Cherry Lips

[Una Rakesh]

It was a rather upscale apartment, in a rather upscale city, on a rather upscale world - Coruscant to be exact. Not that any specifics would matter; especially the little redhead who now flounced down the fancy stairs that led from the street to the complex itself. She sucked on a stim, one hand keeping the pack she carried over her shoulder in its' spot, and the other going up to ruffle her unruly red mop. Pearly whites showed in a wide smile as she danced her way down, oblivious to all except for the wonderful day around her. And what a wonderful day it was! A brand new morning, a brand new day, a brand new chance to do whatever her heart desired. It was the same as yesterday and the day before... in fact, that's how it'd always been since leaving home.

Another last draw on her stim, and the butt was tossed to the side as she passed a man on his way up the steps. She grinned wide at him, and he tiredly nodded in return. The overcoat he wore could only hide so much, and Una spotted the officer's bars on the neckline of his uniform. The grin turned smug then; she knew this man. Or at least, she knew his schedule. She also knew his wife.

In fact, she'd just left his wife sleeping peacefully in the wake of a rather rowdy night.

Another ruffle sent misbehaving red locks every which way, and Una went on her way, humming a cheery tune and smiling at those sshe passed.

[Alexander Bane]

The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and not a rain drop in his eyes. Could he ask for a better day? Of course he could, but he might get struck suddenly by lightning. It was one thing to bless the day, it was another to ask for more. The scowling gods in the sky would look down upon him and play darts with lightning bolts using him as the board. People told him the gods did not exist, but then why did he hear then whispering to him all the time? Ha, there was no answer for that. If they continued to scold him then he'd just smile until they left. Oh, yes. His smile. It was the kind of never ending smile that made people nervous.

And it was with that smile on his face that he turned away from the window and walked across the floor of the shabby apartment he called home. He paused at the foot of the bed, because there was a mess on the floor. It looked like someone had lazily dumped several bucketfuls of red paints everywhere, thrown a white sheet on top of it, and mixed bits and pieces of a human being in with it- and then stirred. His dark blue eyes looked down upon the mess at his feet and nudged a barely visible arm. One voice told him to hide it, the other told him to leave it as it is. He looked to right, to the demon on his shoulder and then swiveled to look to the left, at the second demon on his other shoulder. The two demons were not arguing over who's idea was best. Before they could start a fist fight Alexander shrugged his shoulders and did it his way instead. He went into the small kitchen and returned with the salt and pepper shakers. Five minutes later he exited the apartment, a fine layer of salt and pepper coating the remains of a certain Sarei Castra.

His long silver hair danced, or would have if there had been a breeze. The demons were still fighting, so he plucked them off his shoulders and put them in opposite coat pockets, tucking them in and buttoning the pockets shut. Their muffled curses could still be heard, but at least now they were not yelling in his ears. As he pulled his hands back he patted the side of his coat. He headed off down the street, his smile still on his face. His blue eyes wandering about, taking in all the lovely sights this beautiful day had brought him, one such sight was a particularly good looking red headed female. She was young and attractive in face and body. Fun ahoy! He thought as he trailed her, at a safe distance of course. You did not become a profession stalker by being an idiot. He kept one eye on her and the other looking out for any members of the Watch. He was still a wanted man, guilty of murder, theft, and numerous other crimes. He'd seen the inside of more prison cells then the CCW Warden himself. He'd been chased over rooftops, shot at, beaten, bruised, and prosecuted. Yet he always broke out again, usually with the help of his personal goddess, but that did not make the painful pursuit any less painful.

But the sun was shining, so he continued to smile...

[Una Rakesh]

It was always such a nice feeling to be up in the higher areas of Coruscant - nothing like the smog-congested lower levels. Sometimes she came up here just to sit and stare at strangers, winking at a few of them as they walked by her.

It seemed as though the feisty redhead had nothing in the world to worry about - she always seemed to land on her feet no matter what. Even after leaving home her luck was the same. She might not have had alot of money, but that never mattered much to Una. Everything just sort of worked out for her. Being that her father was a teacher at the Imperial Academy, Una had been granted many privileges growing up; she knew just about everything there was to know about history, mythological lore, and even the nutball ravings of her Uncle Karrnage. Her uncle he wasn't, but she'd called her father's colleague 'uncle' for as long as she could remember, and never grew out of it.

Ancient history was the name of the game; Jedi, Sith, Mandalorians, and anything else that had been passed down through the ages as folklore and old wives' tales. Thankfully book-smarts weren't her only selling point, as the way of the world was learned each day. And she'd learned quite a lot.

Her boots had hit their fare share of pavement, and in her pack she carried an assortment of trinkets, talismans, and charms. Even a few voodoo dolls called her pack home, nestled snugly with her slugthrower.

Fairly skipping her way through clumps of people, Una Rakesh lit up another stim, pulling in deeply only to exhale through her nostrils while still holding that same smug grin from a few minutes before.

Smoke in hand, Una ducked into a cafe, opting to sit outside and graciously spare those inside from the glorious fumes of her stim. Her pack was just about dropped onto the table as she lazily dumped her own self into the chair.

Ah! A new day, a new adventure to set out upon, and a cup of caf!

[Alexander Bane]

Ah, she paused and slipped into an outdoors cafe. Bane stopped and took a right, slipping down an alley, for a better lack of a name. It was not, in fact, an alley but rather a walking space between two buildings that would, in most circumstances, be referred to as an alley if not for the fact that it was rather sunlit and not dark and gloom as an alley should be. Bane walked the length of the passage and then turned to the left, walking along the backside of the cafe building. He discovered a back door and tried it. Locked. Piddles, he thought as he continued to round the backside of the building, taking another left turn which, ultimately, caused him to end up back on the sidewalk, but this time on the other side of the red haired woman. Without missing a beat he walked up to the cafe, as if it was normal for him to come out of alleys to get to the local cafe, and ordered a spiced stimcaf in a tall cup.

He slipped back out into the sunlight, or what was left of the sunlight after the richer nobs in the taller buildings were done with it, and sat down at a table a short distance away from the red head. He sipped his stimcaf, his eyes already going bright with the incredibly amount of sugar and caffeine contained in the hot drink. He'd be up all night, that was for sure. He continued to sip his drink, pausing now and then to look over at the red head. He'd have to bide his time, wait for the opportune moment, and then spring. He was fond of dragging people into alleys, having fun with them, and then mutilating them with his odd assortment of knives and other sharp kitchen utensils. He had a reputation for being the only mass murder to butcher people with metal spatula.

[Byl Laprovik]

I sat at the back of the cafe, my back against the wall as I browsed a catalog with disinterest. The new year's models of XJ-12 speeders were overpriced and underpowered. Something to do with ion drive regulations. I reset the holoflimsy to browse the news instead, knocking back a small cup of Geonosian chai.

I was waiting for a call, when the redhead took a seat outside. That was a real distraction. Fortunately I had about ten minutes to kill, and the news wasn't that interesting anyway. I chucked the flimsy aside, and walked out with my drink. Along the way, my eyes made note of where people were, and where their eyes were focused. Stormtroopers were always conspicuous, so the Empire opted for subtlety just as much in the Imperial center.

I leaned against the redhead's wrought-iron table with an outstretched hand.

"Mind if I kill some time?"

[Una Rakesh]

The server had delivered her caf only a few minutes before the stranger appeared, and pausing in mid-sip, Una looked at him from over the rim of her mug.

Without speaking, she set the caf down while in the same motion pulling another stim from the pack sitting on the table.

"Go right ahead," she murmured, lighting the end of the smoke and gesturing to the empty chair that sat opposite.

Inhaling, Una exhaled through her nose as she gave this newcomer a bit of a rather conspicuous once over.

[Alexander Bane]

Oh piddles... Another man had just sauntered up and nabbed his prize. Bane frowned in disaproval as his plans went down the gutter. If this son of a mother remained around his target he'd have to go off and find another. He was not happy, oh no Sam I am, not happy at all. He continued to watch the woman, but widened his scope to allow the man to fit into it all. Could he take them both? Perhaps. He had a lot of kitchen utensils hidden under his coat, but perhaps not enough to hilariously kill two people. That was pushing it...

[Byl Laprovik]

"Waiting on somebody?" I queried, taking a sip of tea as I cautioned a glimpse.

She was one of those girls who would be terribly attractive after a good hot bath. She was somewhere between silver spoon debutante and skylift trash.

[Una Rakesh]

"Not a soul around here worth waiting on," was the lazy reply as she took another sip.

Giving the stranger a lopsided grin, Una leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs at the ankles beneath the table.

"And you?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"Looking for poor, unattended pretty girls who don't know any better."

I smiled out the corner of my mouth at her.

[Alexander Bane]

Bane chocked on his drink, spewing the murky brown liquid in all directions, "It Burns!" He exclaimed loudly as the sensation of burning liquid on various areas around his body hit his brain. He jumped up, his cup and the rest of it's contents frying up into the air. He danced about his table, slapping at himself as he vainly attempted to get the burning liquid off him and out of his clothing, "Hot, hot, hot!" He continued to chant as he moved, his movements incorporating the dancing from one foot to the other while moving. The result was something that looked like a tribal dance and chant.

[Una Rakesh]

With a cocked brow, Una gave a little laugh. "Well, if I see one, I'll be sure to - "

A noise interrupted her, and the redhead shifted in her chair. Letting one arm drape over the back of her seat, she pulled from her stim once more while watching a man with silver hair who'd obviously spilled on himself.

An amused expression flitted across her features briefly as he did his dance.

[Byl Laprovik]

Something about the silver-haired joker's performance seemed contrived, or at the very least out of place. I gave him a moment's attention with a quizzical expression, and then returned to my tea.

[Alexander Bane]

Then Alex stopped suddenly, his face contorting into several different looks before he settled on a bewildered, confused look, like that of a child spanked for a reason unknown to them. Mumbling could be heard as he moved back to his chair and sat down. His body went rigid and his face blank, eyes wide. With a scream that could have woke the dead he shot into the air, straight into the air. No forward or side motion, just straight up into the air, his hands holding his bum. Below him, on the rounded seat of his chair, was a puddle of still hot brown caf.

The dancing and chanting began again, this time with him smacking his butt trying to get the liquid off. It proofed futile, so instead he pulled the sleeve of his leather coat back and bit on to his arm, his teeth biting into the skin, but not enough to draw blood. It was perfectly logical. Cuasing pain somewhere else helped ignore pain happening somewhere more vital. Sadly in his case it did not work. So instead he was left with a stinging wrist and and buttocks, which he let the world know by screaming at the top of his lungs and running down the nearest alley smacking himseone on the head.

[Una Rakesh]

The whole spectacle was enough to make her blink in mild confusion, and coupled with her previous amusement, it made for an interesting look on her face.

She craned her body to the side, watching him run off before letting a rather mystified "Huh," escape her lips. What an odd man...

Another blink, and the moment was gone. She turned back to her 'guest'.

"As I was saying," she lifted her cup to her lips, took a sip, and set the cup back down onto the table, "I'll let you know if I come across any 'poor, unattended pretty girls'... "

She gave him a cheeky grin, "... who don't know any better."

[Byl Laprovik]

"An interesting color, your hair. Nothing like my drab mess."

I half gestured to my mussed hair as I spoke.

"Animals use bright colors for invitation - or warning. What about you?"

[Alexander Bane]

Bane came running out from around the cafe, his eyes popping out of his head and his hair flowing widly behind him as he ran. He skidded to a stop at the red haired woman's table, his face turning into a pout, "Have you seen my pants?" He asked, contraire to the fact that he actually had his pants on, even if they were covered in spilt stim-caf. His face was one of desperation, as if the well being of the universe depended on the location of his pants. His hands folded together and shook slightly, as if he was praying for her to have the right answer, or possibly begging her for any answer, as long as it's a good one. His big blue eyes stared down into hers. If she looked hard enough she might have seen the demons in the background starting to wake up.

[Una Rakesh]

She'd been about to answer her guest's question when the silver-haired man burst back into view and - rather surprisingly - ended up at her table.

"I... what?"

Una gave pause, pulling a confused face. "... Pants?"

He had his pants; albeit stained with caf, and the redhead began to wonder if the man was perhaps an escaped mental patient. At first glance he wouldn't seem to be, but the pleading in his eyes as he wrung his hands together, asking for pants when it was clear as day that he was still wearing them... she blinked, and turned back to look at the man sitting across from her.

"Have you seen his pants?"

[Byl Laprovik]

I looked from Bane to Una, and back another time.

"I don't have a clue what you're on."

I couldn't tell if he was just stoned out of his mind or if there was something else afoot. I sat leisurely, but I was ready to spring up and take him down if the situation required it. This wasn't the kind of complication I needed.

[Alexander Bane]

His eyes darted from her face to his, and the pleading repeated, hoping that he had an answer, but instead he accused him, and that hurt. His face hardened and he stood up to his full height and look down at the man. A finger was lifted and pointed down at him like the finger of god, "You sir," He started and then his face screwed up in a scowl of concentration. He, in that moment, could not think of a name to call this man. The only names that came to mind were really nasty, and he was not in the mood for a fight just yet, or was he...

"You sir," He repeated, "Are a Schutta!" He looked satisfied with his choice of wording. He took three steps back, reaching into the folds of his ankle long coat and withdrew a shiny metal spatula, which if one looked closely enough had a sharpened edge, "You impune me honor, and now we shall duel!" He flourished his blade with a fancy spin of his wrist and then took up a straight mockery of a fensing stance.