It was another cycle at the Shame Corner, busy but orderly, new to some and familiar to others. While the new addition of the arcade was an attraction, there were also a few displays set up front where other seasonal – on some planet or another – or holiday – to someone – purchases usually resided. This time extra bags of candy tempted teeth and strained past breaking spirits as well as a small selection of costumes. Additionally, special flavors of beverages and one free stein of beer were advertised both at the bar and in the diner, encouraging some autumnal (again, on at least some planet) relaxation.
And there was absolutely no mention of things blowing up or reliquaries or judgements or other such silly things.
Last months net profits had been about 8100. It wouldn’t make Kalen extravagantly rich in a year or 2, but it was steady passive income. All the holovid ads he kept seeing always mentioned ‘earn more passive income’, so he decided to see how things went in month 2, if the profits stayed the same or increased hed invest in another ship to flying s different route.
But one thing was for sure TKC Textile Services appeared to be a viable business. The smell inside the ship well, that was another thing entirely. But that was Treels concern, not Kalens.
This time heading in to land at the Shame Corner, Major Treel had all his permits and service requests already filled. This time, the portly little Ugnaught had even secured a prime parking spot where almost everyone had to walk past the mobile laundry/dry cleaning shuttle if they were leaving the hangar area.
Weyr parked his shuttle in one of the open hangar spots he was cleared for and turned off the ship. He sighed and leaned back a moment in his chair, running a hand through his messy bluish black hair. Suddenly,a flash of blue and dark crimson whizzed by from the corner of his eye and before he could focus on the rushing blur of color, he felt a small chomp on his right pinky finger. Looking down, he saw that Laoch, his baby Keeradak, had clamped down with it’s small mouth and began nibbling on it.
“Hungry too aren’t you Laoch?” He chuckled as the little Keeradak let go a moment and let out a little cry before proceeding to lick his fingers.
“I’ll take that as a yes, well we are at a spaceport and there is plenty to eat here, but you must be on your best behavior. I can’t have you running into people or knocking over stalls all right? This isn’t a playground.”
Laoch curled himself up, showing his dark red belly and swished his little red-black tail excitedly.
“RAwwwrp!” He chirped. “Rawwwwrp!”
Weyr smirked and shook his head. “I will hold you to that Laoch, now come on. Let’s go find some food.”
The little Keeradak swiftly got on his haunches before dashing up Weyr’s left arm and perched himself on the Evereni’s shoulder.
“Rawwwrp!”
Laughing a bit, Weyr took out a comb from his pocket and fixed his messy hair a bit before putting it away. Casually he strode with Laoch to the exit door of the shuttle and stepped out down the ladder to the walkway. He finished locking up the ship before making his way to the main hub entrance.
While the laundry service got underway and Weyr and his baby keeradak WHICH I CAN’T. SPELL. entered the joy and majesty that was the Shame Corner, one particular colorful duo was already present. A vibrant hybrid sometimes described as a vomited rainbow and sometimes as a lovely sunset moved through the aisles, trying on everything handed to him by the young fuschia Twi'lek girl or the bright-eyed toddler that stayed shyly under the weft of his tail for the most part, looking at everything and clutching her toy bow and arrow.
“Try this one!” Sulla said, handing Rue a pair of voorpak ears. He took off the last one, a tooka set, and replaced it patiently. She regarded him with great seriousness before spinning on her heel. “No, that’s not it!”
“This one can turn into any animal you wish, celosia,” Rue reminded her. Just in case.
“Nooo! You dress UP for spaceHallow Eve! We have to have costumes. You’re gonna be a princess!”
“I thought I was a voorpak.”
“A princess voorpak!”
“Okay, petal.”
“Are you surviving?” came another voice, amused, as his sister returned. Elly lofted a small set of fake armor triumphantly. “They had your size in the back, Sulla. Do you want to try it on, sweetie?”
“Yes!” squealed the Twi'lek, running to her mother. She took the get up and looked for a sign. “I’m gonna go try it on be right back!”
“I’ll go with you–”
“Mom! I can go to the fresher myself!”
Elly huffed. ‘Alright. But come right back to us. We’ll stay here.“
Sulla went off, and Rue beamed at Elly.
<@301514304845381632> <@371402534973341696>
Weyr was greeted already by many different sights, sounds, and in particular smells. Something savory was already wafting up from the direction of the food stalls, though he wondered if there would be something else.He strode up to what looked like an information desk, Laoch perched on his shoulder, now yawning and making small biscuits on it with his small claws.
The Keeradak’s black and deep scarlet red tail swished about softly. It sniffed the air and let out a soft. “Rawwwrp.” “Don’t worry we will be getting something to eat soon enough, I just need to get some directions to some food places. Be patient little one, otherwise I will take you back to the ship.”
Laoch opened his mouth and showed off his small sharp teeth, shaking his red spiked head and settling down again.
Weyr grinned and politely proceeded up to the information desk attendant. “Scuse me uh do you happen to have a map of the hub, possibly information about some of the food places that are here?”
Heavy footsteps carried the burly Lonto man across the emaculately polished floors of the Shame Corner. Why did they call it that? It sounded vaguely … suggestive. But who was he to judge? Anyway, Arlo slipped through the dense crowds gathered in anticipation of some new promotional item with all the grace of a gymnast half his size, and headed directly for the Health and Wellness section of the station.
Once there, Arlo scanned the aisles with a determined look, the deep lines in his corticiform skin furrowing with his concentration. But after several minutes, he sucked his teeth. They didn’t have the plant-based protein he was looking for! “Well this is a travesty,” he muttered to himself before looking around for an employee.
“Really? I thought it was conalawion root extract,” remarked a voice from nearby. A figure lounged against the end caddy shelf, where a multitude of large bottles of antiseptics were neatly stacked.
The Echani woman stationed for management up front smiled slightly at Weyr’s approach, silver eyes darting to Laoch with fondness.
“You know, we do not actually produce maps of the premises…perhaps that would be something to consider.” She tapped a note into a datapad and then turned back to Weyr. “But I can certainly direct you and there is signage. What kind of food are you looking for? We have a gracious selection of snacks, hot food lines, freezers, Fudge, the diner…”
The man smiled thoughtfully as Laoch tucked himself into Weyr’s shoulder looking at the Echani woman.
“The diner sounds quite lovely, where would that be located?”
“It’s right that way, all the way at the end,” indicated the Echani. She rose from her seat, tapping a few buttons and speaking lowly into the comm clipped to her jacket for a moment. “Allow me to escort you.”
She stepped out and circled around her station, guiding Weyr through the massive store. They would pass a Twi'lek girl headed for the refreshers with a costume in hand, as long as a pair of adults chatting in a pop up seasonal section near the merchandise, one extremely colorful and the other also colorful, just more normal.
As they were passing the colorful folks, Laoch begin to make chirping noises at Weyr.
“No, I am not getting a costume Laoch.”
“Rawwwrp!”
“We are going to the diner remember, maybe afterwards we can browse the- Oh nine hells! Please forgive me seems my Keeradak wants to check out costumes.” He replied to the Echani Lady as Laoch jumped off Weyr’s shoulder and dashed towards Rue and Elly.
Weyr was mortified.
“Noo, Laoch! Come back here you silly beast.”
But the crimson and black Keeradak with azure wings shook his head and ran right towards Rue. Stopping inches from his feet as he sat cutely on his haunches and wagged his tail letting out an adorable. “Rawwwrrp!”
“Dammit Laoch…” Weyr sighed as he tried to catch up to his companion.
Rue loosed a surprised but happy chitter at the juvenile keeradak’s invasion, stepping naturally more in front of little Lektra just in case the creature was going to run into her or nip. Rather, as it stopped and sat, he smiled, making a “Rawwwrrerp.” sound back.
“Hello there,” the hybrid added normally, crouching to offer his hand for sniffing. Thankfully, Lektra was quite used to critters running up to her at this point, thanks to Alk and other friends of Rue’s, and she just peered around him with big, eager green eyes.
<@301514304845381632>
That earned a snort from the man, the kind of full-bodied chortle that could light up a room. But in this case, it merely drew the curious eyes of passersby - likely more attention than the new arrival was looking for.
“Good one,” Arlo replied while turning to regard the figure fully. They were much smaller than he was, a Lasat, which he didn’t see often. Odd coloring, but he wasn’t an expert on lasat appearances, either. “You know your plants, friend.”
“I do,” drawled the Lasat, wagging one digit at him, then at some of the bottles on one shelf, mirth dancing in their eyes. “But it was also on the label.”
They stood up from their slouch, which added to their height, but not by much. The Lonto had a foot on them. They clutched one of the bottles of antiseptics, a dark thing marked as [90% ethyl alcohol], and used it to gesture up and down at him.
“But I don’t know you. And that’s a rare thing. You’re a plantae species. What are you?” They waggled their brows. “Tell me a bit, savvy, I could get you a drink? A meal? Some help finding whatever you’re not seeing here? I know this store quite well.”
Arlo glanced back at the bottle again and snapped his fingers. Sure enough, the name of its primary ingredient, conalawion root was emblazoned on the label in black text. He’d never been a fan of reading, preferring to feel or taste his way through learning the ingredients of things.
“I’m a lonto,” he said, “definitely the coolest of the plant-based species of the galaxy. Zelosians are cool, too, though. Dated a zelosian girl, once. Did you know sugar gets them drunk? One bag of Voorpak Bites and they’re red in the face. Wild.”
“I did know that,” the Lasat acknowledged. “Been one, too. Too much a pain in the ass though. Convert your bloody basal cells into chloroplasts and see how long it takes you, too busy holding that together to even get to the chocolate…” Shaking their head, they smiled at him, big upper and lower incisors and fuzzy dimples. “Anyway, Lan-tow, huh? Wild. What makes you cooler than Zelosians? Is it just because you’re so big?”
Arlo blinked. “That sounds horrific and painful.”
After shaking his head to clear his mind’s eye of the nauseating mental image, Arlo’s eyes widened in excitement. “I’ll show you,” he grinned while reaching into his pocket. He produced a small flower, a rose whose red petals suddenly flexed and stretched, blossoming in the presence of Arlo’s innate and potent connection to the Light Side of the Force.
“Eh? Eh? Whadd'ya think?”
Those eclipse eyes flew wide, and in the next moment, the ‘little’ Lasat was right up in Arlo’s space, nearly standing on his toes. Her arms raised and fingers twitched and fell in an aborted reach for him or the flower, the antiseptic bottle they’d held abandoned on the floor, bouncing lightly with a plastic echo that indicated it was significantly empty.
“Kûsk-ut nu? Nwûl-Skari kis châts dzwul'nun?” she breathed, a hiss, a gasp of wonder and acid alike, each word gutteral and barbed but cadenced. “You– how did you do that? Is it an illusion? Do you deceive me? Tell me, now, quickly.”
Their hands twitched again, gaze riveted on the innocent little blossom.
Arlo’s eyes widened in kind, prompting him to lift his hands up and away from the lasat. He took a step back, making a show of it; it was too early for someone to violate his personal space.
His eyes nearly glossed over when she started speaking. “I uh … don’t speak whatever that was.” To his relief, she started to speak in Basic afterward.
“My species has a natural connection to the Force. It allows us to control and manipulate plant life. Fungal life, too, but that’s a bit harder.”
He handed her the rose.
The Lasat snatched it from his offering hand, taking her own hopping steps back that flexed her opposable toes. She examined it intently, running fingers along each part, sniffing, even taking a bite out of it. She swallowed the bit of stamens, petals dripping from her mouth like blood without so much as a blink.
“You’re not Tricking me,” she remarked at last, with an odd emphasis in the middle. Then, almost off-handed to his earlier comment, “Few speak it, given it’s what a commoner may call Ancient Sith. Fret not.”
The remainder of the rose disappeared into her…well, somewhere, a pocket maybe. She looked back to Arlo, black-saffron gaze pinning.
“You have gifted me something today beyond only knowledge. Name a price and you have it.”
“How did you learn to speak Ancient Sith?” he asked.
The short fur on the Lasat’s head and all up her back twitched, as if in agitation, but then she flicked her four-digited hand, a gesture like tossing away trash.
“So many possible sardonic replies going to die right now,” she huffed, “but if that’s your curiosity, well: the putrid little zealots that made me and mine in their laboratories saw fit to rigorously test our intellect as well as whatever physical characteristic they sought, and that included education in their doctrines. They were Sith cultists, and so they taught Sith beliefs, including the language of their gods. I can speak it, I can write it, I can perform blood rites to open tombs and command war beasts of the Necrons. Bully for me.”
The last was accompanied by sarcasm and a single spinning finger.
“That made you?” he questioned, though upon seeing the look she gave him, Arlo decided against pressing for more answers. “That’s rough, bud.”
“Yeah,” echoed the Lasat, and yanked a flask from…again somewhere. She took a deep drink. “Yeah, it was rough, to say the least. I need more to drink. You want to come? Assuming you can process alcohol, anyway.”
Laoch smiled at Rue and nuzzled his hand with his head. It was warm and soft, plus Rue had this really nice smell to him. The small baby Keeradak let out a happy chirp. “Ah, Laoch! What are yo-” He stopped as he approached the colorful man who Laoch was nuzzling. “Oh dear.."Weyr sighed a bit embarrassed, his dark slate grey cheeks getting a little blushed. "I am sorry about this. My companion decided that he needed a costume before we go to the diner. Please forgive my interruption. I hope he has'nt been a handful to you.” He then bowed politely to Rue.
“Oh, I can process it alright,” Arlo exclaimed witha wide grin, “Show me where the good booze is kept, my oddly colored friend.”
The larger man interlaced his fingers behind his head while following her.
Rue gently scratched and rubbed the keeradak’s chin, even leaning so far down as to offer Laoch his own cheek to nuzzle back with a chirp. He looked up from where he knelt before the new arrival, smiling brightly at the inky-cheeked man. “Oh, no, he is delightful. And also more than a handful. Perhaps three or so. Though the measure is very imprecise.”
Rising, Rue bowed and curtsied quickly back, though he couldn’t properly lift his skirt with Lektra holding on to them.
“Hello, Blessed Day. Your friend is quite wonderful.”
Weyr smiled as Laoch growled happily closing his eyes from the chin and licked Rue’s cheek before nuzzling it.
“Oh good,glad he’s behaving himself. Thank you, you as well. I was trying to get to the diner, but seems he wanted to get a costume and make new friends.” Weyr replied chuckling and shaking his head. “Pleasure to meet you, I am Weyr and this cute Keeradak is Laoch.”
The Lasat lead Arlo back through the main thoroughfare of the Shame Corner, bypassing kitchenware, home goods, jerky, fudge, candy, and more. She lead him all the way to the other end of the store, where one way lied the outdoor animal center and the other the beckoning, gentle neon sign of the Seven Sins Bar.
Inside were several other patrons, already drinking at a handful of small booths crowded up to the wall, barstools and tiny tall tables on occasion. Running things today was a lanky woman with bright green eyes and dark skin, her green tresses pulled up in severe rows and bunched on either side of her head.
The Lasat strolled up to one of the pairs sitting at the bar itself, asking, “Mind if we take these seats?” Obligingly, the other two citizens stood and shuffled off, and she sat, patting the other warmed stool for her compatriot.
Arlo’s eyes narrowed when he saw the way the two patrons looked when the lasat spoke, the way their mouths hung open for just a few seconds too long. He watched them shuffle away for a second,m before shifting his attention back to her.
“Did you just go all ‘these are not the droids you’re looking for’ on them?” he asked.
The Lasat blinked eclipse eyes back at him, the thick and high ridges of her furred brows furrowing and rising.
“I didn’t say anything about droids?” she asked in return, and waved down the bartender. “Oi! Eh, Kessel Run of shots for me, the floor cleaner stuff, and whatever he wants.”
He shrugged. “Figure of speech.”
Then, he turned to the bartender and smiled. “Afternoon. I’ll have the largest pitcher of Rustic Sunrise you carry, please.”
The bartender, a Zelosian, coincidentally, pressed her lips into a line as she took down their orders, and her eyes rolled halfway up, as though barely concealing that this job was a pain to her.
“Sure,” she said while typing the orders in, and squinted at them both in turn before commenting sideways at the Lasat, “what did you do, play in the kids’ paints or something?”
Arlo’s mysterious companion just made something in the shape of a smile that wasn’t friendly like his was. It bared too many pointed teeth.
The dichotomy of smells that emanated from the mobile laundry vessel, was a mixture of freshly cleaned laundry that had a pleasant lemony scent that the ugnaught employees were handing back to customers once they were payed. This was contrasted by the fetid reek of sacks of unwashed clothing and garments that customers were dropping off in a steady chain.
Business was good for TKC Textiles Ltd.
“Treel buddy, how’re we doing today. Looks like another profitable day to me.” Kalen said after landing and sauntering over to the the ship that he owned 78% of. At this rate he’d be investing in a few more Sheathipede’s and converting them to Textile Cleaning Ships.
Treel gave Kalen the customary high 5/low 5 hand gesture. It was a high 5 from the 4 foot tall Treel, and low 5 from the 6’ 4" Kalen.
“I am your business partner, not your buddy. We agree business is highly profitable today. I have spoken.”
“Sounds good, might have to buy a few more ships soon eh?” Kalen said cheerily.
“I would prefer to save conversations of that ilk for our next monthly operations meeting. It could be considered though.” Treel then walked over to the ugnaught employee and carried on a quick exchange of whispered as they often did.
“Alright cool, well, I’ll fuel up and get ready to head out.” Kalen said, taking the hint.
Arlo snorted at that comment, but quickly tightened his lips and straightened his posture when the lasat shot him a look. As the bartender stood around waiting for the next patron, he glanced back in her direction. “I can practically hear you counting the minutes until your shift ends in your head,” he said with a friendly smile, “one of those days? Or is that just how the gig goes?”
The lanky plant woman narrowed her eyes as they snapped over to Arlo, scrutinizing him again while mixing his pitcher. Whatever she found in his expression, her mouth eased ever so slightly, assuaging the sneer that was so permanent on the bow of her lips as to be natural.
She didn’t smile back, but she did reply, “Gig isn’t bad, neither is the day. I’m just one of those people.”
The Zelosian finished up their drinks and placed down Arlo’s pitcher with a hefty thud, along with a serving glass. In front of the Lasat she slid two holders of six shot glasses each, filled with a nearly clear, slightly blue liquor that even one seat over the Lonto would smell– floor cleaner was an apt descriptor indeed, as it burned the inside of his nose and eyes.
“Cheers,” said his companion, toasting both the barmaid and him, before shooting one back.
Just one of those people, huh? Arlo watched her for a few moments longer before curling his fingers around the pitcher’s handle and pouring himself a tall glass of the Rustic Sunrise. She’d piqued his interest. Something about that aloofness. He’d have to speak to her more, later, but he had a new companion with which to converse.
“Cheers,” he said before slamming back the entire glass as easily as one would finish a glass of water. He was practically beaming by the end of it. “That’s good ale. Can’t say the same for what you’re drinking, though. Smells like you’re drinking starship fuel.”
As Arlo turned back to the Lasat, the bartender’s softened mouth firmed again and she went back to work. Meanwhile, said Lasat had taken three more of their shots while Arlo chugged, and was grinning wolfishly at him when he finished.
“Finally, someone who might keep up. And point of these ain’t to taste pretty. It’s to hit hard. It’s good in a different direction.” She lifted another and waggled it at him in offer. “Bold enough, Lonto?”
That was a good enough point, he supposed. After all, he didn’t always drink for taste; sometimes, it was good just to get blitzed. His face scrunched a bit when she propositioned him. “This is nothing,” he said with a scoff, holding a hand out, “Give me one.”
That grin widened, anticipatory, and she handed it over then took up another, clinking the tiny glasses together.
“Cheers, mate.”
She tossed the shot back, smacking wet lips.
Arlo tilts his head back to drink the shot. At first, he doesn’t react, but it doesn’t take long for it to hit him. His eye twitches, and his face contorts into knots when the drink (if one could even call it that) sets his tastebuds aflame. Thick fingers dig into his palm as his stomach turns, but he manages to keep the spirit down lest he give the countertop a fresh, acidic-smelling coat of paint. “That … was horrible,” he finally speaks, voice sounding like he’d swallowed a bunch of hot coals.
From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the zelosian woman again, and even gleans part of her name from the little tag worn on the front of her shirt, but he misses the rest when she turns to greet a group of sharply dressed men who, based on the expensive-looking suits and tunics they were wearing, seem too loaded to be shopping here. Only when he notices one of the men’s eyes drift a bit lower than they should when the bartender turns to fetch their drinks, does it dawn on him that they likely aren’t here for the quality of the drinks, as good as they are.
He sucks his teeth and, looking back to the lasat seated to his right, leans down a bit to speak in a whisper. “Want to see something cool?”
The Lasat merely laughed at the man’s visible pain, and slapped his arm with a complimentary comment of, “Atta lad.”
They watched him watch the bartender, not missing his own interest in the woman, no different to her than that of the rich men whose pockets they’d certainly be picking later. The Lonto, though, she owed, and she did like a trick, and a secretive one, so she inclined her head with another toast of a shot.
“Impress me, hmm?” she whispered back.
Arlo’s lips pull into a grin as he looks at the group again. He waits until the zelosian bartender has stepped away again, this time to the back presumably to help one of her coworkers with something, then affixes his attention squarely on the ringleader of the obnoxious patrons. Terror was almost always used as a Dark Side power, but Arlo had learned how to achieve similar effects with the Light. Like the light of dawn shining over a vast landscape, so too does his presence in the Force radiate through the man’s mind. And there’s a weight to it. The weight of revelation presses without relent as the Light, his Light, strips away all the veils an shadows and lays the man’s soul bear.
And under the weight of that clarity, that unsolicited and unflinching reflection of who he truly is, the man’s mind breaks. And in a physical manifestation of his need to expunge all that suddenly and so clearly felt so deeply wrong to him, he turns and vomits … all over two of his other companions.
“Impressive enough?” he asks the lasat while leaning back in his seat. Admittedly, he hadn’t intended it to go that far, but it wasn’t like the man didn’t deserve much more. He’d heard what he was thinking.
Elly watched Rue interaction with the creature that had approached him and her daughter, wary of the possibility it could snap at Lektra. But Rue seemed to have it handled, keeping it nice and distracted so the toddler was free to toddle and watch.
The woman stepped a bit closer to the interaction, choosing to not simply be a bystander for once. “They weren’t kidding about the Shame Corner being animal friendly,” she tried for a joke as a starter. <@244244163002892288>
“Indeed, I am happoly surprised that they would. Not to worry about Laoch, He may look rough, but he’s really just a softie for scritches and pets. He also tends to be very inquisitive.” Replied the Evereni. He chuckled at his pet which was now gently starting to climb carefully up onto Rue’s left shoulder letting a soft growling purr rumble out from his stomach. “Rawrp..rrrr..” Weyr looked at Loach and smirked. “Well you seem to be a keeradak whisperer. He definitely likes you.” He turned to Elly. “I hope that we didn’t ruin your day here.”
“I can assure you that you didn’t. In fact, it’s rather nice getting to be around when Rue makes a new creature friend.” The Firrerreo turned her gaze away from her brother and onto Weyr. “I’m Ellisyn, by the way.”
“Ah, nice to meet you Ellisyn. I am Weyr. Glad we didn’t. I know we had come here to grab a bite to eat originally, but my companion decided that he wanted a costume first. Thinking I may see if there is a raven or loth cat costume I can put him in. As for me, I haven’t a clue what to dress as perhaps you all might be able to help me.”
The Lasat burst out laughing, earning even more aggravated looks from the lot now squawking and shouting in disgust at the substance spewed on their sensational suits, flailing their arms about and cursing and making a general uproar. The vomitor was pale and stricken and staring, and only shook out of it as his friends started hitting at him for what he’d done rather than sympathy. Seemed their sort.
Saffron-sable eyes clocked back to the Lonto, pinning on him. The slow crawl of her malicious smile was a creeping vine with thorns.
“Impressive indeed. And interesting. I have never seen someone like you do something like that.” There was something sharp folded in the soft dips of every vowel she spoke, bloodied and cruel. “And I am quite familiar with such aspects.”
Behind them, the bartender looked a little more green, grimacing openly and looking at the scene with the resigned disgust of an employee doomed to clean up the mess of bodily fluid left by her patrons. She threw down her towel and strode off, pushing through a swinging door into the back and snapping at someone therein for a mop.
“Yes, he does deserve it, doesn’t he?” echoed the Lasat, lifting one hand. “And much more? Want to see a trick? My turn.”
She thrust her arm down, angled in the cradle formed by their close bodies, hidden from plain view where their whispers nested. Only her arm disappeared halfway through, a wyrd warp seeming to fold around it, cracked and shivering, like she was reaching somehow into something. There was so much motion over by the gentlemen that an additional hand was hardly noticed, and then the Lasat was pulling back, and her hand reappeared, slightly steaming with some cold mist, and a heavy gold watch in her palm.
“Here. It would suit you better.”
Arlo’s eyes widen curiously when he witnesses her hand disappear, only to return with an expensive looking watch in tow. “Now that’s impressive,” then, he takes the watch with a thankful nod and puts it in his pocket.
As the group scurried off with their tales between their legs, Arlo rises to his feet and meets the bartender near where the mess is. “Need a hand?” He asks, “I have a strong stomach, so.” He wonders if he can see her name tag in full, now.
Rue beamed at Elly and the world in general as Laoch climbed into him. He angled so that Lektra could safely inspect and pat at the friendly keeradak’s snout while he held it fully, picking the wyrmling up and bracing it on his chest and shoulder. Lektra gasped and squealed when he licked her hand, darting to her mother as if scared, though she was immediately peeling with laughter and smiles seconds later; such were the reactions of a toddler.
“Blessed to meet you, Weyr. I am Rue and this is Lektra and Sulla has gone to try a costume of her own. She is dressing her mother and I. Perhaps she can help you too.”
<@301514304845381632>
Indeed having placed himself next to her, Arlo could read Invidia on her name tag. He could also compare their statures better, that she was only a bit shorter than him, spiky at the hair, sharp elbows, slightly pointed ears, and a thin, lithe but triangular body shape.
Her sneer was sharp too, but it was milder as she took in his genuine face and sighed hard, waving him off.
“I’m not going to have a customer help me. Go sit down.” It wasn’t quite a snap, but her words were firm. “Someone will be up to cover your drinks in a second.”
Meanwhile, from their seat, the abruptly abandoned Lasat watched with narrowed eyes, folding their hands in front of their mouth.
“Fair enough,” he says, raising his hands, “Pretty name, by the way. I’m Arlo.”
He offers a gentle wave and a smile before turning back to where the lasat was seated, and then sits next to her. “Boy,” he says with a whimsical sigh.
A slight flushed touched dark cheeks at the compliment as Arlo wandered back off easily and Invidia got to work cleaning the vomit up. Out from the back slouched another woman, this one without an apron and with her pale, bubblegum blue hair messily scraped back in the loosest of tails. She looked barely awake and shuffled over to some patrons having vacated their seats thanks to the nearby barf smell.
As the Lonto returned to his seat, the Lasat raised both brows. “Your intrigue escapes me,” they remarked, sipping on another shot.
“She’s cute,” he says, “and I like her energy.”
He pours himself another drink and starts to sip it.
Large nostrils on her flat snout wrinkled, and she chased the expression with another shot.
“You like the energy of someone wanting nothing to do with you?”
Arlo snapped his fingers, and smoothly transitioned into a single-handed finger gun. “You bet your colorful butt I do. I love a woman who has that ‘done with the world’ energy.”
He snorted again and took another, heftier swig of his drink.
“Done with you, maybe.” The Lasat shook their head but kept drinking, seemingly having little more to say on the topic. “Is that it then? You enjoy chasing things that are difficult to obtain?”
“I also enjoy long walks on the beach and hitting things with my hammer,” he quipped, shifting his gaze to regard her out of the corner of his eye, “what about you? There’s gotta be more to you than your freakish tolerance for bad alcohol.”
Brows furrowed, the Lasat looked at him like he was a mad man– who liked beaches? And was hammer meant to be literal or yet another gross euphemism?
“There is also my freakish tolerance for flaying, flensing, evisceration, hobbling, disarming, degloving…motion sickness,” she tacked on idly, chewing on one long, stoney nail. “You can keep your beaches though. All that open water– pah.” A shudder raised her short fur.
“What? You have a problem with sand or something?” he questioned her with a chuckle, only for the smirk to be wiped off his face when he heard her go down the list of awful things she could tolerate. “I don’t even know what ‘flensing’ is,” he said, only to quickly raise his hand to preempt her from explaining, “No, I don’t want to know.”
“Must not be much of a swimmer, then.”
The Lasat closed her mouth with what might have been a pout when Arlo preempted an explanation of one particular bit of “dermatological” methodology. It transformed into an even more vicious scowl when he made his guess.
“What about it?” she snapped, quickly downing another shot. “Useless practice, it is. No water in bloody space. Anybody can live and die without ever touching a planet’s crust once.”
Laoch was just happily basking in the attention and smiled at Lektra. He loved smaller beings and gave her a smile letting out a sweet squeaking. “Rawrp.” Weyr laughed. “Well seems Laoch wants to stay with you all, guess I have no choice.”
“There’s definitely water in space, bro. It’s just hard to find.”
He pulled out a large chocolate bar and, after opening it, offered her a piece. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Arlo.”
“If you’re talking about ice in comets and the like–” the Lasat began, but cut off upon being offered the sudden treat, their starburst eyes fixing on it like a predator would prey. She snatched it quickly, just like she had the rose, and inspected it before taking the tiniest bite, more scraping at it with one front tooth to peel off a curl than actually biting in. “This form is called Hosta. Goddess watch you through the Night, Arlo.”
“This form?” he asked, “What’s that mean? And Goddess? Which one?”
“‘This form,’” the hand that wasn’t busy holding the chocolate piece as it was shaved down gestured the length of her body. “Me, like this, as a Lasat. I can be anything. Anything at all. Like a Zelosian. Or a Lonto, though I would need to study your kind better first not to kark it up. And plant-folk like yours are a nightmare and a half to shift to in the first place. So is fur. Fur is terrible. Imagine thinking about every follicle you have.”
They took another shot, ignoring his other query in anticipation of a reaction. Then they faced him head on as their fur suddenly rippled, skin darkening, changing color on only one half of their face. Their right eye shifted in shape and shrunk, sclera bleeding white, pupil rounding, iris ripening to a more Near-Human, plain brown. They blinked at him in time with one another.
“That’s … weird. But also really cool. You ever think about being a spy or something? You totally could with that skillset.”
Arlo produced a second chocolate bar and broke off a piece to eat. “Can you turn into other things, too? Like animals? Or just people?”
The shifter snorted with laughter from two different nostril configurations. “I have thought about it very much, aye, mate,” she said with a slow, significant wink. At the further questions and further chocolate, rather than answering, she held out her hand expectantly. “Tithe for the show?”
Arlo narrowed his eyes for second. Then, his eyes widened with sudden realization. “Right,” he said, the word stretching long, “I’m tracking.”
When Hosta held her hand out for more chocolate, he lowered his gaze at it. This was his last bar. But this was also good information. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said while handing her another piece of chocolate.
She grinned no less than four different sets of teeth at him; and one was composer of fingers. Showing off.
“Thanks,” she said, and then, “what’s your favorite animal, Arlo?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Boglings!” he grinned, “i actually have a pet bogling named Noodle. Do you want to see holopicts of him?”
“By your leave,” agreed the changeling, leaning nearer to observe.
Reiden watched the Shame Corner come into view, waiting for his ship to touch down in an open berth. Today would be a quick trip, most likely. Some fuel for his ship before heading back home after a long recon mission. He usually didn’t mind helping Orion with his jobs, but a heads up about that one would have been nice, at least so he could have known what he was getting into. But a job was a job. There was a chance of some minor excitement at one point, but it turned out to be nothing. Still, it wasn’t too bad; it gave him a chance to see different places. Although there was a little scuffle as he tried to leave the spaceport. It was over nothing but caused a larger headache than he thought it would. Maybe a small drink to unwind?
He stretched and strode off the ship, making his way toward the entrance to the station and then inside. The familiar smells greeted him again, though this time tinged with some notes of autumn. Not surprising since the station often tried to be seasonal. Thankfully the new things were sold alongside the typical offerings, rather than rotating certain ones out. It was the little things like that for which he was grateful.
<@244244163002892288> <@301514304845381632> Weyr in the mean time began to peruse some of the costumes nearby. He was never very good at fashion. Nice shirt, pants, shoes usually was fine. But he was curious to see what nice costume perhaps stepping outside of the box with something more colorful would work.
Koda rubbed his eyes as he started the Bastion’s landing sequence. He had handled toppling strongholds single handedly, lead countless people through battle and in governance, and more broken bones than he can remember….but the hardest thing he’s had to do so far is be a parent.
“Koda, darling, you have the list of stuff to get right?” Danitha asked him from behind, holding the swaddled Kallum in her arms.
“Yeah, got it right here.” He lifted up a piece of parchment with scribbled notes on it before turning to face his wife, “How’s our little lad doing?”
“Just fed him, he’s out like a light-” Her comment was broken by crying coming from their bedroom.
“Sounds like our little girl isn’t too happy.” Koda chuckled, “I’ll bring her around the store, she seems to calm down more when she’s in my arms.”
“I think she gets that from me.” Dani joked as the ship fully landed. The two went to grab the other babe. Tracyn was ever watchful, curled up on a perch next to the kids’ cradle. As Koda picked up Kassie and burped her a little, she seemed to calm down. Tracyn chirped and hopped up onto Dani’s shoulder.
“Seems the whole family is coming with us, eh?” Koda chuckled as they made their way out of the ship and towards the shopping area of the Shame Corner, getting general items as well as some emergency baby supplies. He’d be hard to miss by anyone in the area. The 6 foot 8 human holding such a tiny baby would be like seeing a mythical creature.
Almost minutes after the Bastion landed with Koda and the family, a TIE Avenger slowly docked inside. It’s colors were impressive to say the least, sleak reflective obsidian covered the majority of it; much like an Imperial-style floor coloring, and radiant gold trim. Emblazoned in gold on the upper portion of the solar arrays was the crest of the Regent, and below it, that of the Brotherhood.
The ramp from the starfighter slowly lowered, with a bellow of smoke coming out. Down from the inside strolled a slightly heavy-set Ewok that stood barely 2 foot 8 inches tall. Dressed in an custom-sized Iron Legion Officers uniform, the insignia of a Rear Admiral on its upper left breast, a pair of goggles on his head, and a cigar in his mouth. His coloring was unusual for an Ewok, a grey and white color mix, but also was the length of his fur. It was longer than normal and pointed in spots, with a particularly thick and long beard.
He looked around, his first time ever coming out here. It was an entirely new and foreign place to him, which kind of excited him a bit. It was nice to get out from the Prism and the constant yacking and maintenance noises of the Arx Capital Exchange for once.
“Clair,” the Ewok called behind him with the cigar still in the side of his mouth. “Mind the ship, will ye?”
“Of course, Director Rundlek.” a modulated droid voice responded from the ship as the ramp retracted back inside and the hatch closed. With a simple wave goodbye of his hand he proceeded inside, following not far behind Koda and company.
“Well you are welcome,” Rue encouraged, not minding Laoch latched on to him as Weyr began to browse costumes after Elly offered her own greeting. Fortunately for the two lost boys, they had her there to offer a suggestion or two until, with great timing, Sulla reappeared carrying her selected costume.
“It fits okay…but it doesn’t feel right. It’s not our colors,” she explained to her mother, looking around.
“We could maybe try to paint it?” Elly suggested, though she wasn’t much of an artist herself, she’d strap in to try, and Sulla and Rue both liked art.
“Maybe. I wanna look more too.”
“Sulla!” Rue crowed from nearby. “This is Weyr, and look, meet Laoch. He is a juvenile keeradak.”
The Twi'lek girl squealed at seeing the animal and ran over. Rue gently showed her how to hold him, if they could just get the keeradak out of Rue’s hair.
Meanwhile, with the other half of the family on approach, Rue’s entire being lit up, and he nearly ran to greet Danitha and Koda, or more accurately, the babies with them whom he had delivered, or would have if he wasn’t entangled.
“Kallum! Kassie! Hello, my little diasicas,” cooed the man.
It was at this point that tiny Lektra, in all her two year old glory, narrowed green eyes that matched her mother’s and latched on to Rue’s tail and legs firmly. She had not been happy recently any time the infant twins were around, refusing to hold them or play with them unlike her quite excited older sister. No, instead she cried a lot more, and screamed extra, and especially clung to Rue. He had no idea what to make of it, though Elly seemed to.
It seemed there were more introductions to make.
“Oh, Weyr, this is more of our Clan…Sir Koda, and Lady Danitha, and their daughters.”
<@301514304845381632> <@395091612952297484> <@1385116824814878940>
Reiden made his way deeper inside the station. The space was as known to him as the streets of Seraph. As he drew closer to the bar, a flap of wings drew his attention and looked up to see a familiar tailring swoop down to perch on his shoulder, letting out a little rasp of greeting.
He reached up and lightly rubbed its neck, grinning. “I missed you, too, Olive.”
As he stepped inside the bar, he paused for a brief moment when he saw who was on duty today. He then reminded himself that it would probably be fine. Besides, from the perspective of the patrons, it was better than having Acedia. He found an empty spot at the bar and sat down, giving a nod of greeting to the bartender.
“It’s nice to see you again, Invidia.” <@244244163002892288>
Arlo whipped out his datapad and, upon tapping on the screen to illuminate, he realized that the touch was no longer working!
“What the hell…,” he muttered to himself, before looking up to Hosta, “I’m going to have to get this fixed and show you later.”
“Huh.” Their twisted, many-featured face nonetheless clearly sneered at the datapad in contempt – and dissapointment – as they flapped their still-Lasat hand. “Bloody glow-pads, who needs them? Well, fine then, I simply won’t be able to be a Bogling. ‘aven’t seen one enough times to think o’ it, mate. But I can show you…” they trailed off at the perfect timing of the tiny Shame Corner mascot animal that flew onto Reiden. Internally, they smiled to see the man well enough. As it was though, they examined the tailring from a distance, then looked back to Arlo.
“You asked if I could turn to anything, animals? Yes, I can. Bit less…me, though. Bit more magick.”
With another wyrd twist in the air and a sulfurous, ichorous green gleam of glow, Hosta disappeared. In her place on the stool was a small tailring. It was sleek, particularly spined and boney, with elongated paws and stoney, black talons that served as stark contrast to most of its cyanotic white hide. Veins were blatantly visible red-blue vines running the membranes of its wings. Round, solid black eyes gleamed with mean intelligence in its small, arrow-headed round face, and long canines snarled over its lower jaw. It had not a hint of fur nor mane. But, there, speckled around its cheeks, crest, and down its spine, were tiny blooms of colored scales– red, purple, and gold.
It opened its mouth and its little neck darted out in a flash like a striking snake, taking another bite of the chocolate bar and winking at Arlo.
Many of the employees whom he recognized and who recognized him especially waved or smiled at Reiden as he passed. Olive in particular was pleased to coil around his neck once settled like a particularly spoiled scarf. As he entered and sat, Invidia’s head turned, and her almost not unpleasant expression morphed into an ugly scowl.
“Oh, hi, boytoy,” she sneered. Green eyes fell to Olive snuggled up under his chin and practically burned with an inner flame. “Yes, so great to see you, too. Want a drink?”
The way her tone dripped might make one wonder if she was only offering him something so she could spit in whatever she served.
Teebu strolled past Koda and their group and into the main area. He took the cigar out of his mouth for a moment as he whistled at the shear scale of things.
“Should'a brought my riding droid. This is gonna be a trip.”
“Seems you’ve got your hand full there, Rue. How’s it going?” Koda smiled and have a little wave to Lektra, “Elly stuck you with the kiddos again?”
Said sister shot her brother a quelling look, while Rue’s beaming smile flattened into a sharp frown, his ears folding down and back and tail lashing once where Lektra wasn’t holding it in a baby death grip.
“I am never ‘stuck’ with them! They are *everything,” he protested hotly, cheeks flushing, posture shying.
It seemed Elly didn’t need to snap back at her brother – definitely smack him later – yet, since he’d gone and stuck his own foot in his mouth, per usual.
“I’m just giving you a hard time.” Koda gave Rue a playful bump on the shoulder, “We’re technically brothers now. Plus how else am I to get that expression from Elly?” He gave her a teasing smirk.
<@301514304845381632>
“Firstly, I didn’t stick him with my kids. I’m right here. Secondly,” she walked over and gave him a half hug as to not crush the baby. “It’s really good to see you,” she pulled away and subsequently flicked his forehead. “Thirdly, be nice to your brother.”
Teebu stroked his beard with his paw, letting a puff of cigar smoke out from his nose.
Section by section he looked around. He couldn’t just bring anything back…Thran would probably kill him. Already he saw dozens of things he would like to get, just…explaining half of it would be the issue.
Definitely no alcohol. But, Chandrillan cigars? Illegal, yes…but maybe they could be found here.
The Evereni smiled. “Indeed always good to be kind to others. Someday kindness could someday save your life. It is a pleasure to meet all of you. I am Weyr and I so badly need some fashion assistance for a nice costume for me and Laoch here.” He gestured to the Keeradak sitting on Rue’s head.
As Laoch had heard the Twi'lek squeeing at him. He gave her a toothy smile and made a small dashing leap off of Rue’s head somersaulting right onto her left shoulder. And with a mighty squeaking “RAWRP!” turned around three times before settling down and began to nuzzle her lekku.
Rue pouted slightly and sighed towards Lektra, confiding to her softly, “I do not understand the social dynamics of sibling animosity.”
Nonetheless he rose, turning back to Weyr after placing a kiss on each twin baby’s forehead, even as he bent around Koda to do it.
“I am afraid I am neither certified nor reliably educated in the Fashions,” he confessed, smoothing at his skirts. “But perhaps Sulla and Elly and Danitha may assist.”
<@1385116824814878940> <@301514304845381632> <@395091612952297484>
“I still get judged for having multiple of the same outfits.” Koda sighed.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to assisting. Koda, can you take Kallum as well so I can have my hands free?”
Koda nodded and grabbed his little boy with his free arm. Tracyn kept from Dani’s shoulder to his. “I suppose I’m the place to be now.”
Weyr couldn’t help, but clap his hands together happily as he beamed at Rue. “Splendid!The more the merrier and you all seem like a wonderful bunch to be hanging out with. I would know because Laoch is calm. Usually if he suspects someone to have bad intentions, he gets antsy and more agitated, but he is very relaxed.”
Meanwhile, Laoche was now making small biscuits with his tiny claws, but taking care to not scratch or damage any fabric or skin on Sulla. He then clacked his tiny fangs together before yawning, sticking his tongue out and swishing his tail. “Rawwwwwrrp, rrrr.”
“All right then, what do you think I should be with this dark grey complexion?” He chuckled as he wiggled his eyebrows at them.
Sulla was trying very hard to contain her excited and squeaking noises while Laoch settled on her but a whimper still escaped as she felt him kneading. She looked at her mother with an expression that begged someone take a holoshot so this could be remembered longer, and Elly did so, giving Koda a reprieve from being glared at. Besides, there were a niece and nephew to fuss over.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Sulla promised, lifting one hand to let Laoch sniff it before she pet him up on her lekku. She seemed very proud given the keeradak knew they were trustworthy, especially her and Rue and her family. It was not the first she’d seen a keeradak – Rue could turn into one, and had taken her on rides, with permission – but she’d never gotten to meet a real real one, nevermind a baby.
Meanwhile, Rue gave a helpless shrug, deferring to his betters in the Mistresses– in his family on the matter. He did, though, offer up: “Master Weyr speaks as though his coloration is a difficulty that needs ‘doing with,’ as this one has learned the connotation of such phrase to imply being negative. This one thinks that Master Weyr is beautiful, and said complexion akin to a sea soon after storm, where the horizon meets the lowest portion of the unburdened cumulonimbus. It is a pleasant gray.”
Reiden decided to ignore what was basically a taunt. Even now, he still hadn’t won her over, for whatever reason. But that was fine. You couldn’t be friends with everyone, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be friendly. So instead, he smiled at her - a genuine one, at that. “I would, yes. A Corellian whiskey, please.”
If anything, Reiden being genuinely nice only seemed to piss Invidia off MORE. She looked about ready to throw a whiskey in his face, but was waylaid by the back door swinging out again, this time emitting someone else.
“Don’t you always?” purred Ira, the infamous head bartender walking out from behind the bar and bypassing the other patrons, including the Lonto guy with his own tailring, it seemed, to go right up to Reiden. She wound her muscled arms around his shoulders much like Olive did, displacing the little dragon with a grumbly huff as he crawled up instead to flop more overtop Ira’s bicep while one foot still touched Reiden’s chin. The tattooed woman grinned, showing her sharp teeth, and toed up easily to kiss him full and hard.
Her combat boot heels touched flat back down as she released him, tugging on his arm as she did so.
“Welcome back, papa,” she said with an amused look between him and Olive.
“Get a room,” grumbled her sister, and Ira made a rude gesture at her.
“Get friends, Evi,” she called back, and tugged at Reiden again, dragging him towards her office. “Come on. You don’t have long, yeah?”
The Ewok suddenly burped.
People stared.
And the shame corner was filled…
…with Shame.