Uscru Entertainment District
Outlander Club
Local time: 11:16 PM
Kori's hand ran across the metallic frame of the newly-purchased black swoop bike before turning off the ignition. The engine under her stopped purring, and the Zeltron dismounted with a smile of content. Totally worth it. Don't you worry, I won't keep my third eye off you. Even though the parking lot was under surveillance, and the swoop itself was outfitted with a tracker, Nykoria wasn't going to take any chances. Coruscant was no Nar Shaddaa, but vehicles were stolen there too. It would be a shame if all her academy instructor earnings—in the form of this old-school technological miracle—would be stolen by some lowlife. After all, she had left most of her weapons at home; only the Force was with her that night. The newly-anointed Jedi Master could regret that choice in the long run, but felt that it would suffice.
But what had a Jedi Master forgotten in that seedy place? Surely it had to be something important, lest she wouldn't bother. And important it was. So the Zeltron had taken every precaution to look the part. No Jedi robes this time; just a black tank top, a brand-new dark-brown leather jacket with a barely noticeable tribal pattern on the back. Tight-fitting dark-blue pants and black boots completed the picture. For the first time in a while, the Zeltron had even applied the make-up to hide the burns on her forehead and cheek, at least partly. That night she wasn't meant to be "Nykoria Tallis, Jedi Master". She was just "Kori from the neighborhood". Hopefully, her exploits on Coruscant hadn't gained too much notice yet, and it would work as planned. After all, Kori's mission was simple: to unwind and get a change of pace.
That's why she had picked one of the clubs where she went in her very late teens, just before having to leave Coruscant and join the Jedi Order. Reliving the experiences of the past seemed like a childish thing to do, unworthy of a Jedi Master. But who cares? I'm still myself, first and foremost. With that, Kori stepped through the door, into the dense and familiar sea of bass and intertwined emotions. As teen, she had thought that she could perceive them well enough. But years of studying the Force had taken the experience to a whole new level. Even while keeping some of her attention focused on her swoop outside, the Zeltron could still take in the cocktail of dance trance with a little bit of lust as she made her way through the crowd. Speaking of cocktails...
"One Corellian Drive, with ice," a few credit chits landed on the counter, along with the Zeltron's elbow. Her purple face turned in the direction of the dance floor. As the bartender tended to her order, Kori simply watched and felt the crowd. Despite the emotions surrounding her, the memories of the past kept the Zeltron somewhat isolated from everything going on. She was finding some weird form of serenity even amidst the storm of party-goers ripping up a dance floor. Am I really getting too Master-y, like Oren? The thought made the Zeltron close her eyes briefly and shake her head with a shudder. No way.
In the meantime, the bartender slid over a glass of blue liquid, which Nykoria accepted with a nod. The Zeltron was pretty content with her current position, reminiscing "old times" and not seeking much else. But she still didn't know what the future held. For all she knew, it could escalate into anything: from a dance with someone to gang warfare or something worse. All is as the Force wills it, huh? Let us see then.
Outlander Club
Local time: 11:16 PM
Kori's hand ran across the metallic frame of the newly-purchased black swoop bike before turning off the ignition. The engine under her stopped purring, and the Zeltron dismounted with a smile of content. Totally worth it. Don't you worry, I won't keep my third eye off you. Even though the parking lot was under surveillance, and the swoop itself was outfitted with a tracker, Nykoria wasn't going to take any chances. Coruscant was no Nar Shaddaa, but vehicles were stolen there too. It would be a shame if all her academy instructor earnings—in the form of this old-school technological miracle—would be stolen by some lowlife. After all, she had left most of her weapons at home; only the Force was with her that night. The newly-anointed Jedi Master could regret that choice in the long run, but felt that it would suffice.
But what had a Jedi Master forgotten in that seedy place? Surely it had to be something important, lest she wouldn't bother. And important it was. So the Zeltron had taken every precaution to look the part. No Jedi robes this time; just a black tank top, a brand-new dark-brown leather jacket with a barely noticeable tribal pattern on the back. Tight-fitting dark-blue pants and black boots completed the picture. For the first time in a while, the Zeltron had even applied the make-up to hide the burns on her forehead and cheek, at least partly. That night she wasn't meant to be "Nykoria Tallis, Jedi Master". She was just "Kori from the neighborhood". Hopefully, her exploits on Coruscant hadn't gained too much notice yet, and it would work as planned. After all, Kori's mission was simple: to unwind and get a change of pace.
That's why she had picked one of the clubs where she went in her very late teens, just before having to leave Coruscant and join the Jedi Order. Reliving the experiences of the past seemed like a childish thing to do, unworthy of a Jedi Master. But who cares? I'm still myself, first and foremost. With that, Kori stepped through the door, into the dense and familiar sea of bass and intertwined emotions. As teen, she had thought that she could perceive them well enough. But years of studying the Force had taken the experience to a whole new level. Even while keeping some of her attention focused on her swoop outside, the Zeltron could still take in the cocktail of dance trance with a little bit of lust as she made her way through the crowd. Speaking of cocktails...
"One Corellian Drive, with ice," a few credit chits landed on the counter, along with the Zeltron's elbow. Her purple face turned in the direction of the dance floor. As the bartender tended to her order, Kori simply watched and felt the crowd. Despite the emotions surrounding her, the memories of the past kept the Zeltron somewhat isolated from everything going on. She was finding some weird form of serenity even amidst the storm of party-goers ripping up a dance floor. Am I really getting too Master-y, like Oren? The thought made the Zeltron close her eyes briefly and shake her head with a shudder. No way.
In the meantime, the bartender slid over a glass of blue liquid, which Nykoria accepted with a nod. The Zeltron was pretty content with her current position, reminiscing "old times" and not seeking much else. But she still didn't know what the future held. For all she knew, it could escalate into anything: from a dance with someone to gang warfare or something worse. All is as the Force wills it, huh? Let us see then.