Tesa Yarum vs Balax Brason (Unscored)

[Squee]

(("Right, I'd figure I'd post a note in here and tell people that Max and I decided to go for an unscored thing. Just cuz... we know what the heck we're wanting to do and can help each other out, kapeesh? =3 Thank you guys." -- Practice Duel Thread, Page 11))


There wasn’t a good thing about walking into a bar. Nothing. Not even faintly. Not from the curling edges of adhesive smoke as they wafted in great circles to the some people who walked through the durasteel doors. It was powerful, those smells, the great tantalizing tendrils of differently shaded and colored smokes of all kinds of different scents. It was amazing how smoke could tickle a nose’s fancy. It could smell delightful, so sweet, so sick, a recipe for a life dependent for that next smoke for whatever high or delight it could bring. And the alcohol, oh the alcohol. Such a wondrous thing that so many sentient beings were addicted to just because like love the taste or love being drunk. Some of the reasons behind it were not too wondrous; the running away, drinking of sorrows, no. One of healthy mind should be the only ones drinking because then they are participating for the lovely tastes of so many selections there were displayed openly for pleasurable enjoyment.

That’s what a bar was; place of enjoyment to the considered low-life people of the galaxy. It was a place to drink and smoke and to collect a girl for a one night stand. Or perhaps a man being collected for a one night stand. Whichever perspective worked out fine either way, as a one night stand was, however stated, a one night stand. Yes, certainly, the people of the bar were probably not the brightest out of the classes or the goody-two shoes of society, but one could not deny the amount of simpleton fun that could be discovered in a little bar found in the back of town. It was a wonder, she thought, on how the unhealthiest things could seem so good and could seem so attractive.

And so the bar was hazy with smoke. It was full of drunk people who continued to drink. There was a buzz of drugs hanging on the impending midnight air. There were women who didn’t know the meaning of clothing; drunken women, too, who didn’t know the meaning of clothing. All was a swirl that only some of the freakier beings in life could inhale and gaze upon in a kind of fondness of the environment. The hiss of a snake’s tongue made from a seller to a client. The scolding, the accusing names, and alleged cheats made by a man losing his credits in some dingy card game. The rude, crass comments made from man to woman. Yes, only some creature with a taint of vile could love this atmosphere.

This bar, however, Tesa thought when she entered, was lame in this great atmospheric activity. It was tamed. The wildness was rather cut off, and abruptly. Something had disturbed this place. Something held a frightening iron grip of fear over the place. The people were nervous despite the rather lazy, but rowdy, place they reclined, flirted, and played in. Something was great enough to upset the daily, ritual pattern that befell every bar.

But fear was just as delicious as a glass of Corellian ale. It was such an easy thing to rule with, to instill into others. One could take fear and weave silk webs of it into a simple brain. With eyes as round as moons, the begging began. Tesa wouldn’t listen to them, wouldn’t take away their fears. She thrived in it, fed off of it like a leech did blood. However, it was not physical fear that Tesa thought and got her fun from. She dwindled and ate the finest delicacies of fear: psychological and even irrational fears. It was people’s nightmares. Their paranoid fears of being stalked, being followed, and thinking that shadow moved when it didn’t. It was the fear of a woman terrified by a spider. It was the fears that drove people mad, crazy… insane. It was monsters in the closet and under the bed, the shadow in the window, and red eyes haunting dream worlds. Fear was Tesa’s plaything, and she would invoke it, then calm it, invoke, calm, invoke, calm… Some time in between that pattern people completely lost it, seeming to go stark raving mad. That was dessert to the main course. That’s what made the sentient mind so simple. All Tesa would have to do was find the fear and push it.

Perhaps tonight she could play a little game. Tonight, her bones were stirred. She wanted a little… chaos.

So, with the disturbed vibe pulsing before she walked into the door, Tesa entered right into the midst. She was committed now. If she turned back, these people would know she understood there was fear hidden a layer deep. She played off her character with a high head and interested sweep of the pale eye. Why should she act any different? Her thumbs tucked just into the tight back pockets of the close hugging pants, her fingers resting just on the ending curve of her bottom. The close fitting top was heavily gathered and therefore wrinkled, and was neither tucked nor pulled over her belt. She had done her hair well for the character, she had thought, her wave carefully tamed to seem rather natural. In all, she was for a dark-haired bad-girl look, obviously not trying to hide it either. The last thing Tesa wanted to do was look like she was hiding, which was exactly what the person searching her out would think. No, she would hide in plain sight.

That meant dressing out of her comfort wardrobe and discarding her wonderful, mirage inducing cloak. A pity, but necessary not to be discovered for who she was.

“Something Corellian, preferably decent, not anything too strong.”

“Aye, milady,” replied the tender with a quirk in his lip. Tesa merely gave him a smile, and then turned her back to the counter and let her eyes settle across the bar scene. Without thinking much about it, she shifted to the left a bit, hooked the heel of her shoe on the rung of the seat, and sat herself down as the tender approached with her order in a tall glass. “And you might want to reconsider your spot.”

“Why?”

“Got troublemakers lingering around closer to up here.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

“As you wish.”

Tesa lifted her drink by her fingertips and slowly took a sip, then set it back down with a closing of her eyes.

Yes, it was perhaps the unhealthiest stuff that had such a strong attraction.

[Dutch]

Ten weeks... that's how long this campaign as been. Each battle went well, and plenty of fun was had, but not the kind he needed. Luckily, this weekend was shore leave, and Major Balax Brason found a cozy little cantina on a nearby moon, one with plenty of drunken women in it. Just his favorite kind of toys. Sitting in a far corner of the bar, his usual Sith armor left behind at the base, instead, Bal wore a tight fitting black shirt, the muscles of his body easily lined by the tightness of it. The short sleeves of this shirt covered the Sith insignia that was etched into his shiny silver prosthetic arm. On he legs he wore a simple pair of khaki fatigues, his steel toed boots however, were still donned.

From this dark corner wafted the heavy, thick smoke from his cigar obscuring any clear look anyone could get of his face. But his eyes scanned restlessly, the minutes slipping by, he had to find a plaything, and soon. The cherry of his cigar crackled and lit as he inhaled, just as the newest person to enter the cantina walked towards the bar. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, he had found her. Exhaling slowly, he put the cigar out in the palm of his metal hand before grabbing the glass of whiskey at the table he was at, bringing it to his lips and sighing slightly as the hot liquid ran down his throat.

It was time, his dry spell would end, and tonight, he would sleep soundly. Bal watched as she ordered a drink. Good, a drinker meant she could get drunk, and thus, make easier prey. He watched as she started to drink, his greedy eyes slowly going from her neck to her waist and back up, an excited, warm churning in his stomach. Same as always, he would have to play it cool- a war veteran looking for some company...

Bal slowly rose to his boot clad feet, stretching slightly before slowly sauntering towards her. His corner was to the left of the bar, and as he walked towards her, he let his cyborg arm drag its fingers on the bar as he approached her, his eyes never leaving her. As he got there he titled his head to the left and looked down at her, raising his metal arm.

"Tender, git this here lady 'nother whatever she's drinkin', and yer best whiskey for me."

Said the man as he slowly sat in the seat next to his prey, looking at her with a grin. She was a fine specimen indeed, he would have much fun with her...

"So tell me lil' lady... 'chu doin' in a place like this...?"

[Squee]

((I just had a sudden though: Welcome to the Jungle. xD))

Men were so open when a little alcohol was poured past their lips. Their mind barriers were fairly loose and perfect for practice in taming the brain. The alcohol impaired their judgment ability, making them fairly easy targets for a little mind probing. Even half drunk men weren’t so bad. They were good practice. A seasoned drinker half drunk presented a better challenge than an amateur. It was a way to pass the time and a way to practice her characters a bit better, especially ones that sported a more flirtatious façade.

This man she was speaking to seemed absolutely tickled pink that she was speaking to him. Whether he had meant for a conversation or not, she hadn’t been able to tell. He had come up to the bar to order a drink and Tesa had dropped some wise comment with a little bat of her eyelash. Next thing she knew, he was sitting next to her with drink in hand and asking her a couple of rather… innocent questions. He was cute enough; a mess of blond hair and sported blue eyes within a fair colored face. He had a smile to his face as he asked his harmless questions. Tesa was polite enough to offer a small smile back. Her elbow was balanced on the counter he was leaning on, and her hand was near his face. Her curled finger was gently brushing along the underside of his jaw. Yes, he was most definitely pleased she had decided to talk to her, even though he had a girlfriend…

Tesa faltered for a second, within his mental securities. He thought something was feeling off though nothing was changed in his expression. Her finger continued to gracefully slide along his jaw, trying to apply enough mental pressure against him to send him off but without alarming him. It was when his brow creased that Tesa withdrew her small probe. Her hand turned slightly and her finger uncurled. She let the ball of her finger drag along his jaw now, and she asked him a curious question, but he did not seem to be regarding her. That’s when she felt it: the nervousness and brief stir of fear. He was looking past her instead of at her. Quickly, suddenly, he stood and excused himself, returning to where he had come from.

Tesa leaned her back against the counter, both her elbows propped on the counter. Again, she lifted her tall glass to her lips and sipped. As her arm pivoted back to brace the glass on the counter, Tesa tossed her dark hair across her shoulder, her head inclining back slightly and she looked across her shoulder to the man that had startled her earlier toy. Interestingly, he was an older man, several years older than the blond she was just speaking with if she had to make an estimation. He had scars on the left side of his face, and a recognizable gleam of the obvious metal that made up his left arm. Hn, whoever he was has just made her cute blond boy run away. She caught the glance of the tender past the man’s shoulder just before her new visitor summoned him over.

Another drink? Tesa quirked an eyebrow as she lifted her glass to her lips again. This one she had ordered was still half full. If he was ordering her another one, he wanted her drunk. Well, that was just going to have to be a pity. She wasn’t looking to be drunk. And if he was who she was thinking he was, she most definitely wasn’t going to be gulping down anything.

"So tell me lil' lady... 'chu doin' in a place like this...?"

Well, wasn’t he sweet? Tesa’s mouth creased in a grin as she sipped at her first drink sparingly, her lips lingering around the edge of her glass. She twisted her hips to bring her body front to face him and her foot settled onto a new rung on her seat.

“Running away.” Well, it was the truth. It was also a brief, short, knowing answer to his opening conversation question. Her nails clicked on the counter as she drummed her fingers once. “You startled off my boy toy.” Tesa’s pale eyes caught another worried glance from the tender. She lifted her hand and cradled her chin into it. “I’m assuming you’re this… trouble maker I was warned about? Hm? That’s why you scare off people?”

[Dutch]

Balax' grin only widened as he watched this woman move. Her every slight gesture and action was entrancing to him, she was a fine catch indeed. He didn't sit, simply moved a seat aside and leaned on the counter before sipping from his whiskey glass, setting it onto the glass counter. When this woman turned to face him more, his eyes traced from her neckline down once more, that glint in his eyes getting an almost animal like feel to it. She finally spoke, her words spice to his ears.

So she was fleeing from someone, or somewhere... that bode well for the predator, prey that was already concerned about other events was easier for Bal to fool them into coming back to his place. His eyes darted to her hand for a second, his only thought I'll put that ta good use..., before meeting her eyes with his hazel ones. She spoke once more, saying he scared off her boy toy. A harsh laugh barked from Bal at that, the man titling his head back slightly as he did.

"Even a Kath hound knows when he's still a pup, and when'ta not mess with the alpha."

He chuckled once more, his own words ringing true to him. This woman obviously hadn't been around lately. Bal had pretty much either been here or at his hotel room since leave was announced, a couple of brawls ending with a few dead patrons. In this cantina, Balax was the alpha Kath hound. The woman spoke once more, asking if he was the trouble maker she was warned about.

"Trouble maker? Is that whatcha callin' me now?"

Laughed Bal as he turned an eye to the tender, a look of sheer acid dripping from him. He would have to gut that man before he left, just a little fun to have before his time was up. Bal turned back to the woman, his arm propped against the counter before saying

"People're always scared of the strong, sister. Question is, are ya?"

After he spoke he leaned in slightly, an amused expression masking his true desire. If Bal had his way, by the end of the night, his release would be attained, and he'd be able to sleep deeply...

[Squee]

“Yes, trouble maker. You know, the ones bartenders try to steer people, especially the pretty ladies, away from? One who makes trouble?” The light tone of her voice and the small quirk at the corner of her mouth suggested a jest at his intelligence, though nothing, hopefully, too offensive. “Bartenders are nice folk like that. Just don’t want any more trouble than they have to go through already.” Saying that, Tesa swallowed down another light sip of her chosen beverage.

The man wasn’t so hard to read. Harder to understand without touching his mind, but Tesa could see how he acted, how he spoke, and have a very rough outline to base the man off of. His eyes gave away his core intention. She had noticed the brief, fixated moment on her hand and how those ugly hazel eyes (she didn’t like hazel) dipped below her chin. Quite frankly, with that energy, Tesa didn’t want to enter his mind and pollute her search with his current and primary thoughts. She would have to sift through all of those forward thoughts to seek what she could possibly want to know.

However, getting past the obviously, lustful fantasies might actually be worth it. She would know why the bartender had warned her of him, and why he continuously eyeballed her with concern rolling off of him in waves. Anyone who had the ability to worry a bartender created theories and questions to dwell about. That was simply Tesa, who wanted to know what made patrons nervous and frightened, so, if she had to, she could bend that fear and anxiety into her for her well being. Of course, that meant rising more fear toward her, and then it was her fear and she had the power.

“I cannot judge. I do not know of any trouble you have caused to earn your title, and therefore have little knowledge of your so-called strength.” “Other than a strength held only on the sand of fear. Dear sir, if you cannot turn your sand to stone, you are going to be a sad, sad man.”

Tesa was again taking a relaxed portion of liquid from her glass. As the man leaned closer, Tesa became consciously aware of herself. Questions crept forward in her mind. Such questions were related to her disguise; questions an old master had taught her so she could be the ultimate mistress of her disguise. Of course, there were different questions for a different disguised. “Am I relaxed? Am I speaking too lightly? Am I speaking too heavily? Do I look indifferent? I am supposed to be interested. Am I giving too much away? Am I being flaky or faulty?” The list continued on as Tesa adjusted herself to the proper answers as they came to mind. She exhaled quietly, making it seem no different from the occasional, large breaths human beings tend to take, and therefore further relaxed herself. She would continue to play with the man.

He had leaned in toward her, smelling strongly of alcohol and smoke. The smoke scent was not only imbedded as a secondary smell, but as a primary one. He smoked something. It wasn’t spice. He didn’t act like a man addicted to spice. Alcohol was a given smell, considering he was drinking a whiskey in front of her and likely had done so however long prior to meeting her.

She hadn’t shied from the man when he had leaned toward her. Her chin tilted forward a bit more, angling her face to better clash pale brown eyes with hazel ones. Her jaw was set to stubborn, her eyes were seriously amused, and there was something devious about the way her mouth curved.

“I think it’s fear that is your strength here. So… Why should I be afraid of something I have not seen? Why should I contribute fear to the unknown? If I did fear every unknown thing in the galaxy, I would not have the profession I do. So, am I scared?”

Tesa allowed her pale gaze to drop at that moment. Her head tilted some to the side as her eyes picked and slid over the muscular tones of his body. Her tongue wetted her bottom lip before her teeth sank into it, drawing in a hissing breath as if she was heavily regarding something. Pale snapped back up to hazel once more, her head fluidly rolling from a left tilt to a right tilt.

“No,” she said conclusively, with a deviant smile curling her lips. “How, sir, will you react to that?”

[Dutch]

Bal took a quick sip of his whiskey and grinned as she began to speak once more, taking in her words like it was the very whiskey he drank. She had a mouth on her, that was for certain, and he planned to put it to good use. He set his glass down and moved his prosthetic arm to grab the top of the glass, running a metal finger across the edge with a slight chime.

"All a 'tender's good fer is bringin' more booze, little sister- more 'an half the time, they dun know when to keep their hole shut..."

As he finished speaking, his eyes turned to the bartender, the man taking a step back at the cruel gaze. If there was one thing Balax hated besides aliens, kids, animals, women, and poor whiskey, it was nosy people. If things didn't pan out with his little plaything here, he'd have to gut then loudmouth man.

His eyes glinted when the woman didn't budge when he moved closer, a brief second of uncertainty flashing on her expression. He chuckled softly, a crack in the armor had been sighted- maybe he could work this to his favor. Bal scooted a little closer to the woman, close enough that now he had to peer down slightly to see her face when she matched eyes with him. She spoke her answer, a bunch of build up but the final statement being "No".

A soft laughter escaped his lips as he leaned back and laughed, but not a second before moving back in, this time closer than ever just as she licked her bottom lip. He spoke, the words dripping off his tongue like thick venom off a fang

"Y'know what I think, little sister? I think yer hidin' a lil' sumthin' sumthin' from me. A pretty lil' thing dun just come into the slums cause she wants'ta, yer tryin' to git away from something..."

His laugher continued after this, his cyborg hand tracing over her right hand's knuckles, his organic hand signaling for another whiskey. He was curious to see what she would say, hoping that her fear would give in to who knows what? A frightened leap into his arms, where he could lead her back to his room for a little fun? An insulted back off, her leaving the cantina and him following her down a dark alley? Or perhaps more of this cat and mouse game? What would she choose...

[Squee]

She was slowly getting irked. He was becoming uglier by the second. She had decided then and there she did not like dark hair, and his hazel eyes were to puke for. In one blink of her eyes, Tesa took a broom to those thoughts and hurriedly swept them up into a dust pan. From the dust pan, she dumped the thoughts into a box. The thoughts were packaged and she mentally kicked them into a corner. Now was not the time to choose favorites or have negative thoughts that would negate her flirty character. This was character was one she needed to practice the most on, and she would succeed this time around. Tesa hated to fail.

He was drawing closer with each laugh. After his first, initial chuckle, he had slid a bit closer. His knee aligned with hers. Tesa moved subtly now, taking her right foot off stool’s rung and placing it on the floor. Her bottom all but slid off the stool seat as she more leaned on the stool rather than sat on it. It was likely he would hardly notice the change. Oh, the benefits of being a particularly tall lady.

By the second laugh, the one after her statement of not being fearful, he moved much closer. His outer thigh brushed against her inner thigh. Tesa allowed her smirk to cross her face. She exhaled slowly through the mouth, amber sandy eyes tracking his face. She felt a brushing across her knuckles but didn’t turn. It was obviously his metallic arm, or hand rather, touching her with cool fingertips. He liked to shove to test the boundaries of strength, and Tesa’s inner self wanted to prove to him she was not someone to be trampled upon lightly or easily. A glance to her hand would signal she was insecure with her surroundings and that she jumped off the cliff without considering the fall.

"Y'know what I think, little sister? I think yer hidin' a lil' sumthin' sumthin' from me. A pretty lil' thing dun just come into the slums cause she wants'ta, yer tryin' to git away from something..."

It was Tesa’s turn to laugh, and she did it right to his face. His tone of voice was off, and it really stirred her blood. She only grinned, though, and inched her body forward. Her left heel released the rung as well and braced to the ground, her leg rubbing against down his. She was all but sitting on his leg. Her left hand lifted and rested on his flank as she touched her chest to his. Tesa made certain her head was tilted back, chin not far from his chest, and kept the eye contact.

There was a plan forming. In fact, Tesa was plotting, and plotting her exact chance to play with the man. A flare roared up in her chest, and Mischief had suddenly taken the woman’s place. Her amber eyes teased and her quirk of her mouth taunted. What he didn’t realize was she was tricking him into her toy. He had come over and made himself a target to the puppeteer. That made things so much simpler on Tesa, instead of having to convince someone to talk and flirt with her while she worked on twisting them around her finger.

“Well, I suppose everyone has a little secret, don’t they?” she smiled again and added a wink to it. “Secrets they don’t tell. You know what I think?” Her fingers had crawled up his side, and then at one point jumped over to the back of his biological arm. One finger dragged down to his elbow. “You don’t need to know my secret. You know what else I think? I think you’re beating around the bush.” She lifted up, keeping torso contact, her left hand pressed to his side again while her right hand remained on the counter. “Tone it a little. You want him thinking he’s in control…” The voice echoed briefly in her head and she stopped just shy of the man’s lips.

The man… the man’s name… She wanted his name. Utilizing the Force, Tesa sprouted little invisible tendrils. Through her contact on the man’s side, she snuck delicately up to his mind, breathing carefully on his lips to hold a distraction. “Subtle, subtle, under the radar…

“You,” she murmured, “want to offer a place of refuge…” Ever so slightly she touched the tendrils to his mind as she did her hips to his. “But want something in return for it. A certain kind of payment.” “Balax…” And she let the tendrils slip away from his mind as her nose slid across his. “Well, sir, I have to say… why not?”

“Foo’!” The hand clapped on his shoulder almost too close to her face. Instantly, Tesa had to reign the giddy emotion, had to keep from smirking, from laughing, from scrambling away while her unfortunate puppet, who she had commanded from across the room, put on a show for her. “What you doin’ getting’ touchy, touchy wit’ mah gal for?”

He was fresh of face, at least, nothing of the paler, sicker features of some of the other, more local patrons. His words were thickly slurred, obvious of his amount of drinking. The red haired man leaned heavily to one side before bouncing right back to the other side, but his grip seemed near iron to Tesa. She feigned horror as if she knew who he was, while she actually scrambled into the new man’s drunken, weak mind for his name.

“Rost?”

“Is jist wrong, ya know? Takin’ some other boy’s gal. Paws off. Keep ‘em off, pig fool.” And the big, red haired man inserted his arms between Tesa and Balax, shoving forcefully on Balax’s chest. Tesa smirked as she went around the big, red-haired man, brushing her hand briefly against him, and then twisted away from Balax and Rost. She pointed to the watching blond boy she had been flirting with earlier. Her hand flipped and she made an inching motion as she approached him. With her mind, she twisted and fabricated words into Rost’s brain and forcing them out through his mouth. Rost seemed almost furious, continuing on to insult Balax.

“This is the fun part,” Tesa remarked, gesturing to the two men she had just left. She slipped right into the blond man’s lap, draping an arm around the back of his shoulders. “Ever make out and watch two men fight over the gal who is now dumped right into your lap?”