of thought. A long whine emanated from the young man's throat, catching the wind like a whistling alarm about to go full blast. There was often little to fear on Zeltros, the mix of fright and shock flying in from the hulking ship was enough to turn his brain to mush.

Kriffing Sithspit! Shab Shab Kriff Shab shab SHAB!

"Ahh!" Sheer horror enveloped the boy's voice as he began to scream. With all higher thought fully thrown out the window, the Zeltron dug his boots into the ground before him and kicked, sending himself scooting backwards along the dirt path. Soon after Dyson twisted his body around and slapped his palms onto the ground before him, using his arms as a fulcrum to propel himself upright into a running gait. The soles of his boots flashed in the dim lighting of the path as he quickly traced his steps back to one of the many abandoned tents circling the large and colorful freighter. In holo-flicks, it was always the one who ran the longest that died first, however that logic meant little considering he was the only person in the area. Could freighters eat tents?

Silence enveloped the area once more, causing Dyson's heavy breathing to seem even louder by contrast. His heart beat against his ribs so hard that he was worried he was going to break one. Despite his fright moments before, the adrenaline coursing in his veins slowly began to dissipate. The more the boy thought about the situation itself, the weirder it became. He had never known a freighter to sequel in such a feminine manner, or really squeal at all for that matter.

Back off! erm...Get out!...uugh...no.uhhh... Okay, look. You..can't be back here, the show's over sooo... you got to get out of here.

Dyson's body tensed at the return of the voice, but the decidedly confused tone of it soon left the Zeltron more confused then scared. A breathy laugh escaped his lips as the absurdity of the situation caught up with him. The fact that he had thought a ship was going to eat him in the first place reminded him that he should probably hold-off on the horror flicks for at least a while.

"Uh.." It wasn't much, but it was more than the screams he had been tossing back before. With a little bit of bravery instilled in him once more the Zeltron left the tent and slowly made his way back to the freighter itself. Though it was hard to make out much of anything in the shadows left by the ship itself, the young man swore he could almost make out a silhouette that hadn't been there before.

Now.

The voice was a bit more forceful this time, so Dyson responded with a bit of force himself. "I.. I've performed here before!" His tone was rather aggravated for someone who expected to be recognized after having performed in the show once as a kid, but he kept it non-the-less. "I'm sure someone remembers me here! I've come to join this show full time. I know lots of tricks, like how to win at dice, and I can do this!" Unsure if he could actually be seen or not, the young Zeltron quickly attempted a small cartwheel, before promptly spinning out of control and falling flat on his face. "That wasn't suppose to happen.." He assured the mysterious voice between mouthfuls of dust, the sting of pride broken fresh in his voice.

 

[Diva]

I.. I've performed here before!
I'm sure someone remembers me here!

Ugh. What fresh hell could this be? Kriiiffff. Whatever it was kicking up dirt by the tents, it sounded definetly childish, and ultimately harmless. Still, it was something, which was much more than she had wanted. Her hand audibly collided with her forhead and the sound she made could only be decribed as half grunt, half sigh. Now what? Maybe some kid from the youth choir they used that one time? Or the pre show kids thing Juji does....ugh. What.ever.

I've come to join this show full time. I know lots of tricks, like how to win at dice, and I can do this!

Wants to join the circus, too? not the first time she had heard that one, but tonight it felt particularly offensive. They may not be chained, and were even kept well enough, but they were still owned. Still property. Something that had been made all too clear to Diva over the past year. Suddenly, her mother's final warning crawled its way back into the front of her mind....Diva dragged her palm across her scalp and tugged mercelessly at her wild, knotty mane of violet to resharpen her focus, when...

That wasn't suppose to happen..

Then something else happened that wasn't supposed to. Diva's angsty fit of annoyance was blindsided by a pink thing spinning out of the darkness with unmatchable enthusiasm, only to land without an ounce of grace in an explosion of dirt. Diva had always been amazed by the clowns in the circus. She was as good an entertainer as they come, and could tell a joke with the best of em, but the clowns always managed something that eluded her. Perfectly chroegraphed madness, amazing physical skill, but done in such a way that every moment seemed a completely honest accident, perpurtrated by a total innocent. Diva loved watching them, and had been for years, so now she was hard to suprise, especially if she didn't want to be; but a little Zeltron in a ludicrous tank top flying through the night into the waiting arms of the ground did the job. All her compsure was lost, and completely in spite of herself Diva's orange eyes grew bright as she fell into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

".....Oh frazz!... are you..heheeeheh...Are you...teeeeeheeeeeheeehahahahahahahahaaahaha"

She tried to show polite concern, but the laughter was overhwelming. It was the first time she had in a long, long while All the tension she had been clinging to was finally allowed to break free as she convulsed with giggles. Eventually she could no longer stand, and collapsed into a crosslegged sit, absentmindedly squeezing the bottle of Kyrf to her chest as thought it were a stuffed toy. Then, after Diva was forced to gasp for air, all that fear and loathing and anger, and sorrow hidden in her coiled muscles exploded forward; and just as quickly as it started, her laughter turned into ugly, unstopable sobs. The release was cathartic and startling, but in the end welcome. Diva couldn't pause long enought to feel ashamed, so she just satand sobbed, then laughed, then sobbed, then laughed, then seemed to do both at the same time. After a minute she breathlessly choked out a few words.

"...Oh!....oh... Holy Star Shad......woah."

 

[Beta12]

Coils of dust gently drifted back down toward the ground as Dyson settled into his new position on his stomach. His clothes were likely covered in dirt now, but that did little to faze him. His eyes had finally adjusted enough to the bulk of the freighter to pick out the source of the noise itself. A girl in a type of leotard and robe had pressed herself up by what was likely one of the entrances to the ship, at least a docking bay. She was almost as colorful as him, but in a way that advertised the fact that she wasn't a Zeltron. The hair was close enough, but the skin, freckles, and horns were definitely not. Dyson didn't know what he expected from the voice in the darkness, but he hadn't expected her to be so familiar.

....Oh frazz!... are you..heheeeheh...Are you...teeeeeheeeeeheeehahahahahahahahaaahaha

The idle threats had all but vanished as the girl fell into a fit of laughter. Despite the hilarity of his accident, the force at which the laughter came out made the young Zeltron a little uncomfortable. There was a lot of... stuff... behind whatever was going on, stuff that Dyson couldn't quite place. Instead of pipping up and ruining the torrent of emotion, he decided to simply stay in his position and watch the events before him unfold. Laughter continued to wrack her body, and just as Dyson began to pick himself off the ground, she sat down, leaving her laughter to develop into powerful sobs.

...Oh!....oh... Holy Star Shad......woah.

"Uh..." He was at that point as eloquent in speech as he was cartwheeling. Dyson dusted off the bigger dirt stains on his pants and watched the girl before him was a much more focused gaze. "Are... you..?" The question hung in the air as he began to piece all of her features together. The hair, the skin, the dots, the horns, just about everything screamed Theelin. "Diva Tumi?" The Zeltron's violet eyes lit up in surprise as he began to solve the laughing and sobbing puzzle before him. "You are!" He had performed in this circus before, and with this performer specifically.

Once again without putting much thought into the fact that he had just been threatened, the young Zeltron took a few steps forward. He spoke up once more as he gazed down at the girl. "I'm Dyson Chanzot, you... uh.. remember me right?" A nervous smile plastered its way along the boy's face. The last and only time he had performed had been years ago, and a famous performer like Diva Tumi had done many shows since. Still, that small flicker of hope burned brightly in his puffed out chest. His dark red hair blew about gently in the evening breeze, and suddenly the Zeltron was aware of the environment around him once more. "Also.. what are you doing out here in the dark?" It was an honest question, but the same could be asked of him just as easily.

 

[Diva]

"Diva Tumi?"
It can be said, that when one spends their whole life performing, one becomes accustomed to being on display for strangers. Perhaps for this reason Diva seemed uncharacteristically shameless in the aftermath of her emotional outburst, or perhaps she was herself too stunned to care; but whatever it was, the only evidence of her brief breakdown was the pastiche of glitter and eyeliner streaking her cheeks. Upon hearing her name Diva's head popped up, eyebrow cocked, as if she had only been reading the news ticker on holonet. "Eh?"

"You are!"

Still, obviously a little dazed, Diva scrutinized the little pink humanoid as though she had never seen him before, let alone laughed to the point of emotional catastrophe at his expense less than a minute prior. She always thought zeltrons were pretty, then again so did the rest of the galaxy. There was a certian comraderie she always felt with the other over sexualized and objectified races. Human's were so gross, like Hutts, but with a less honest exterior. Back to reality... Diva was just considering a response, when instead she ended up in an over dramatic frown.

"I'm Dyson Chanzot, you... uh.. remember me right?"

Marvelous. Not just a fan.. he thinks he KNOWS her. Seriously? He doesn't look like that little pink girl from the last show.... For a moment, Diva gave up, and took a long awaited fourth swig of her Kyrf, her grumpy orange eyes glaring at Dyson over the bottle. Shad. His eyes. Well suck on a Hutt's tongue, she actually recognized him. He was that polotician's kid...Chanzot... yeah! She had liked him, he was no less enthusiastic then than he is this evening, and he had in fact left a pleasant impression on the much less tormented theelin that shot his name in a paddle only a year ago. More than that she remembered meeting his mother; who, when they met to discuss surprising her son, seemed more interested in making sure Diva accomedate the camera crew for publicity. Diva did not like her as much. Still, color her stunned, she remembered him. The most she could muster was a squinty stare and a stupid look before:

"Also.. what are you doing out here in the dark?"

"I could ask you the same thing, MISTER Chanzot. hrmph" She replied refelxively, defensively, punctuating "mister" with a sitting mock bow, and her eyes nearly rolling rout out of her head as she grunted. Is she buzzed? Diva couldn't tell. This was the first time she had ever drank. THAT was what she was doing out here...that and oh yeah. What she had done before, albiet only for a few weeks, was smoke t'bac. Most people in the circus did, and honestly it was stunning that it took her so long to reach for vices. Still, where had she dropped that thing? Without warning, and now starting to feel a little more herself, and quite energized infact by the euphoric weep she just had, she started hunting for the cigarra she had rolled. Her wild violet mane whipped back and forth as she scuttled around on all four for a few second, before... "Aha!" As soon as it was safely tucked in her mouth she patted herself down for a lighter. The fruitless result of that search was written rather plainly on her freckled brow. "Sithspit..." Defeated, Diva looked back to Dyson, and FINALLY seemed to really see him. Incredulous, and eager, this kid was staring at her with stars in his eyes and here she was...well, look at her. She sighed, long and full, as though it could wash awaythe last five minutes, and for the second time in several months -- both of which in the last five minutes, and both due to this crazy zeltron-- she smiled. Wryley, to be sure, but it meant more to her than this boy could ever know.

"Yeah guy, I remember you. Got a light?"

 

[Beta12]

I could ask you the same thing, MISTER Chanzot. hrmph

A cool smile crossed the boy's face in response to the recognition he received. He didn't particularly care for his last name, it belonging to his mother, he still marveled at the fact that someone so famous would recognize him so quickly. Though his first and only performance had been short, it had been about as thrilling as his current trip to the circus grounds. There weren't crowds to scream his or his mothers praises at the moment, but the thrill of combing through abandoned tents in the middle of the night made up for it in terms of excitement. Diva seemed a lot less excited about their current encounter, which might have easily been explained considering that she was operating on "off" hours.

Dyson cocked his head to the right and raised and eyebrow as the star before him descended on all fours and began to search the ground for something. The entire area by now was permeated with the light scent of alcohol. The boy couldn't discern which, mostly because the smell of alcohol was one of the many common things experienced on his home planet. Zeltros was a planet dedicated to having a good time after-all, so even a young Zeltron such as himself had been around that life for years.

Aha! Sithspit.. Yeah guy, I remember you. Got a light?

It took Dyson a minute to realize that Diva Tumi was holding a t'bac cigarra in her hands. Though his own mother smoked them regularly, the young Zeltron himself had yet to develop a taste for them. However, that really didn't matter considering that it was the Diva Tumi he was talking to. "Uh yeah." The smile on Dyson's face became a grin as he turned around and reached down for the foil bag that he had earlier dropped on the ground. It was mostly filled with clothes and other bobbles, but toward the bottom of the pack itself was a single lighter that he had snatched from his mother's office. He had never used it for t'bac, or anything for that matter, but it was a prize none-the-less. "Here."

The Zeltron took a few cautious steps toward the Theelin and pressed his thumb down on the small metal cylinder in his hand. A manageable flame erupted from it almost instantly and licked at the cold night air around them, making both his skin and hair shine in the pale orange light. Without asking for permission, Dyson leaned in toward the girl before him and held the flame up to the end of the cigarra farthest away from the girls mouth. A small coil of smoke reached up into the night as soon as the t'bac ignited, causing the young Zeltron to bring the lighter itself away. "So... uh. Do you think they will let me join?" Though his voice remained confident, his posture was anything but.

 

[Diva]

"No."
She shot the word past her cigarra like a dart, straight and sharp. Behind the veil of smoke, her sienna eyes burned at the suggestiion. Without appology, Diva gave the sudden tesnion time to sit over a long deep inhale. Romanticising the cirucs was nothing new to her. She'd dealt with plenty of over giddy patrons, and even being born into she couldn't deny the years she had spent imagining her lifestyle as the best in any galaxy. Room and board were paid for, days and nights were filled with music, dancing and celebration; but eventually they all had to face the truth: they were owned. Slaves, who traded their freedom, and that of their children so they could garuntee themselves food and a bed. Too often, that reality became cold and painful very quickly. Diva bristled like a cat at the very thought of it. How could Dyson understand?

"Why would you want to join the circus, kid? It's not all cartwheels and applause..."

 

[Beta12]

No.

The dart itself was enough to punch through Dyson's ego and begin to deflate it, if only slightly. It wasn't the first time someone had told him no, but the sting from it was far different than what he was use to. It was easy to hate his mother when she kept him from the things he was interested in. It had become even easier to hate her assistants for trying to raise him in a half decent manner. However, being shot down by one of the main attractions of the circus he had been interested in seemed to top the cake. Dyson couldn't exactly hate the gruff circus girl for her response, and the inability to react so quickly and harshly left him with little else but confusion.

Why would you want to join the circus, kid? It's not all cartwheels and applause...

It was an honest question, and something the Zeltron should have rehearsed before making his way to the circus grounds in the first place. "Well. That's a good question." After staring at the Theelin for a few awkward moments, the boy seemed to realize that answering the question would probably be the best way to go about things. "I mean... you guys get to perform all the time... travel.. party..." Though travel wasn't a top priority on his list of things to do, being twelve, the idea of getting out of his mother's house was enough to get him to consider anything.

"Look." Dyson threw his hands up, taking a few confident steps away from Diva and back toward the bag he had once again left in the dust. "I just.. want to get out of here, you know?" The boy's words became a bit strained, and hands that were once in the air now drifted into his pockets. "You don't even have to tell anyone I'm here, just open up one of those hatches and let me sneak in. I could make it.. worth your while." Cheeky wink aside, Dyson pulled a couple of credit chips from his pockets. Though he wasn't considered old enough to hold his own job, his mother had left plenty of spare change lying around the house.

 

[Diva]

I mean... you guys get to perform all the time... travel.. party...

"HA!"
In this particular case Diva truly did not mean to be cruel, but how could she not? There was no way she could possibly convey the horor she had been forced to endure over the last two years to him. Besides, running away was and impulse she could at least identify with. He could only be 3-4 years her junior, but for the first time, and at 16, Diva felt ancient. She must have looked it too, huddled over herself cross-legged on the ground, brow furrowed at Dyson as she took another sip of kyrf that went down with an uncommon ease considering it was her fifth ever sip of liquor. A small and very neat pile of ash forming between her feet, as she continued to smoke her cigarra in a steady an practiced rythm. Truly in this moment, as she began to understand her mother's attraction to fermented beverages, her eyes were like a terryfing lense into a possible furture if she never escaped this life.

I could make it.. worth your while.

Diva seemed suddenly aware of this grim prophecy as a small pile of credits hit the dirt infront of her. She snapped to attention like a hungry dog with fresh meat thrown before it. Her burning orange eyes flicking back and forth between this politician's son, and the money he had so casually thrown at her feet, trying to determine if this was a trick or not. Diva had never had her own money. She wasn't permitted, none of them were. They had nice things, and Diva in particular had quite a collection of expensive gifts...but if anyone was found hording credits, they would be whipped. Diva however, had long since grown numb to the lash of Viros' whip. Her mind was racing. There were rumors that the circus was being sold...what that meant she couldn't know, but any amount of credits seemed like at least a thin thread of a lifeline, just a shard of hope.

A low growl escaped her purple lips as she finally gave in. Setting the bottle down in their place, Diva swiped the credits up with one hand and held them close, defensively. She could only imagine how ugly she must seem in this moment, taking money from a 12 year old filled with nothing but comendable ignorance and big dreams. Diva had made her choice. The first in a long, long line of moral compromise that would define her fight to survive in the months and years to come. With a weighty pull on her cigarra, the reality of all this settled in. Finally, she turned a sympathetic eye toward Dyson, and gestured to the bottle with a nod.

"You wanna party...Dyson,right?... there you go."

Another drag of her cigarra. Her tone darkened so much that she was visibly shocked by it herself. She might never have spoken as honestly as she was about to.

"I'm gonna tell you the truth here Guy, because I...well I believe you. We aren't allowed to talk about it with patrons, and it sure as Hutt shad ain't on the posters....but we're slaves here. A lot more comfortable than most slaves, sure....but we are slaves. Do you understand what that means?"

Slaves. Saying the word out loud, and to another person took a clear toll on her. By the end she had to quickly turn back to the cigarra to quell another stream of tears and keep her temper even. Another freak out was the last thing she or this kid needed at themoment.

 

[Beta12]

Dyson watched with bated breath as Diva Tumi eyed the credits before her, instantly regretting his decision. The moment the currency hit the dirt, the atmosphere around the two change. The air itself felt ... hungry ..... which felt like one of the few words the boy could use to describe the situation unfolding before him. Sure, he had gone a day without food back when he was young and his mother had spent too much time at work, but that sensation was small time compared to what was crawling up his skin and into his brain. "Oh.. uh.." He could really only mumble as the Theelin set her alcohol aside and swiped the chips from the floor. The amount he had stolen was change compared to what his mother kept in her personal accounts, leaving his eyes fully focused on the girl before her.

You wanna party...Dyson,right?... there you go.

With the invitation in hand, the Zeltron quickly bent down and scooped up the bottle, bringing the glass to his nose before he brought it too his lips. The smell was absolutely foreign to him, but from the way it stung his nose he could already tell it would take more than that to do the job properly. He may have been young, but the two livers inside of his body had developed long before the rest of him began to catch up. Instead of being rude and rejecting the offer, Dyson chose instead to sit back down in the dirt with the bottle in hand.

I'm gonna tell you the truth here Guy, because I...well I believe you. We aren't allowed to talk about it with patrons, and it sure as Hutt shad ain't on the posters....but we're slaves here. A lot more comfortable than most slaves, sure....but we are slaves. Do you understand what that means?

"Oh." His voice was much softer now, carrying only a fraction of the weight the words before his did. The life he lived was as free as he wanted it to be, the freedom in itself being what sent him spiraling into the situation he encountered now. In hindsight, compared to the girl he had just happened upon, his life seemed pretty relaxed. He didn't have a father, or much of a mother, but he couldn't say he ever wanted for something. "I... didn't know... " The words came slowly and honestly. If Dyson lacked anything, it was surely experience and especially wisdom. Never-the-less, the boy scooted along the dirt to gain a position closer to Diva.

"I could get more." Judging by the reaction Diva had by the mere site of credits, he payed extra attention to make sure he didn't talk about it out loud. "You don't have to be anything you don't want to be. I mean, my mom wants me to end up like her one day." Dyson wrinkled his nose at his words as they left his mouth. "Besides, if there is any better place to disappear, it's here." A grin that betrayed his innocence crossed over the young Zeltron's mouth, as he turned his gaze away from Diva and back to the dirt. "I'd drink it, but it wouldn't do anything." He set the bottle onto the ground before him, the glass itself reflecting light onto his white boots.

 

[Diva]

The last inch of cigarra clung to her bottom lip for dear life as her whole face went slack, stupidified by the tidal wave of naivite that had just washed over her. How did this boy exist? Diva looked to the sky, the dust, the glowing skyline in the distance, searching for where this cruel test of fate came from. Could he really think it was that simple? Diva felt ancient, feeble by comparison. She was young enough to remember that sort of optimism, and the memory now felt like a worm eating through her guts. After a moment's pause, all she could do was repeat Dyson's words back to in disbelief.

I don't have to be anything I don't want to be?

Breathing bbecame tense, and she forced her eyes to the ground. Somewhere was a voice reminding her she kind of liked this kid, or perhaps it was just the weight of his credits in her hand, but she knew eye contact would only aggrivate her, and she didn't want to disturb him anymore. After an attempt to slow her breath she tucked the credits in her right robe pocket, and plucked the damp reminants of her thinly rolled cigarra from her mouth, flicking it with a nonchalance that only made it more spectacular when it ricocheted cleanly of the lip op the bottle and shot up in the air and off to the right. Still unable to addres the topic directly, she bought herself another moment to think.

What it would do, young sir [a common adress she used with the younger audience members guest staring in her act, and certianly used for Dyson] is show some manners, so drink.

Her tone was strained between cordial invitation and command. Diva shook her head in an effort to clear it, but instead the jingle of credits in her pocket was a sharp reminder of the circumstance. He had offered her MORE. Guilt, shame, rage, guilt, shame, rage... She thrust her palms against her temples and began rubiing the base of her horns furiously, eyes rolled back a bit searching for some pacifying thing to focus on.

Slave, Dyson, means I can't do what I want to, I have to always do EXACTLY what that asshole in there....

To her credit she had started speaking with a calm, reassuring tone, but she could not finish with one. She was successful in staving off the fit of tears and screaming this time, and only managed to punch the dirt with both fist. A forceful grunt cleared away what was left. Diva huffed, now completdly exasperated, and wiped more of the makeup cake from her cheeks. Leveling her gaze with Dyson's, she reached a treaty of sorts with her temper. Realizing what she could offer Dyson, she leaned in to make her appeal.

....but you. You can do what you want. Offer me more money? I'm stealing these credits from you, kid. Taking them because you can't stop me. Take that from me. A lesson. You can do what you want, so do it! Take what you want when you can take it and stay alive!

Once again Diva stunned herself with the epiphany brought on by this well meaning little snot, and lept to her feet to avoid it. She scoured her pockets of t'bacc, and began rolling another cigarra as she paced in a wide slow circle.

 

[Beta12]

I don't have to be anything I don't want to be?

The Zeltron squirmed in his seated position, making sure to keep eyes eyes off of Diva as she spoke. The air between them had become so tense that he could have used it to suspend a bridge. The boy had definitely stepped on some toes, but he had no idea which. The concept of being a slave was so far beyond him that he had never considered the implications until that night. He had always been free to do as he pleased, at least from what he could remember, and any sort of authoritative structure left him more rebellious than compliant. Though There was little to do but sit quietly as the star silently fumed to his right.

What it would do, young sir, is show some manners, so drink.

The world came back into focus as the remnants of the star's cigarra pinged from the top of the bottle and shot off into the cloak of night that surrounded them. She may have had a point, but the demand itself brought a little heat to his pink cheeks. For the first time in a few minutes, Dyson brought his violet gaze back to the violet girl beside him. There was still... a lot.. going on underneath her thick purple hair and horns, but it was far too potent for the boy to gather anything concrete. Instead of speaking, he simply reached over to where he had placed the bottle, scooped it up from the dirt, brought the bottle to his lips, and took a deep draw from the alcohol inside of it. The taste was bitter, cheap, and as he expected far less potent than what he would snatch from his mother's liquor cabinet.

Slave, Dyson, means I can't do what I want to, I have to always do EXACTLY what that asshole in there....

A sizable cloud of dust tore into the air before the two, as her fists collided with the ground, sending Dyson's gaze whirling about their immediate area. Though the noise she had made wasn't loud, and he wasn't proud to admit it, the darkness surrounding the freighter was still enough to make his skin crawl. By the time his head had turned back toward Diva's direction, her face was now much closer to his. The force at which his stomach dropped left his head reeling, but the look on the Theelin's face kept him glued to his seat.

....but you. You can do what you want. Offer me more money? I'm stealing these credits from you, kid. Taking them because you can't stop me. Take that from me. A lesson. You can do what you want, so do it! Take what you want when you can take it and stay alive!

A frown crossed the boys face at the idea of her having stolen his credits, when he had freely given him. While she might have been trying to maintain some sot of image, Dyson had been too far removed from circus folk to understand exactly what was going on. However, the words that followed brought Dyson to bite his lip and furrow his brows. He really didn't need to steal or take anything to survive, but having his own advice thrown back into his face left his own reeling mind even more jumbled than before. His mother, her staff, and even his teachers had ordered him around his entire life.

"Krif.." Ever eloquent with his words, the boy simply stared at Diva as she got up and began to pace the area in a wide circle, busying herself with another cigarra. Dyson lifted the bottle in his hand back to his mouth and took a much smaller sip. The two livers inside his body would be sapping away the alcohol from his blood long before he would feel the affects of what he was drinking. With that in mind, the Zeltron set the bottle back down onto the dirt before him and stood to join Diva.

Dyson shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You... uh.. still do that paddle trick?" Though his part in her performance had been small, he still liked to think that he had helped make it a sensation. Pride was not absent from his tone as he continued. "I am sure you've had great shows, but the ones you have on Zeltros have to be the best. I mean... everyone loves everything here. You don't even have to try." Dyson cocked his head to the side and looked off into the inky blackness of the right, a small frown tugged at the corner of his lips. "Not to say that you don't try on other planets. What.... what's it like on other planets?" His mother had never bothered to take him anywhere, and though he had access to information of the galaxy beyond, he had lived every single day of his life on Zeltros. "I mean, you did grow up somewhere right?" A small laugh left him as he turned his attention back toward the girl before him.

 

[Diva]

And there he was again, right at her heels. He heard her, he thought about it for a second, and moved on in only the way a 12 year old could. He had won. All Diva's rage, and fear couldn't stand up to this little Zeltron's mindless tenacity. She laughed. Diva Tumi laughed a healthy laugh and her eyes twinkled like little suns. She twirled in surrender to her more pleasant instincts, and shook her head at Dyson once more, but with a smile and a sigh of relief. Her voice was light now, playful, tender, and mischevious; perhaps much the way Dyson remembered it when he had joined her in the center ring.

Nope. I grew up right in this frieghter....buuut... I guess you could say I grew up on a hundred worlds... Diva leaned in close as if sharing a precious secret ... and they are all absolutely wonderful!

She giggled and skipped coyly away. It was true of course. Just because Viros had tainted it didn't make it not true. Diva Tumi had seen most of the inhabbited galaxy; and it was wonderful. She shook her head again, this time just to feel her wild violet mane flop from side to side.

You are right though.. Zeltros has always been one of my favorites.

Her smirk taunted Dyson with his own pride. She was begining to hit her stride.

....Furthermore, Senator Chatty Chanzot, I still do the paddle trick, but that's just a novelty act for tiny little kids...

It was as if teasing the little pink Zeltron was a wellspring in the desert. Diva's mock stoicism was now a thin mask over her growing delight. She had an idea..

If you wanna help me with a real trick take this - she licked the cigera with enthusiasm to seal it -and go stand a couple meters off...

Her grin seemed to touch her horns. Diva jabbed the finished cigera insistantly at his chest, as her left hand produced the tiny show pistol she had tucked in her robe.

 

[Beta12]

Nope. I grew up right in this frieghter....buuut... I guess you could say I grew up on a hundred worlds... ... and they are all absolutely wonderful!

The thought of growing up in the cold steel of a space freighter was an idea completely foreign to the young Zeltron, if not a bit horrifying. Zeltros itself was packed with people, resorts, and all sorts of civilized life, but Dyson still appreciated the feeling of grass, the sound of rustling leaves, and ability to make shapes out of the various ships and clouds hovering in the sky. Despite how dull such a life must have been at times, the countless worlds that it lead to surely must have made up for it. Worlds comprised entirely of deserts, oceans, and forests were only a few of the enticing examples he had learned about during his time in education.

You are right though.. Zeltros has always been one of my favorites.

Now that brought a smirk to the boy's face. Zeltros was a luxury world, and had been as far back as anyone could remember. It had become popular for a variety of reasons, including its spot on a major hyperspace lane, its proximity to the core worlds, and the inhabitants that lived on it. Countless humanoids frequented Zeltros for the parties, the pleasure, and the general experience of going to a planet where it was almost a requirement to have a good time. Though some of the swankier areas of the planet were available only to the rich, the fact that the planet itself was almost constantly in a state of celebration made it so anyone could enjoy the bounty that it had to offer.

....Furthermore, Senator Chatty Chanzot, I still do the paddle trick, but that's just a novelty act for tiny little kids...

Dyson could feel heat rush to his cheeks at both the nickname and the casual description of his performance in the circus. His mother's name was Charon, and even if Diva hadn't meant to make the comparison it was still enough to leave a bad taste in the boys mouth. She sure was chatty, and perhaps that was were he had inherited his skills in language. However, being associated with small children was what really made the boy's skin crawl. Children had to be taken care of by adults, Dyson was more than confident in his ability to handle himself, after all that is why he had run off to join the circus in the first place.

If you wanna help me with a real trick take this and go stand a couple meters off...

"Alright..." The response came without hesitation, as the slender cigarra came into his hand. He had never smoked t'bac himself, due to the fact that the smell was enough to make him wrinkle his nose. His eyes drifted along the folded paper as he made his way away from the purple haired circus star. He had an idea of what she was about to do, but how she was going to go about it was still a completely mystery to him. That mystery soon became revealed when he turned back toward Diva and noticed the small firearm in her hand.

"Oh boy." A devilish grin spread across his face. He had never handled any sort of firearm in his life, but the idea that he was about to be near the receiving end of one cause his heart to bang against his chest. After a few moments of thinking out what his side of the trick would entail, the boy took initiative and stretched his arm out to his side, holding the cigara up in the air with his index finger and his thumb. If she planned to shoot at the stick of t'bac itself, Dyson really wasn't up for being the headboard that caught the rest of the shock.

"That thing doesn't kill people right?" A small laugh left his mouth after the question, but there was a slight edge to his tone. If he wanted to have his hand barbecued he could have easily made his way to one of the many restaurants in the near-by city. The cigarra stayed in its spot despite the question, his arm confidentially outstretched to hold the minuscule weight of the item.

 

[Diva]

(OOC: So sorry for the several day hold up. I got really ill and had technical work all weekend)


"Oh boy." ....and stretched his arm out to his side, holding the cigara up in the air with his index finger and his thumb.

No no no silly Zeltron, that's a cigerra, we hold that... in. our. lips. With each word, Diva plucked her bottom lip with an exagerted curl of her index finger. The corners of her mouth twisted into a wicked grin and her high, devilish giggle matched it. She threw her arms stright into the air and snaped to attention. Then, piking cleanly at the hips, her free hand swept grandly to the ground and scooped up the Kryf bottle from the ground, dragging it in the dirt a little to kick up some dusty pyrotechnics. Swiveling a perfect 180 degrees on her heel, she began counting paces away, heel to toe, and exagerated the swing of her hip, as if balancing on a tightrope, part of her signature act.

"That thing doesn't kill people right?"

1,2,3,4.... Relax!...6,7,8....It only hurts if I miss....12,13,14,15....are you saying I might miss....20

The challenge was issued, deliberately exploiting the young boy's admiration for her. This time she uped the ante'. After twirling around twice, she landed facing Dyson and sent him a devious wink while pouring an enourmous gulp of liquor down her throat.

Now, don't move a muscle...

 

[Beta12]

Dyson could feel goosebumps rising on his arms as Diva walked away from him, strutting as though they were performing in front of a live audience at that very moment. A small breeze whistled against one of the more obtuse parts of the freighter, drawing out a hiss reminiscent of an audience itself trying to remain as quiet as possible. It was a show pistol, as far as he knew, but that didn't stop his stomach from doing somersaults. The Zeltron could only really offer a small gulp as he retracted his hand back toward his mouth, and let the cigarra hang loosely from his lips.

Now, don't move a muscle...

The Zeltron stood as stiff as a board, as soon as she commanded him too. If there was one thing he wasn't looking forward too tonight, it would have to have been getting shot in the face with a stun bolt. He would have mumbled something, tried to reaffirm that his hair wouldn't be set on fire or something equally as disastrous, but he was far too untrained to speak as well as balance a cigarra in his mouth. Though he doubted it would leave any lasting damage, the idea of loosing his money maker while he was so young gave his goosebumps goosebumps.

Diva twirled a couple of times, just like she use to in her shows on Zeltros, but the gulp of liquor was something new. Dyson had no idea how impaired she actually was. He had managed to surprise her while drinking, she had been drinking a bit while they had talked, and she was drinking now. Judging by the fact that she was not a Zeltron, there was a decent chance she might miss the shot. Despite his growing worry, there was little he could do now. With her finger on the trigger, all the boy could really do was stare at her winking face, right at the other end of the barrel pointed toward him.

EDIT: ((No big deal! We all have things to do off the site. :) ))

 

[Diva]

Relax Dyson.

A warm reassuring tone took the edge off her otherwise cavalier attitude. Flinching was the one thing she couldn't completely control, and the skill to sooth with her voice had become well developed to compensate. Both her arms stretched out infront of her -one with a bottle, the other a gun- and she took turns winking between eyes to line up the target with her thumbs.

Now on the count of three...inhale. 1...2...

As she counted, she began to swing the bottle back and forth at her side. After two, she squatted as her arm went back, and poppod up to add to the forward momentum. The bottle was released from an underhand toss, and, leaving a stream of liquor behind it, sailed in a high arch over Dyson's head. Diva did not dwell on it, but instead continued her own forward motion, and made use of her now free hand to launch into a twisting forward handspring. In the few seconds she spent airborne, she rotated 180 degrees. Her legs fanned out as she descended and slid into a full split upon landing. Torso still in motion, her back flatened and layed down on her rear leg, head tilted so she could now see Dyson upside down. The pistol followed and the inverted barrel was resting on her back heel before she said..

3.

*PEW*

A little blue stun bolt zipped through the air, grazing the very last milimeter of the cigarra before continuing to it's true target. The bottle of Kryf had nearly completed it's trajectory, and was now about to meet the ground a several safe meters past where a no-doubt stupified Dyson was standing. As the blaster shot intercepted it, the spectacular shattering of glass was accompanied by the bright flash of igniting liquor. Diva could barely contain herself, and clumsily rolled out of her complex contortion in a fit of giggles. Her orange eyes were wide and fixed on her little pink helper, greedily awaiting his reaction.

 

[Beta12]

Dyson's breath caught in his throat as Diva began to count down. What seemed like a simple trick at first became complicated enough to leave the boy's violet eyes darting in every direction. The dull bottle of kyrf he had shared with the star was tossed in a wide arch over him; however, his own gaze remained on Diva as she began to twist and turn, performing a small stint of acrobatics before the inevitable shot toward Dyson's face and cigarra. Having watched the girl a bit more closely than he'd like to admit, the Zeltron was completely caught off guard when the stun bolt zipped right past the cigarra and his face. "What?"

The cigarra fell from the boy's lips as he jerked his head over his shoulder, just in time to catch the small fireball brought about by the stun bolts collision with the liquor. Dyson had never been the target, but the sheer anticipation of being blasted in the face had left him with goosebumps regardless. "Whoa." A broad grin crossed his face immediately after he realized what happened, wide enough that his teeth sparkled in the dim circle of light they occupied. "That was so kriffing cool!" His voice caught and cracked slightly as his head turned his head back to Diva. "How do you even do that with your body!?" While he had seen his fair share of contortionists, having lived on Zeltros, he had never been able to hound one with questions. "Aren't you scared you will break something?"

"I just..." A small frown crossed the boys lips, and his gaze turned back once more to the now shattered bottle of liquor sitting in the dust. "Do you want another one of those...? My mom has lots." Despite being the son of a politician, or perhaps because of it, the young Zeltron was always up to a little mischief. "My house isn't that far away. Besides, you look like you could get out more." His grin was tempered by a softer smile as he focused his gaze back on Diva. After that stunt, he was convinced that he was going to become her friend.