Ingenuity in a Jar

''Professor Pimp'ah, where do you get inspiration for all your books?'' a tall journalist asked, getting ready to jot anything the Celegian might utter, clutching his datapad firmly in his hand. The press conference lasted much longer than the professor anticipated initially, all this hectic questioning tiring him, as he resumed to float steadily inside the container that sustained his being. One of his long tentacles twitched slightly, causing feeble steering of the semiliquid gas that filled the jar that witheld his soft body.

''I observe. Something many of you forgotten how to do.'' a voice from the comm sounded, a very special vocalizing machine transforming his neural waves into speech that eveybody could hear. As a Celegian, he had only telepathy at his disposal as a way to communicate with his surroundings, but he had it reserved for more informal ocassions and more personal approach. As soon as Pimp'ah replied, another man stood up and raised his hand, obviously having yet another question for the famed author of thriller novels.

''Is it true that you secretly fund certain paramilitary organisations and thus support terrorism as such?'' the man inquired, passive hostility evident in his tone. The Celegian felt a surge of anger flush down his gelationus physique, wishing he had fists to physically harm the man who dared to come to his own press conference and insult him like this. However, the public always asked themselves what the rich did with all that spare money they had, regardless to the fact it was none of their business where the money went in the first place.

''No, as a matter of fact, I used every single credit I ever had to wipe the faeces off my rear end. Taking into consideration that my monetary property is estimated to about seven trillion credits in numerous banks, I would wash my hands every time after I payed for a beer if I were you.'' Pimp'ah replied calmly, the piercing sarcasm evident in his tone. The media crowd bursted into laughter, as the Celegian grunted to himself, turning slightly in his container to face one of the guards.

Take me out of here. This press conference is over.

The book bag bounced on his back.

A silence slept in the halls, and he politely walked over it. Touches of grace accented his step, slickness swept his saunter, and he smiled. It wasn't the halls that made him smile. No, these were the dreaded halls of school and he hated school. Instead, it was the music. Plugged in his ears were the newest, freshest jams. An optimism beat at his feet, and he moved to the music.

I'nu was a mutt, but his parents weren't strange. They wanted him to get an education. Over the pass few years he got a little bit. He wasn't interested in school. It had always been boring. Not that he ever got bad grades, just there was no pull in a lecture. Some odd ball sat infront of the class, chattered away, and he jotted down info until the professor gave the last nod.

It was a sad life, being a student.

Good thing he wasn't one of those. All he was on Coruscant for was a stop. His parents wanted him to check out the campus, look at the classes a bit, just entertain the thought. He was entertaining different thoughts, though. A few girls had passed, and his eyes went straying pass.

Before he knew it, he was behind them, smiling like a big goof-ball. Then, they looked back. He played it off. I'nu could be smooth, at least when he wanted to be. They didn't suspect a thing. Yet, he was in a bad situation. Stuck up against the wall, pretending like he was looking into a class, he watched as a big, ugly, weird-looking brain hover in a jar coming his way.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

"Frag," he cursed, backing up a bit. Surprise wasn't even the word. It was more like sudden disgust. A hovering brain wasn't exactly the most enticing thing to look at.

Make sure these kind of things are kept off campus, okay? I don't want the press disturbing any of the academic atmosphere we have here.

Those were the words the Celegian conveyed through the mental link with his body guard and assistant as they descended down the hall to where the lecturing hall was. Regardless to the fact that Pimp'ah had more money than he could spend in a lifetime, he enjoyed his work at the university seeing it mostly as another opportunity to mentally molest individuals who have been gifted with an endoskeleton. Filthy rich and having a PhD in comparative literature were the two things that distinguished this Celegian from any other floating lump of neocortex one could find hovering around the galaxy, his own genuine style of humor earned him a reputation that reached far out of the walls of this institution.
Two scarcely dressed girls passed by them and Pimp'ah could not help but to turn around slightly, as if actually checking them out, his glasses slightly tilting. He made a habit out of his eyewear, as it served no other purpose other than telling other people which was his front side. One could not expect commoners to know details of Celegian physiology, let alone know where his face was. The glasses acted both as a marker and an instrument of mockery - but Pimp'ah also thought they made him look more intellectual and thus, in his own eyes, sexy.

Suddenly, Pimp'ah stopped for a moment, noticing one reluctant student lean against the wall, obviously not very pleased with who will teach him the next semester.

''If you are taking Comparative Literature, you should better enter the class. I don't like when people are late.'' he voiced though the speakers, gently hovering in container. Upon noticing the young man not react to anything he said, the Celegian grunted.

''What did you expect, boy? A bare chested pin-up twi'lek right off the cover of an adult magazine? Because if this is all what you are looking for, I can give you a handful of credits and you can go and buy yourself some lovin'. '' he snapped in mild annoyance.

"Huh?"

"What?"

I'nu stumbled. It was not with his feet, but with his mind. The brain overwhelmed him. In a second he had splashed the young man (big boy) with an open-can of words. Sarcasm, disdain, and distraught burst from the jar in a mechanical barrage of scolding. The mutt didn't even catch the big brain's name, if it even had one, and he was already in trouble.

This was the very reason he hated school.

Eyebrow raised, face scrunched, he stared at the being glasses. The goggles acted as a face, and it worked to keep him respectable. Since I'nu was already on bad terms, he didn't want to go any further. There was no point in turning this slip into a crash. As his face eased into a frown, he lowered his head.

Subtle, but quaint, he allowed the professor his position over him with his expression. Head a bit down, hands in his pockets, reserved, and eyes to the floor, he stood in domestic defeat. It was all front. He was being diplomatic. Moments sometimes called for the "bigger man" to present itself. This was not a political arena, but there was very little difference in the social world, especially when school was the subject.

"I'm sorry," I'nu tried desperately to hide his accent. Any false move and the scold would grow.

As he stood there, back to the wall, eyes pasted to the ground, he thought of the brain's prospect. A big chested Twi'lek didn't sound that bad. He'd much rather a scolding from her than him.

''Now, now...young one. No need to be sorry. You did not do anything. Yet.'' the Celegian said in reassurance, producing a sound that could be interpreted as a sigh. His jellylike body was softly levitating in his container, as he observed the young man which stood before him, absorbing every detail of his attire and posture, looking for clues.

''You see, people are like hyenas. Whenever they sense weakness, they attack. You should not take crap from me or anybody else, but you can only do this if you get educated. And somehow, you don't seem too happy to be here.'' professor claimed, slightly leaning over towards the glass of his jar.

''The students inside are...cruel and they will eat you alive if you act like this. You should have answered me - something like - uhmmm...'' the Celegian broke off, as if heavily contemplating, ransacking through his stash of snide comments and witty insults.
''Why don't you buy yourself a cranium, you oversized ganglion with social skills of an autistic mynock! I urinate in your fluid and your mother is a hamster!'' he proclaimed in a slightly lecturing tone, then produced a kind hearted chuckle.
''Apart from that this would certainly make me laugh, it would be a clear sign of intelligence. You should never fear your superiors, especially not me. I have no hands to strangle you.'' professor finished off, the side of his glasses twitching as he tried to mimick something that would resemble a wink.

This was all a feint. I'nu didn't want to be caught, but he didn't want to lose the girls either. They had already disappeared around the corner when he peaked to the side, and all he had left to show for his venture was a big brain jabbering infront of him. The thing even tried to wink at him.

A frown slipped along his lips. His hands curled, making a ball, but he stuffed them. There was no point in turning into a ball of fury. He had heard the brain. I'nu tried to ignore him. The less he heard, the better off he would end up. This was all a joke anyways. I'nu was only here to please his dad.

It wasn't like he was actually seriously thinking about going back to school. The very idea was outrageous. He didn't fit in. He wasn't like these people.

"Yea, yea," he said, his deviated attention broadly spread through each word. I'nu was brushing him off, and it was emphasized with his wave hand. Trying to find an escape around the big jar, he glanced over at the guardsman. Then, finally, he spoke again. His voice was lighter now, relaxed, but still filled with rasp and revealing of that accent he cherished.

"Y'kno' where those o' gals wander off to? I..uh..knew dem."

A snickering smirk slipped a long his lips that were too often fond of a smile. I'nu loved this feeling. The feeling of being mischevious, devious...and so knowing. It was very small feeling, not big enough to call it more than a nunction - but the emotion was there. It festered in the depths of his innocent face, mutt features, and pinched at his right eye to force a squint like his thoughts were too heavily wrong to keep his gaze wide. They narrowed as his lust built.

This was all in a second, and then it faded.

He didn't want to come off as some young, nasty, lecher, even if he was.