Tsara
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2019
- Messages
- 51
- Reaction score
- 34
ERIADU
Taris.
Ossus.
Ilum.
Tatooine.
Unfolding her pinkie finger, Tsara looked at five fingers fanned, each representing a planet she'd been too in short of six months. Kuat counted more as station, in spite of it being a world unto its own. So, the pinkie counted for Eriadu, and the club she'd just got done twirling an anchored durasteel pole for.
It was a high ceiling-ed, wide chambered dive.
Pay was good.
What did she care?
As long as the lights were low and the neon bright, Tsara was a goddess to every hot-blooded male from the majority of races that new what a Hyper-Drive was.
In her sparse dancing attire, sitting at a stool up to the bar, Tsara contemplated Atraxis' present pursuits over a tall glass of Fuzzy Tauntaun. In a rare turn, he'd left her off at Eriadu as he 'needed to be in one accord' with himself for his forthcoming adventure, and that he would collect her when he was done.
She didn't ask for details.
They'd agreed back on Ossus, made a pact, to not get in the way of each other's mutual endeavors. Positions of respect and self regard they had faithfully kept. Atraxis didn't fully trust the Empire of Sith that trained him, but placed trust in her almost blindly these days.
Often he instructed her, and in a way, she taught him things in turn, taking him out of his comfort zone of intimidation and aggression. They both sharpened one another, like swords of Mandalorian Iron.
A couple of humorous come-ons, and shameless, fun flirting after her shift of dancing that were mostly innocent, if not flattering, Tsara was left in the peace she presently enjoyed. Just her glass, the bar droid, and her thoughts.
They'd become louder lately...
@Nihilist Horizon