Asajj Ventress met the Ithorian bartender's wide, beady eyes as she downed her third Geonosian Plasmaball without changing expression. She was, admittedly, cheating a bit. The dark side is a pathway to many abilities some would consider unnatural, including suppressing physical pain, something Asajj had been finding increasingly useful of late to more quickly escape the dullness of being
sober on
Coruscant.
"Another," she growled, palming another credit chit onto the bar. The Ithorian waggled it's ugly mug in what she could only assume was a 'yes' and trundled away. Asajj warily eyed the empty bottles of Corellian Whiskey and Weequay-Cinnadrink that it left next to the shaker on it's side of the counter. Had she drank that much already? Didn't fucking feel like it.
Asajj spun her stool around and leaned back onto the bar, taking a proper look around the nightclub for the first time since she'd sauntered in. A few curious eyes quickly averted their gaze as she scanned the dimly lit room. Coruscanti nightclubs were awful. It was truly incredible how the prudish stuck-upedness of the Senate managed to penetrate all the way down into the undercity to specifically make Asajj's life boring as fuck. Even the bounty hunting had nothing on some of the Outer Rim contracts Asajj had seen when she was still-
She balled her fists and growled loudly enough that moments later the stools to either side of her had been vacated. A spike of anger, no longer raw but filed to a thin, deadly point once again came to the forefront of Asajj's mind and- fucking damnit. She was making the lights dim again, too fucking overt. Asajj sighed and shook her head, no point thinking about the Outer Rim or
Him tonight, not much she could do without a ship.
The pale woman blinked a few times and looked back up as the red receded from her vision. Maybe she had missed something actually fucking interesting on her first look around? She zeroed in on the dancefloor, where strobing laserlights and a gentle fog masked bodies throwing themselves to and fro. Yeah, there were people dancing, but it was
Inner Rim dancing, which hardly suited what Asajj was
interested in.
Although… she leaned in, squinting and swaying side to side as her vision unfocused and refocused.
Hello. A pretty little Togrutan thing standing in a group by the dancefloor was looking between her friends and Asajj with a tantalizingly demure expression on her face. The Dathomirian licked her lips and stood- ach, a little too quickly- and distantly sensed the Ithorian come back behind her.
"Your drink," it said, the speakers on it's twin mouths translating it's weird, whale sounding Ithorian language into Basic. Without looking, Asajj reached back and snatched the cup- oh, larger than the shot glasses of her first three- and once again downed it in one. That… was a
lot of Plasmaball. Was the fucking bartender trying to kill her?
Asajj spun back around towards the bar, nearly overshooting but throwing the force out to her side in time to stop herself suddenly. Across the room, someone's drink inexplicably spilled into their lap. The lights dimmed again. She laughed out loud, though most might've described it as a cackle, and almost hoped she had alerted some Jedi spy. She reached out and grabbed the Ithorian's shirt, tugging him towards her. "
Next time I…" She blinked. Ithorian's eyes are… fucking big, huh? And… far apart. Kinda stupid looking. She was looking this bartender in just one of it's eyes. Eh, at least it looked panicked enough. Oh, what was she saying? "
Uh. Order a drink, make it in a good size!" Yeah, that sounded right. Without a second thought she tossed him back towards his side of the bar, ignoring the sound of empty glass bottles being knocked over. Now where was she? Ah, the Togruta girl.
Ooh, she had moved to the dance floor, but she was sticking close to the edge, almost as if- a sidelong glance that the Togruta quickly cut off confirmed Asajj's suspicions. The amber skinned woman had been
waiting for her to look, and now as she started to dance… yes. Asajj could see why, that was a
very interesting dance. Asajj let herself smile predatorily, supposedly Togruta were into that kind of thing, and it came naturally to her anyway. Feeling confident, she started to slink towards the flashing lights.
She only made it a metre however, before an unfamiliar pressure on her unarmoured shoulder brought her to a halt. Asajj frowned and jerked against it once. Her frown deepened as it stayed firm. The Dathomirian sighed and finally accepted that someone had been moronic enough as to lay their hand on her shoulder. Her whole body tensed at once in a way that was incredibly visible and reeked of imminent violence, like a cat preparing to pounce. Did she flex the bare arm that was visible to the dancefloor a little more than the other? That's not your fucking business.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Eugh, another
man. This one had a pompous sounding Uppercity accent. Like,
upper Uppercity, the kinda Uppercity accent that could get you a 'legitimate' bounty on your head if you pissed it off.
Still, that didn't mean she had to be
nice. Asajj let her body relax halfway and turned around, shrugging the hand off of her shoulder. "
What?" She asked with a sneer.
A burly Weequay stared back at her for a moment, before he stepped aside to let the owner of the accent through. A surprisingly unassuming older human met her gaze evenly. Asajj stood a good four or five inches over him, and his facial structure was nearly angular enough to match Ventress' own. His clothes weren't ostentatious, but were clearly fine, most certainly a level of material and craftsmanship above anyone else in the club. He met her sneer with a welcoming smile.
A politician then, Ventress thought. "You are… Baneback, yes?" Ah, her Bounty Hunting alias, a little tribute to her home planet.
Asajj glanced behind her at the Togruta girl, who appeared to be watching the interaction with interest. A chance to impress her before reeling her in for the night, perhaps? She fixed her gaze back on the Uppercity human and folded her arms over her chest. "Who's asking?"
He stared back at her appraisingly for a moment before nodding. "Come, sit." Asajj's upper lip twisted in irritation, but she forced herself to breathe a moment before following him to his table. Ah, at least this one had a view of the dance floor. Asajj kept her gaze fixed on the Togruta girl as the human stared at her. Oh, that's
delightful, the little minx blushed a vibrant orange when Asajj shot her a wink. The Uppercity man cleared his throat. "I have a business proposition for you."
Bleh, his accent reminded her of what an even
snootier Kenobi would sound like. She looked back at him and squinted. "Then put it up on the bounty board and I'll take a look, now if you'll
excuse me."
"This
matter," he declared in a tone that brought his two Weequay muscles-for-brains sidling up to block her exit, "requires a more
private touch."
Ventress seethed in her seat. She was
trying to get
laid here. And now the Weequay were even blocking her view! "Tell
them to fucking
move and I'll hear you out."
The man paused for one pompous second, and then nodded and waved the thugs away. Seeing the view of her quarry return, Asajj zeroed in on the Togruta, and the two made eye contact. So she
had been looking for her. The Dathomirian smirked at the amber skinned beauty, who blushed that bright orange again in response, but this time kept up with a sultry smile that made Ventress shiver in her seat. Ugh, the human was still talking. Just as she thought that, he paused, and a quick glance made it clear he was waiting for a response. "Oh yes, of course." She drawled uncaringly.
Hurry the fuck up and leave me alone.
"Good, good, now, it's important to note that the target…" His voice faded back into the background as she refocused on the amber Togruta. Oh, she was
dancing again,
very nice. Asajj zoned out as she watched the Togruta move almost hypnotically to the pounding rhythm of the club music. She was lithe and muscular, as Togruta tended to be, and watching her muscles contract and extend under her bright skin as she danced was quickly eroding Ventress's patience with the human that had cornered her.
Asajj's eyes widened as the Togruta maintained eye contact and started to dance in a way that suggested a Twi'Lek bellydance, by the
Force that girl could move! Alright, fuck this, she would do literally anything to be over there instead of right here. Reluctantly, she broke her eye contact with the Togruta and turned back to the human. He was droning on about something to do with the Senate, for some ungodly reason. Fucking whatever, he probably just wanted her to get some mistress out of the picture, which, hm. Now that she thought about it, that painted an enticing picture for her on it's own, hopefully that
was what he wanted. "Hey, hey!" She interrupted him. "Fucking listen, I'm in, encrypt the details and send them to my holoaddress, alright?"
He blinked. "Y-You're sure? I did not think you would be so
interested in the-"
"Yes, I'm '
interested', here." Asajj jammed her hand into one of the pouches strapped to her thigh while she continued to watch the Togruta out of the corner of her eye. Her cards eluded her in the spacious little pocket until she sighed irritably and, as subtly as she could, reached out to the force to will them to her hand. "
Here!" She repeated, and slammed one down on the table as she launched to her feet. "
Now, if you'll
excuse me."
"I- Yes, ah, of course." The human seemed taken aback by her insistence on taking the job and quick departure. "We'll be in touch!" His voice was already fading into the background as she strode to the dancefloor. Asajj met the Togruta's sultry smile with one of her own this time as she got closer.
Fucking. Finally.
~~~
Breeeeep. Breeeeep. Breeeeep. Breeeeep.
Asajj Ventress groaned and buried her head further back into her pillows. By the force her head fucking
hurt. Downside to nullifying the sting of alcohol with the force: it made it much easier to keep consuming alcohol past when one should likely stop. Normally it'd be easy enough to meditate through the hangover, but that'd mean crawling out from under her nice, dark, warm bedsheets, and
that was one thing she was not willing to do.
Breeeeep. Breeeeep. Breeeeep. Breeeeep.
That accursed electronic
wailing though, she could not put up with. Well, better to do it fast, like ripping off a medipatch. Asajj tensed, and then in one motion sat herself up and threw the pile of blankets off of herself.
Euuuuugh. The midday Coruscanti sun always managed to peak into the nook that Asajj's apartment hid in within the upper Lowercity at the
worst times. Fortunately, a quirk of Dathomirian physiology meant that her eyes weren't light sensitive while hungover, something she had heard was a painful morning after lesson for most humanoids.
Unfortunately, she was no more immune to the dizziness and nausea than anyone else, and after she had slammed her fist down onto her holopad to open whatever notification was causing that
racket, she staggered to her tiny bathroom.
There, she stood over the sink, braced herself against the counter around it, and just stared down into it's semi-reflective burnished durasteel depths.
Just breathe Ventress, you've been through worse than this. Hm, she idly thought, in a general sense that's probably true, but this was easily the
worst hangover she'd ever had. The former Sith stayed like that for… some time, she wasn't sure how long she just stood willing herself not to vomit, actually. Anywhere between a few minutes and an hour. Somewhere in there.
Finally, she felt secure enough to chance looking up at herself in the mirror.
Oh by the fucking force. Had her job yesterday before the bar really gone
that badly? Mottled purple marks marred her body from her neck, down her chest, down below where the mirror cut off. Gingerly, she let go of the counter and pressed a finger against the worst looking spot on her neck. Well… it didn't
hurt. That was good, probably. Hold on. She squinted, and pressed a bit harder on the spot before pulling her finger across it. The purple mark
smeared and, yes, that texture…
Ah.
It was lipstick. A barrage of confused mental images of coiling, writhing amber limbs and a pair of lips coloured a gaudy purple suddenly cascaded across her memory. Ah.
Very nice. Feeling somewhat more confident in her locomotive abilities, she turned and grabbed her bathrobe off of the back of her bathroom door, donning it quickly. No point in staining the furniture any more than it already was.
Hm, looked like the Togruta girl had hit the bricks already. A shame. What was her name again? Anisha? Aishi? Something to that effect- ah, look, she left a little note on the kitchenette. Ouh… 'call me,' huh? Along with her holoaddress. Asajj was pleased to know she still had game, that encounter had ended one bastard of a dry spell. Speaking of holoaddress… she turned to the interface projection hovering over her 'work desk' where her holopad sat. Hmph, she had opened the message that disturbed her sleep when she'd slammed the pad on her way to the washroom. It looked like… a target profile? Lacking the official seals of the Bounty Board, which… wasn't great.
Hold on.
Oh no. No, no, no,
no. This job… had she
accepted this? This was… fucking high profile.
Way too fucking high profile. Like, immediately attract
Jedi fucking attention high profile. And it was unofficial? Great, they'd strip her Bounty license as they tossed her in a rayshielded cell for the rest of her fucking life. And that was if she was
lucky and they didn't realize just
who she was, which, fat fucking chance of that.
Asajj blinked. Hold on. This was
unofficial, what was binding her to do it? She'd just holomail back, saying, ech, something else had come up, or something, and the deal was off. Yeah, that'd do it. She briefly skimmed the full holomail. Yeah, not a fucking chance of this- though… she paused near the end. That was a
lot of credits. Enough to buy a new,
nice ship, and
then some.
She grimaced.
No, Asajj, no. Keep your head down. Don't give the Jedi, or worse,
Dooku, any reason to think you're alive. The bounty hunter cracked her knuckles and quickly typed out a terse reply turning down the job. Nevermind that she had already said yes, they had nothing to hold over her. Huh, maybe she could even go to the Board with this and get commended.
Well, maybe not, too. Asajj spun her chair around to face the rest of her room as she mused. That human had seemed affluent, might be better not to make an enemy of him. She pursed her lips and slowly turned her desk chair back towards the projection of the original holomail.
Buuut the credits...
She sighed wistfully. No, the Trade Federation had already failed to kidnap the Senator of Pantora once, what made her think she could do any better?
