Ask Blood Stakes

[Roman Antilles]

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Mistress of Pain Nightclub, Coruscant, Local Time: 2357

Coruscant wasn't an usual place for any Sith to be welcomed, and much discretion was maintained as Roman made necessary travel arrangements for this trip. His goal however was only a singular establishment with a somewhat, skeptical reputation. Several of his minions entered as normal dressed customers, entertaining themselves at the bar area while the others ventured even deeper into the underground lairs to gain a taste of the betting stakes that occurred in the Blood Pit. The champion himself was donned in his formal battle armor, pair of crimson orbs glancing through the face helm as he stood in an VIP observation deck by himself. Arms folded across his chest as he gazed upon the duo of slaves about to begin their combat.

One was a Zabrak, the other a Pantoran. Both of which seemed to harbor some degree of mild force sensitivity, perhaps they had been captured at young age by slavers or maybe even they were Jedi failures who could not harness the moral aptitude to become a warrior of light. Thinking momentarily, Roman wondered what a waste it was for several acolytes to be killed during their typical Korriban trials. Perhaps those who failed could provide some servitude before they perished..

"1000 Credits on the Zabrak.." Roman whispered into his comlink, instructing his underlings to place the appropriate bets. Behind him, were two bottles of high end liquor casted in two buckets of Ice. Surrounding them were several chasers. Roman had also requested the company of two Twi'Lek dancers, both of which were clad in black and purple lingerie, selected by the Champion himself. The women did utter any words, but, simply glanced at the Sith while sipping their drinks.

@homewrecker

 

[Cassiopeia]

Cassiopeia's silver talons tapped against a short glass of whiskey while she gazed out over the Mistress of Pain from her Office window, with each clink of her nails being audible in the completely silent room. She'd finished her Administrative duties for the night and was enjoying a moment of solitude before she had to go and entertain her guests. Tilting her head back she'd drain the last of the brown liquid from the glass before placing it back onto her desk. She removed a burgandy fur jacket from her coat rack and make sure her hair looked perfect in the mirror before making her way to the door.

As soon as the metal door hissed open the sounds of the Club spilled into her silent sanctuary. Her black heeled boots clicked against the floor as she walked towards her private personal elevator. She did not push any of the marked floor buttons and instead held the emergency alarm button for 5 consectutive seconds which caused the metal box to groan to life and began dragging itself down to the Club's bloody little secret.

Dark Synth grew louder as her elevator reached the Mistress of Pain's main level. Dark Synth grew quieter as it continued on, heading further into the depths. The sounds of debauchery and music were gradually replaced with the sounds of cheering, screams of pain, and violent grunts. The lift came to a stop and it's doors slowly hissed open. Cass stepped out and was immediately greeted by a mixture of sycophantic guests, waiters desperately trying to make sure she was appeased and others who wanted her attention for who know's what reason.

She made polite small talk, enough to keep them sated but never stayed long enough to keep her back from her real destination. Somebody had paid a sizable amount to rent one of her private VIP chambers, ordered some of her most expensive bottles and paid for two of their most popular dancers. Customers like that are the ones you want to make sure come back often. As she reached the door for the VIP deck, a young Twi'Lek man came running over to her, handing her a flute of champagne which bubbled furiously.

She didn't have to speak - he already knew what she wanted to know.

"His name is Roman." Cassiopeia winked at her assistant, her memory refreshed, before pushing the button beside the door, causing it to hiss upwards.

As she walked into the observation deck, she'd greet the man with opens arms and a voice like one would greet an old friend.

"Roman! So wonderful to have you join us Darling'

She scanned the room, the drinks and the girls with her mismatched yet viciously scrutinous eyes.

'I trust everything is to your liking?"

@Faded

 

[Roman Antilles]

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Roman wasn't actually expecting company at the club on this off day, usually anticipating that the matron would really only be in house on the busy nights. Perhaps it was his good fortune that she happened to be here tonight. He turned to look at the doors as Cassiopeia, armored hand moving upwards to remove his helm so that he could properly greet her.

"Good Evening dear, it is nice to finally meet you.." He said, moving over and giving a brief hug. "Yes, everything is well suited to my liking." Roman placed the helm on the table and moved back over to the fighting pit viewing gallery, waiting patiently for the next fight to commence. He had anticipated this Zabrak to win, and to be honest, his winning track record with the bets had given him ample additional revenue for not only play money but also resources to help in his dark aligned conquests. He took a seat in between the two twi'lek dancers, their skinny, bare legs wrapped around his own lap as one of them handed him a glass full of chilled Vodka.

With his free hand he motioned to the seat across from him, "Join me for a drink?"

@homewrecker

 

[Cassiopeia]

Pulling back from the hug, Cassiopeia noticed his gaze turn back into the fighting pit.

"If you liked this then you're simply going to adore tonight's finale.' She leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret with trusted confidant 'I got my hands on a wonderful batch of refuges from New Alderaan. They're going to be thrown into the ring together and then... we release a pack of Nexu that i've been starving for weeks." She grinned at her own sick machinations

"Guests can place bets on who they think is going to die first... or last."

Events like this were always popular among her clients and she was prepared to host several more shows like it in the coming weeks with refuges and stragglers pouring in from that planet everyday after the Sith's invasion. Drifters and the disaplaced. The types of people that - if they were to disappear - either wouldn't be missed or would simply be written off as more casualities of war. Business was booming.


"I'd be delighted to." Cassiopeia followed behind Roman and sat opposite him while he wrapped himself up in a web of twi'lekian legs. She raised her champagne and clinked it with his glass before taking a sip of the heavenly golden liquid.


"So Roman - what brings you to my Mistress of Pain? The music? The girls? The gore?" She smiled coyly, leaning back in the black leather chair and crossing her legs, her foot tapping gently against the air.

@Faded