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Post by Shaman Odin Alfodr on Feb 26, 2013 17:18:10 GMT -8
*In accordance with that species' reputation, Zeltros was known as a luxury world, where many went to vacation, owing to the planet's abundance of pleasurable facilities ranging from amusement parks to theatres, night clubs, and much more. There was almost always a planet-wide party occurring, and even when it wasn't, the Zeltrons were looking for a reason to throw one.
Zeltros' natural terrain was a lovely sight as well, consisting of verdant forests, glittering lakes, flowing rivers, and vast oceans.*
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
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Post by Syren on Aug 11, 2013 15:09:13 GMT -8
*Zeltros, capital city of the vibrant and rich world of the Zeltrons. Leelynd Reed's son called this planet home. Not that Leelynd had ever known about his progeny.
He was simply named Reed, and his Epicanthix features were the prominent over that of his Zeltron heritage save for his purple hair, so dark it was easily mistaken for the Epicanthix black. The chocolate hue of his eyes were also his mother's doing, the Red of hers mixing in with the dark tones of his father's.
Reed was about to leave Zeltron though, yearning as he did to pilot among the stars in search of... well something. Reed had no idea what he wanted to do or what he wanted to become, only that he was tired of living on Zeltros, grandiose as it was. He sat on the docks looking for the right ship to take him away. He had already passed through the spaceport looking over ships with a critical eye. He knew a little about piloting and how any good boat should fly, maintain it well enough, but he was green. Every captain that looked him over could see it, even through the bolstering lies he had come up with.
But there had been one. A woman. A weird looking one. Tall and very white with green hair. She seemed to love Zeltros as much as he had grown to loathe it. Reed watched for her as she exited the spaceport. He didn't know how exactly, but she seemed to fit in on Zeltros with her form fitting green and purple garb. He thought it clashed horribly, but it was eye catching to the general population. Or maybe it was the sadness that came off of her.
Epicanthix Reed did look, but under all that sinew and debonair, lay a minor telepath who could out drink the great Reyn Skirata on a bender. He followed her into a tap cafe around the corner. Service droids lined up to serve her, but she simply by passed them and went straight to the bar. She smiled at the Zeltron behind the bar. Reed expected that she had a preference for the living and breathing rather than the electronic and programmed. Outer Rim girl, he thought to himself. He dodged into an empty booth to observe her.
The Zeltron behind the bar flirted incessantly with the woman, but she only smiled at his advances. Reed thought this was odd behavior. Few could withstand a Zeltron with his charm set to maximum burn. Reed was beginning to find himself attracted to the man. But in the end, the woman took her drink and ambled away to a table, passing his booth with barely any notice. Was she meeting someone? Or simply waiting for her ship to be prepped?
Reed fidgeted in his seat, until a service droid demanded that he order something, anything, if he was going to take up a whole booth. Sad to say, Reed did not have any money to pay for a drink. Instead he patted the golden lacquered cheek of the service droid as he stood up, and went over to the captain's table.
She glanced up at him, silver eyes with the faintest of green on the inner edges. Weird eyes, he thought. Instead he tried to look suave and sophisticated as he said,* "Hi."
*Unfortunately the salutation came out strained and squeaky, as will sometimes do to the adolescent trying to pull off cool. His cheeks reddened almost to the point of a naturally colored Zeltron.
The woman raised an eyebrow and returned his hello. Reed continued to fidget, then abruptly sat down at her table.*
"Can I help you with something?" *Her voice was rich and deep, she seemed to purr when she spoke to Reed. He blinked, quickly searching for something on the table to keep his hands busy.*
"I need to get off of Zeltros." *He answered as soon as he had begun to unwrap a set of cutlery from a tightly wound napkin.
The woman sighed deeply as she reclined back in her chair. He did not want her to disregard him outright, so he launched into a series of explanations in rapid succession.* "I don't have any money, but I can work, and I really need a job, but just now here, your ship is beautiful and I really, really need to get out of here fast, like yesterday fast, can I please, please, please, please go with you." *He clasped his hands together and held them before her, pleading with every fiber of his being to take him away from the hell hole that he thought Zeltros to be.
The captain blinked slowly at him, and his heart sank. Then she asked,* "What's your name?"
"Reed," *He answered quickly hoping that he still had a chance.*
"Just Reed?" *He nodded slowly barely breathing, let alone wondering why she would ask.
She stared at him for another minute, then downed her glass of whatever. She stood and his heart sank for half a heart beat. She was half way to the door when she turned back to see if he was following. She crooked her finger in a come here gesture and then pointed at him. Reed veritably vaulted out of the chair and out the door behind her.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232 
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Nov 1, 2013 10:26:42 GMT -8
They came with Charter. They always came with charter. Through Anobis, they changed airlines and headed strait for Zeltron.
The first one was Eir. She was a named Banshee, whom had earned a name through her chemical and biological expertise. Not all slavery is the classical kind, the service sector slavery. Some larger corporations have daughter corporations in the unknown or untravelled parts of space, where they run secret experiments and sometimes even abduct and enslave learned individuals. Eir was one of these. She was older then most Banshees, in her late forties, and well educated. She was one of the hardest nuts Atia had to crack, when it comes to turning Banshees. The Twilek was wiser and more intelligent then our yellow Nightsister, and could outsmart her. But not even Eir could withstand.
For two years she DID hold out, but as she is now, she is a new person then whoever she was. That person was dead and forgotten. She was a Banshee now, a Named One. And she had a purpose. She will be creating a weapon, and not for some lousy company or some corrupt government. She would be making a weapon for her sisters, and her mistress.
And if all went well, the Mandalorians would field test it.
As she checked out her luggage (licensed medical equipment mixed with a womans wardrobe, that made a lot of luggage). She was a green Twilek, and she wore a khaki robe from some designer with prestige. And a yellow shawl. As she checked her luggage out, an other twilek happened to check hers out too, and that Twilek started to walk beside Eir. She was a red twilek, wearing black leather looking very attractive and maybe just a tee bit offensive. Her shawl was black. And she lacked a name. 30 was all she was called. A number.
Joining the two of them in the lobby, as if she just happened to just walk beside two other twileks was a yellow, wearing black too, but this was a respectable secretaries outfit, white shawl on her neck. 31 dragged one of those wheeled luggages.
The three of them just happened to stop by two identical yellow twileks, twins. 32 and 33. Only a few could really know witch was wich, especially because they wore the same outfits, shirts from an Anobis university and denim jeans, dark purple shawls around their necks.
The five of them got into the same taxi, and disapeared in the city.
The Banshees had come to Zeltros.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2013 20:18:13 GMT -8
Without a single stumbling step as she weaved through the crowds, one of the many Zeltron girls known to this world made her way through the doors and bee-lined for the bar. A few patrons eyed her, though, but no in the same way they watched the dancers with intrigue. No, this one was different, if it couldn't be told simply by her abnormal attire. White under a black cloak. Colorless. Boring.
She sat down and paid no mind to those next to her, their eyes running over her body as if she meant them harm. In such a place like Zeltros? Even more, a place like the Scarlet Arya? She laughed at the thought and allowed the smile to form at her lips. Crystalline eyes looked up at the man as she bared the ivory smile, his tension quickly dissipating.
"Nenet."
Alex's booming voice was enough to carry over the music that thrummed through the club. Her eyes snapped over to greet him, an innocence within as if she didn't know what he meant.
"Oh, come now. You know better than that. When will you just call by my first name?"
Her charming wit wasn't a match against the bartender, but even he couldn't suppress a smile to her presence.
"When you give up the jobs and come back here, where you belong," he says with a wink. "It's hard to watch one of the better dancers we had up and leave to risk her life with odd jobs."
She pursed her lips as she looked over Alex in deep thought, but with her returning grin, she leaned over the bar's counter to near her old friend.
"You never even called me that when I did work here. If it'll make you sleep better at night, though, I'll be here until my next job."
With a suggestive raise of her eyebrows, Killian's sing-songy tone fades as she leans back in her stool and runs her hand through the silvery white locks. She watched Alex carefully for a moment, gauging his reaction. Though he didn't give her what she wanted. Drats. Always like Alex...
"If that's your way to ask for your job back until then, lass, you got it. You start tomorrow evening." Alex looks her over before he adds, "You might want to find your old wardrobe. Not even your charm is enough to have a successful night looking like that."
She laughed, leaning in to kiss Alex on the cheek before sliding her slender frame from the stool.
"I promise, I promise," she says, the silken laugh dying down under the pounding of the music that swallowed the room in its ecstasy. "Just don't expect me for long. I hear that jobs are abounding nowadays, especially for a cute girl with a crew."
"Then keep them out of here," Alex laughed with a boisterous chuckle. "If any buyer becomes suspicious to but an ounce of the trouble that they really cause during the job, you might be here for the rest of your life."
With a groan, Killian twirled herself around and waved a dismissive hand towards Alex. "No one will hear a word. Have a little faith," she said with a mischievous grin. With all said and done, the woman turned and headed for the room that she knew was still there for her.
Less than a day before the fun began.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Nov 21, 2013 6:22:36 GMT -8
The first week of their stay the Banshees took into hotel rooms looking for work. One became a dancer, one a school teacher, one got job at their local communication technology provider, and the last became a post office clerk. Within a week they got a new flat too, with many rooms and also a storage container.
The sleeper cell, which it actually was worked day in and day out in this first week to learn about their environment politically and socially. They would gain friends and start to interact socially. At the end of the first week, they had abducted their first test subject, a male zeltron.
Tests started on this subject. Their objective being be able to harvest the pheromones of the zeltrons successfully and the ability to weaponise and commercialise it. Also, to preform tasks that helped other cells in the galaxy like sending packages or buffering comm calls back to juvex.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 21, 2013 17:31:34 GMT -8
It was just another night. Nothing seemed particularly special about this night, save for a strange Rodian who seemed to follow her every move tonight. It wasn't out of the ordinary, though. Killian was lucky to get through one night without an especially interested patron.
The dark-skinned Zeltron took the mainstage as if dancing came as easy as breathing. With every bend, spin, and flick of of her white hair, the crowd seemed to melt in the palm of her hand. Gaining a living here was easy, like child's play. Every passing night reminded her why she left in the first place. She didn't want easy. Her adventurous soul cried out for more than these easy games.
With a final twirl and swing of her hips, she felt the strange but familiar touch of another fully against her. A grin upon her lips, a Twi'lek dancer took to the stage, her vibrant blue skin reflecting the club lights oh so well and contrasting with an ethereal beauty against the deep red skin of her partner. Killian spent but a moment with her, just to tease the eyes that watched the two. As soon as she was sure the other had taken control of her stage, the Zeltron danced her way off the stage to enjoy her next hour of peace before she was to get back to work.
As she always did, Killian headed for the bar, only stopping brief moments between for the men and women alike of all sorts of races and species who attempted to grab her attention. All the same, she left each and every one of them with the vivid scent of the pheromones that radiated about her presence to suspend them into a state of sheer ecstasy during their stay.
"Nenet, we need to speak. Now."
Alex's voice was low, concerned. His behavior wasn't shaken by her presence as all the others.
With a soft sigh, she slid into the stool and rested her chin against her knuckles. She pouted slightly as she looked over her friend with a disappointed gaze, one that could break any heart of the other men in the Scarlet Arya.
"Make me my favorite drink first, then you can talk all you want, okay?" she suggests with her innocent smile that made her appear anything but. Taking little time at all, Alex placed the clear glass before Killian, the liquid reflecting in the Zeltron's crystalline eyes. "Mm, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were prepared for me to say that."
Alex only nodded his head as Killian took the glass and sipped at her Breath of Heaven.
"You need to be a bit more careful," Alex murmured quietly to her, just loud enough for her to hear him, but soft enough that he wouldn't be overheard by any of the other patrons. "Searan disappeared. Hasn't shown up for days now. It's unlike the lad to up and disappear without a word, without a trace."
Killian near choked on her drink as Alex's words settled in her mind. She immediately set her drink down, her blue eyes focused solely upon her friend now. "Searan.. I remember him. He was a bit of an odd one, but adorable in his own way. Has anyone tried looking for him?"
Alex eyed her, as if he couldn't believe the words that came from her mouth. "Of course people have tried, lassie. Like I said, not a trace of him, though."
Nibbling on her bottom lip, Killian was struck with a thought after a short moment of deep thinking. Once the idea was struck in her mind, she downed the rest of her drink in little time, slammed the glass back down on the table, and rushed from the bar and into her room just upstairs of the club. Alex didn't even have time to speak a word or grab at her to stay.
She strapped her belt to her hips, guns and knives holstered within. Perhaps she was going for deadly sexy, some might say. She was hoping for that. she didn't even bother grabbing her cloak. With her shocking gold and electric blue outfit, she would be the beacon she wanted to be for whatever she might come to face.
She descended the stairs as quickly as her feet would take her. She headed for the door, only briefly hesitating to back to Alex, "Cover for me!"
"Where are you going?!"
"To find Searan!"
And with that, Killian disappeared out the door of the Scarlet Arya, leaving a frustrated Alex to do as she had asked. No way in the galaxy was he going to attempted to fill her spot on the stage.
"Damn it, Nenet... I tell you to be careful, and this is what you do."
She didn't know what sort of trouble would meet her, if any. Frankly, she didn't care. She reveled in the excitement. In the adventure. In the unknown.
Never in a million years would she have imaged that Searan had been kidnapped by the Banshees.
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Nov 22, 2013 6:56:27 GMT -8
One of the datadiscs in the Banshees posession on Zeltros was marked "SUBJECT ONE". If listened, the cold words of Eir was heard.
-Eir-
"Subject one came to us drunk and drugged, it had taken us several days to cleans his body of alien chemicals. Intresting facts had been found. It looks like, when a Zeltron is affraid, or does not fill up the needed criteria to move from Survival Instinct further up the ladder of well being, the Zeltron does not produce pheromones.
In short, Subject One had been unable to give us any workable amount of pheromones, which gains us one conclusion.
Subjects need to be calm and feel safe if any workable amounts of pheromones are to be extracted. Drug tests are advised.
-/!(/%!/%=(-
Day five, Hallucinogen test 1. A starter dose of hallucinogen acid was applied and the subject answered with violent episode. Subject had to be calmed with mechanical and chemical...
*Male screaming in the background, female screams back, sound of beatings and painful moaning. Kinda explains "Mechanical" calming...*
... means. The Subject reached a state of tranquillity when doses of both calming and hallucinogen acids were applied. Pheromone building minimal, further testing with mixture of drugs advised.
-/!(/%!/%=(-
Day seven. Subject one has become thin. He is still resisting food and drink. He is nourished through IV and his vitals are seemingly stable, but he seems to have a resistance to some of the chemicals applied. Some result in violent episodes, and in once instance, heart failure. Without the needed medical equipment, I can not determine if this is the cause of previous trauma, or if captivity and testing is the actual cause. Controll Subjects advised.
Test five. A mixture of hallucinogen and sexual libido enhancing mixture was applied. Subject seems to lack the violent episodes from before, and seems calm and... sexually ready. Pheromone building has increased with over two hundred percent, and has now reached harvest-able levels.
-/!(/%!/%=(-
Day eight. Subject ended. Cause of death was heart faliure. Unable to determine cause because lack of medical equipment. Removed pheromone glands for further study. Subject was disposed off.
Two new subjects are needed, one for harvest testing, and other to be control group."
Saeran was found in a dumpster behind an alley. After he was dumped, he was poured down with fuel and lit on fire. He could only be identified based on his tooth record and DNA mapping.
Never in a million years would the Banshees have Imagined that Searan was dumped just behind Nenets home.
Two days later, an other two Zeltron males vent missing. One from Nenets district, and an other from the other side of the city.
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Post by Gaeza H'rel on Mar 28, 2014 10:52:27 GMT -8
If you want to be pretty, head to the place where the most beautiful people live. It wasn't hard for Gaeza to find a plastic surgeon who could give her a new face. The recovery had been hard, and her escort detail had a difficult time not getting caught up in the constant partying of the capital. Gaeza had just had the bandages removed this afternoon. She needed to have her hair done and some makeup on but the results couldn't be argued with. She still looked a little puffy but the doctor encouraged her to drink plenty of water. She would.
She was tired. Ever since she heard of her father's death, she had been hiding from the world around her. There was no word on Mel, and if she had survived the battle, she would most likely be a prisoner. She had tried to see their whereabouts but the Force would not cooperate. She wanted to strike at the Empire but she wasn't oblivious to the millions her father killed. It didn't dull her pain though. She still missed him.
Another week passed her by and she was slowly getting used to the new face in the mirror. She began to wear regular clothes and her armor was packed away and stored on her ship. She could go to Mandalore but at the moment, she just wanted to be free of being his daughter in the wake of the war or having the face of the new Emperor.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2016 8:16:01 GMT -8
Walking backwards to enjoy the sight of a particularly voluptuous Zeltron with her purple hair worn in a pony-tail for a moment longer and from another angle, Nkosana grins cheerily as he announces for what feels to the rest of the crew like the billionth time since they had set down, "Yeah, like, I totally think we made the right decision guys. I'm getting, like, a really good vibe from the city already."
Clapping the gangly, heavily bearded Nish on a shoulder, Vejide, the crew's mechanic, points out, "That's kinda what the whole planet is all about, Nko'. I think you'd have to have something seriously wrong with you not to be feeling good vibes."
Head bobbing as he nods in agreement, Nkosana points at the crew's currently scowling captain, Fumnanya, and asks in an amused tone, "Like, how do you explain him then?"
Laughing with a rare smile as the planet's atmosphere overcomes even her taciturn nature, the crew's first mate, Dikelide, punches Fumnanya in the arm and says, "That's a pretty good question, Captain. Why the long face?"
Summoning a smile, not wanting his grumpiness to dampen the high spirits that have come over the crew since they set down and agreed to have a few drinks together before going their separate ways for the three days they voted to spend in Zeltros, Fumnanya jokes, "I'm just calculating how much of my retirement fund I'm probably going to wind up spending before we leave."
"Oh come on, the brown and black furred Bothan says as he adjusts the collar of his jacket fussily, live a little, Captain."
Waving his datapad in the air, Nkosana announces excitedly, "I totally know where we have to go. Paradise cantina. Raising an arm to call a hovertaxi, Nkosana says, Trust me, you guys will love this place."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2016 7:59:06 GMT -8
Just a few drinks, Fumnanya remembers saying to himself as he and his crew entered the cantina aptly named Paradise, unaware of just how amusing he will come to find his naivete days later.
The large, lush oasis awaiting the crew is filled, as one would expect such an establishment on Zeltros to be, with wealthy pleasure and thrill seeking tourists as well as with numerous attractive Zeltrons of both sexes looking, as most Zeltrons are, to indulge in hedonistic pleasures of many varieties while also making sure that any visitors to their world have as much fun as one is expected to have on Zeltros. The music to be heard in Paradise is either loud, throbbing, and sensually primal, or soft and almost painfully delicate in its invitation to intimacy, and few that enter can resist the music's irresistible siren call to abandon themselves thoroughly to dance, drink, be merry, and indulge in whatever excesses their desires lead them to.
The crew's plans for a team building exercise are forgotten within twenty minutes, each of them being successfully tempted and lured away one by one to pursue activities or individuals that attract them. Fumnanya remembers that he and Sango, the crew's Bothan medic and chef, were the last to part ways when the brown and black furred Bothan had been beckoned into a pool by a pair of shapely, purple haired Zeltron twins that, like nearly all of the Zeltrons to be seen, had been strikingly attractive and somehow oddly familiar even though there is no possible way they had ever been seen, much less met, before. Not long after Sango had been enticed by the bikini clad twins, Fumnanya himself had found himself swept along by a group of Zeltrons and a few tourists caught up in their wake when an achingly beautiful Zeltron named Sabitri had caught his eye.
Two days later, the events leading to his waking up on a couch in one of the most opulent living rooms he has ever seen a blur of nightclubs, dance floors, casinos, and - unless he had drank so much that he was hallucinating - at one point an amusement park, Fumnanya had momentarily entertained the notion of trying to locate his crew, the idea abandoned without a second thought when Sabitri had appeared from the kitchen and informed him that she had breakfast waiting and that she had heard of a fabulous party they simply must attend.
When, days later, he would finally find himself and his crew escaping the nearly never ending party that was to be found on Zeltros, Fumnanya would find himself understanding how it was that attempted invasions of the world had been forgotten once the invaders had reached the surface and encountered the people and atmosphere of the world they sought to invade.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2016 20:16:16 GMT -8
Two days later, the events leading to his waking up on a couch in one of the most opulent living rooms he has ever seen a blur of nightclubs, dance floors, casinos, and - unless he had drank so much that he was hallucinating - at one point an amusement park, Fumnanya had momentarily entertained the notion of trying to locate his crew, the idea abandoned without a second thought when Sabitri had appeared from the kitchen and informed him that she had breakfast waiting and that she had heard of a fabulous party they simply must attend.
The noise of the revelry in and around the royal palace can be heard long before Fumnanya and his party join the party itself, and the mirthful, often amatory atmosphere of the lively festivities is, naturally, infectious. The King and Queen, every bit as charismatic, magnetic, effervescent, and sybaritic as one would imagine the elected rulers of a world as opulent and hedonistic as Zeltros should or perhaps must be, mingle freely among the revelers, watched over vigilantly by the members of the planets defense force even though it is all but unimaginable that anyone might prove able to resist the heady carnival atmosphere enough to harbor any ill-will towards the elected monarch and his bride.
Not long after Fumnanya arrives and has been swept up in the festivities, he finds himself being swept up into a hearty embrace by the King himself. "Fumnanya!" Enitan cries in delight, clapping the smuggler on the back as one would clap an old, dear friend on the back, and then steps back, surprisingly revealing that Vejide and Dikeledi are in the royal couple's entourage at the moment, so that his Queen can greet Fumnanya in a very different kind of way, exchanging an unhurried and sensual embrace with the smuggler before stepping back and draping her arm around Dikeledi's waist.
"So great to meet you!" Enitan, one arm around Vejide's shoulder while his other arm wraps around his Queen's waist, tells Fumnanya with a smile.
"So very great, Makena agrees in a voice at once both silken and seductively husky. We've heard ever so much about you, the Queen continues with a lingering glance towards Dikelide to indicate the obvious source of their knowledge of the smuggler. Come and join us, Makena beckons Fumnanya with a finger as she turns towards a nearby collection of decadent floor pillows for lounging on, adding intentionally with a playfully mysterious air, We have a favor to ask of you." |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2016 22:57:15 GMT -8
"Heeeyyy . . . you! Fumnanya answers the Zeltron that materializes and hugs him as though they know one another, so accustomed to being accosted in one form or another by Zeltrons of both sexes after being on their homeworld for a few days now that it no longer surprises him or makes it difficult to keep from backing away from the ones that get a bit more frisky with their greetings than he would like. As he has absolutely no idea who either the male Zeltron or the female that hugs him in a frisky fashion that he has no trouble at all not backing away from are, Fumnanya is more than a little relieved when he sees that two members of his crew are apparently with the fetching duo, and he says, Yeah, it's really, really great to meet you two . . . too," after the Zeltrons both say how great it is to meet him.
"Have you now? Fumnanya asks the female Zeltron that motions for him to follow her after she says that she has heard a lot about him, and then shoots Dikelide an interrogative glance to silently ask just what it is that she has told the pair about him. Reaching out and grabbing Dikelide's hand after the female Zeltron says something about a favor, Fumnanya smiles as he says, Really? Well, I'll be right there and we can talk about that favor. I just need to speak to my associate here a second. After the others have gone ahead, Fumnanya keeps a smile on his face as he asks his co-pilot and first mate, Ok, so who are these two, and what have you . . ."
"Are you wearing a skirt?" Dikeledi asks with an amused smile, apparently so caught up in the party atmosphere that she is having trouble focusing on the topic at hand.
"Of course not, this is a dhoti, Fumnanya explains, unaware he is every bit as unfocused at the moment as Dikeledi, waving a hand up and down to indicate the long pleated skirt and tight fitting, short sleeved blouse that Dikeledi is wearing, Love your lehenga choli by the way, that purple really suits . . . Shaking his head as though to clear it, Fumnanya tries again, Wait, now who the frak are these two?'
Lightly hitting Fumnanya on the arm, Dikeledi enthusiastically exclaims, "They're the frakking King and Queen of Zeltros!"
"Shut the front door," Fumnanya says with a skeptical expression.
"For real! Dikeledi says, nodding her head as though affirming her own claim. They rock, by the way. Enitan, the King, is . . ."
Waving his hands to try and prevent things from getting off topic again, Fumnanya asks, "And who do they think we are?"
Waving her hand as though to brush any concerns her captain might have that she or Vejide might have revealed their criminal activities, the Shownarri explains, "Oh, yeah, we're all acquirers of rarities and antiquities. They probably, she puts an arm through Fumnanya's and pats his hand reassuringly while leading him to join the others, just want to ask us to find something rare or antiquey and bring it back to them. No big deal I'm sure, and I'm sure it'll pay well too, wait and see."
Sitting down on one of the cushions, Fumnanya grins winningly as he asks the royal couple, "So, tell me about this favor."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2016 18:40:41 GMT -8
Patting the cushion beside her as she beckons Dikeledi to come and lounge beside her, Makena clucks her tongue in amusement after looking towards her spouse to see if he will be making Fumnanya aware of the job offer he had proposed earlier to Vejide and Dikeledi only to observe that he is presently preoccupied with whispering sweet, more likely than not suggestive, nothings into Vejide's ear. After nuzzling up to Dikeledi and lacing the fingers of her hand through those of the Shownarri, Makena explains airily to Fumnanya, "As we do intend to pay you handsomely should you agree to perform this favor, I suppose it might be more accurately characterized as a job, but that's really neither here nor there I suppose. Laughing at herself for having begun her intended explanation with a tangent, the Queen waves her free hand breezily towards the King and says, My dear Enitan has always wanted a pair of Vornskr, and when he learned that you and your darling friends here are in the business of locating and procuring exotic and rare things for buyers, why he thought that Fate had decided to drop the chance to fulfill that particular desire at long last into his lap. Along, she titters, with your delightfully delicious mechanic it would seem."
Momentarily distracted when she reaches up her free hand to brush an errant lock of Dikeledi's red hair behind an ear, Makena sighs and then, recalling that she was speaking with Fumnanya, reluctantly looks away from the Shownarri to give him a flirtatiously imploring look as she asks, "So, do you have it in your heart to jaunt off to Myrkr to gather up a lovely pair of newborn Vornskr pups for my dearest Enitan? Or, she frowns prettily and merely playfully as though to decline on the chance to please her and the King would be to devastate her utterly, will you cruelly doom that dream of his to die?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2016 22:07:39 GMT -8
More than a little distracted by the sight of Dikeledi and Makena interacting with one another, Fumnanya does his best to follow along with the Queen as she goes about explaining just what it is that she and the King wanted to ask of him and his crew while also not staring too openly. Nodding before he has even fully processed what has been asked of him, smiling and probably flooded with pheromones and maybe even telepathic suggestions (or maybe simply filled with the desire to please someone as pleasant and friendly as the Queen seems to be), Fumnanya says, "Yeah, I mean, yes, or wait, I mean no, no I won't be letting the dream die. Head tilted to the side as his mind catches up with the conversation and he realizes just what he has tacitly agreed to, Fumnanya holds up two fingers and asks, That was two Vornskyr pups?"
Smiling as she nods, Dikeledi clarifies helpfully, "Two newborn pups."
"Right, right, Fumnanya says, trying to keep the smile on his face as he starts recalling what knows of Vornskyrs and realizes how difficult and risky it is going to be to successfully fulfill this particular task. Clearing his throat, doing his best to look and sound confident, Fumnanya reminds himself to try and stay on topic and treat this like any other job even if their clients are a King and Queen as he asks, So, how soon would you like this to be done, and how much are you planning to pay us for the acquisition and transportation of these pups?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2016 6:07:13 GMT -8
Waving a passing scantily clad serving woman carrying a tray of wine filled glasses over, Makena takes one and hands it to Dikeledi, then asks Fumnanya, "Wine? as she takes another glass for herself. After taking a sip of her drink, Makena tells Fumnanya airily, Oh, there is really no rush, no rush at all. We'd not want you take lovely, dear Diekledi and Vejide from us so soon, would we, Enitan my love?"
Shaking his head, the King agrees, "Quite so, quite so. Taking a glass of wine for himself after passing one to Vejide, Enitan pats the cushion beside him on the opposite side from Vejide to request that the smuggler he believes to be a mere dealer in antiquities or curiosities come closer as he tells Fumnanya, When you can tear yourselves from Zeltros, cruelly depriving us all of company, especially that of your charming, beautiful associates here, why then will be as good a time as any another to acquire my Vornskyr. As for your price, he waves a hand absently to suggest credits are no issue at all, simply name it and, unless it is completely and utterly absurd, I am confident it will be agreeable."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 0:14:44 GMT -8
"Sure, thanks," Fumnanya tells the Queen when asked if he'd like a glass of wine, and nods with a laugh to indicate he understands there is no hurry to gather his crew and leave to complete the unexpected job that they have apparently stumbled onto thanks, apparently, at least to some degree to the fact that his ship's co-pilot and mechanic have attracted the attention and affection of Makena and her husband.
Lifting a hand and shaking his head to decline the King's invitation to move closer as politely as possible, and hoping that no pheromones will brought to bear to persuade him to change his mind, Fumnanya takes a drink as he considers what price to set for the successful completion of the job he and his crew have been hired to do. Deciding to aim high since the royal couple seem well able to afford a figure in the range he has in mind, Fumnanya starts out by smiling winningly as he asks for, "Ten million credits. That sounds about right for a job as dangerous as this little venture is likely to be, wouldn't you say?"
In a nightclub elsewhere in the city, Nkosana closes his eyes as he bounces happily up and down amidst a sea of Zeltrons and other beings bouncing, dancing, or swaying to the trance-like rhythmic beat of the heavy isotope music playing so loudly that it nearly blots out all other sounds while the strobic flashing of the multicolored lights give the club's interior the feel of a fever-inspired, hallucinogenic dream. The fact that Nkosana is both grandly drunk and tripping on glitterstim, his mind filled with the chaotic swirl of the thoughts of his fellow revelers which the temporary telepathic ability the glitterstim grants him give him access to, only serves to enhance the Nish's sense of having succumbed to a particularly vivid, pleasantly confusing dream that, given that he has lost track of time more than once over the past few days in addition to having blacked out more than once due to his nearly constant intake of alcohol and spice of one variety or another, seems to have persisted for an unknown length of time.
Normally confining his spice use to the comparatively weaker ryll that he has easy access to thanks to the fact the crew he is a part of has steady work transporting that variety of spice from Ryloth to Tatooine, Nkosana had managed, by a combination of discipline and luck to keep his addiction from spiraling out of control until arriving on Zeltros, when the overall party atmosphere and lack of inhibition inspired by the populace had made a complete surrender to his addiction all but inevitable.
Perhaps also inevitable
is the glitterstim overdose that sends Nkosana
crashing
to the dance floor, his eyes rolling back into his head as he begins seizing.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 14:42:08 GMT -8
Enitan smiles happily, finding Fumnanya's asking price to be reasonable, and waves a hand magnanimously as he declares, "Done!"
Tittering in amusement with a shake of her head, not as inclined to financial frivolity as her spouse, Makena leans over to pat his thigh affectionately as she advises, "Never agree to the first offer, lover of mine, it's seldom made in earnest, but . . . waving her hand to dismiss the lesson when she can see Enitan has already lost interest in the impromptu lesson in the art of negotiation, Makena looks from her spouse to Fumnanya and suggests a more reasonable price, Two million still seems somewhat high to me, but I suppose the potential dangers involved warrant a sufficiently attractive reward to make facing them worth your while."
The dancers around Nkosana part to give him some space as much as, in the case of many of the Zeltrons present, to distance themselves from the unpleasantness unfolding in their midst. Fortunately for Nkosana, despite their aversion to distressing or disagreeable events and the often attendant emotions, the fact that not all visitors to the planet are able to responsibly indulge in all there is to indulge on Zeltros is neither unknown nor unexpected to many of the natives of the pleasure planet, and so there are typically at least a few present that know how important quick action is if the unpleasantness is to be prevented from progressing to something unfortunate in a final kind of way.
A male Zeltron with a rudimentary understanding of what should been done in the event of a seizure kneels beside Nkosana and turns him on his side to prevent aspiration in the event the poor wretch vomits, and shouts for someone to call an ambulance as he does his best to see if Nkosana is still breathing. A Rodian tourist quicker to stop gawking or moving away from the scene than most uses his comlink to summon an ambulance.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 20:26:21 GMT -8
The surprised elation that Fumnanya feels when the King agrees to his opening asking price is all too short lived, the Queen stepping into the negotiations and countering with what Fumnanya feels pretty sure based on what Makena had been trying to tell Enitan concerning how the whole bartering process usually goes is a low ball offer. Ten million credits would have settled a lot of his considerable debt, and two million credits are nothing to turn one's nose up at, but the Epicanthix wouldn't want to accept the first counter offer made any more than Makena would accept the first price set. Smiling and holding his hands out at his sides with a charming smile, Fumnanya tells Makena, "For you, most lovely of Queens, I would go and collect those pups just for one beautiful smile from you, buuuut since I do have my crew to think about, I really must insist on a higher price in light of the peril we're certain to face when trying to wrest newly born Vornskyrs from their sure to be less than pleased mothers and fathers. Four million sounds like a far more reasonable reward for something so dangerous, wouldn't you agree?"
Nkosana does not vomit, but he does lose control of his bladder before the seizure ends, and when his respiration is checked his respiratory rate will be found to be highly elevated, just as his heart rate will be found to be not only tachycardic, but also of the unsustainable ventricular variety that can often lead to fibrillation if not treated. Nkosana's temperature will be elevated, his arms and legs continue to twitch even after the seizure has ended, and he also remains unresponsive to any verbal inquiries. If the paramedics think to check his person at any point for identifying information or potential contact information of his friends or family, they will find that his comlink has only Fumnanya, Dikeledi, Vejide, and Sango's personal comm frequencies stored on it.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 17:41:15 GMT -8
Laughing merrily, Makena shakes her head as she says in an amused tone that suggests she finds their haggling more entertaining thank irksome, "You flatter me ever so prettily, Fumnanya, but not so prettily I will be swayed to pay such an insanely high price. Three, I believe, is far more sane, and so that is what I will offer you. Adopting a gaze meant to be more stern than playful though her tone remains just as bantering, the Queen cautions, I will also suggest that you accept so gracious an offer before I am forced to tell my dear Enitan that he will need to find another way to fulfill his silly little dream."
The paramedics, noting the symptoms Nkosana exhibits, administer medications to lower his heart rate, and temperature, and then reassess his condition as they get him onto a hover stretcher and begin transporting him to their vehicle so that he can be taken to the nearest medical center. While one of the paramedics comms ahead to alert the medcenter that they are on their way, and gives them Nkosana's vital signs and symptoms, the second uses the contact information on Nkosana's comlink to comm Dikeledi, as she is the first name listed in the contacts. Once Dikeledi is contacted, and the paramedic determines Dikeledi's realtionship to Nkosana, the paramedic then quickly fills her in on what has happened, and where they will be taking Nkosana.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 5:58:49 GMT -8
With a charming smile accompanied by as courtly a bow as he can manage from a seated position, Fumnanya tells Makena, "My lovely Queen, you have yourself a deal." As he takes a drink of his wine after settling himself comfortably on the floor cushions while imagining what other rewards the Queen might offer if he and his crew successfully complete the task they have now officially been hired to complete, Fumnanya gives Dikeledi an inquisitive glance when the Shownarri, with clear reluctance, extricates herself from Makena's embrace to answer her comlink, his curiosity giving way to concern when he sees the change that comes over his co-pilot and first mate as she listens to whatever is being said to her.
"Thank you, Dikeledi says in a tone equal parts angry and worried, and then turns to Fumnanya after dropping the hand clasping her comlink to her side, It's Nko, she says with a sigh, visibly collecting herself and shedding all traces of the earlier relaxed and casual mood she had revealed herself capable of, he's being taken to a nearby medcenter."
"Frak, Fumnanya says, his pleasant daydreams about Makena and the impact the job she has offered his crew will have on his debts fading as, able to guess from Dikeledi's demeanor that what has befallen Nko is almost certainly an overdose of some kind, a sense of guilt floods over him at the thought of what could happen to Nkosana. Knowing of the Nish's addiction, Fumnanya feels, gives him some responsibility for what has happened; bringing his crew here, of all places, and then essentially abandoning Nkosana to his own devices was inviting something just like what has happened. Standing up, glad to see that even Vejide appears concerned about their crew mate as she disentangles herself from Enitan, Fumnanya tells the royal couple, We're very sorry, but we need to go and look after out friend. Please excuse the haste our of farewells." Knowing that most Zeltron prefer to avoid negative emotions, Fumnanya is confident that the King and Queen will not only forgive their hasty, unceremonious manner of ending their meeting, but will probably welcome the withdrawal of such charged, unpleasant emotions as he and his crew are currently experiencing.
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