Red Rock Jewllery

[Cassanova]

The Tamblyn Suite, Paradise Hotel Rishi___​

Success.

Many assumed it came naturally to people like Jack Tamblyn, but success was something that Jack didn't believe in.

Victory, however…

That was something Jack chased down like a Vornskyr hunting a Jedi. Jack approached every situation like it was a conflict; a battle; a war to be won. To the victors go the spoils. Jack also made sure that the spoils were of his choosing. So when he had won a battle of wits against one of the Cartel's most promising prospects, he had also won the spoils.

He had risen earlier than his green-skinned partner from his king-sized bed on the third floor of his lavish apartment. Jack had taken a moment to slip on some comfortable silken pyjama pants, and set about moving to a small bar that seemed to hang from the very edge of the sky. Too early for whiskey, even for Jack, he opted instead for a chilled water from a glass, sitting at the edge of the window, admiring the pleasant view of the clear blue water lapping at the white sandy beaches of what had become known as Paradise Island. This entire complex was a spoil of war; Financial war waged against the galaxy. Jack had clearly won.

Similarly, he had already claimed his spoils in the war of wit, but what his companion, Xora Rzardi, had failed to realise is that she too had won a battle the night before. A battle few ever succeeded; a battle for Jack's respect. Amidst their throws of passion into the early hours of the morning, and their insensitive banter preceding that, Xora had managed to convince Jack of two things;

The first, that she was a real contender for both a threat and an ally. She was a person he had no intention of leaving to her own devices. He would use her, she would use him. Ultimately, they'd both end up on top - or alternating repeatedly as the previous night had shown.

Secondly, that she was not only committed to her own growth, but by association the growth of the Cartel. So Jack set into his mind a plan. A plan he would not share with Xora, or anyone else, but he would see it carried out. All she had to do was wake up, of course.

 

[Befallen]

A soft moan emanated from the many folds of the luxurious bed. Quickly, it was followed by a fit of shuffling beneath those sublime covers. Moments, thereafter, a green hand, expertly manicured, shot through the caverns of the bed sheets and folds of the covers. Xora Rzardi had never been prone to share, nor very skillful in its application. Instead, when they did finally slumber, she took the lion’s share. Her very own spoils of war. As she roused she could feel the echoes of the night before pulsating throughout her body. It brought a triumphant smile to her visage, even as she slowly sat up. Groggy, she glanced about the bedroom, filled with practicality and extravagance, she couldn’t help but smirk.

Sliding to the edge of the bed, she draped a leg over and then another. The cool touch of the floor upon her bare toes woke her ever-so-slightly, deepening the smirk. Rising completely, she glanced about the room for something to don herself in. Her clothes, hastily scattered about seemed disgusting to her. Untouchable, given her hopeful return to prominence, they appeared unfit to clothe her. Were she in her vessel, it would have been an easy enough affair to slink over to her armoire and find new ones, but she was not. It was then that she was struck by the revelation of how odd it was to sleep planetside. So many nights, so many years she had existed on one vessel or another that such nights apart felt almost a dream. Yet, behind that dream there came a restlessness that only those accustomed to constant travel knew. It grabbed hold and shook her. Xora frowned against it, turning her attentions elsewhere.

Where had Jack run off to?

She tried imagining him sitting somewhere, holoscreens burying him under a mountain of data and work. Diligent as he was, she began to understand that it bored him. True, she felt he waded through that minutiae out of a need to control his sandbox, but she also felt he preferred to be elsewhere. Perhaps, breaking skulls and getting dirty? It was the predatory look in his eye that had cued her into such things. She recalled it well, even as she began rummaging around his room for something to wear. Naked as her nameday, she felt no shame in it. She rarely did. And, unlike other times she could recall, there was no reason to flee in haste, partial victorious in her conquest, partially ashamed for allowing vermin to touch her. With Jack, it was different. It felt powerful, dark even. She imagined it like two lone predators meeting deep in the woods. Both wary of each other. They danced around one another, snarling every now and again, nipping when one drew close, but they knew. They could feel that incorporeal, intransient pull. The momentary inevitability of their meeting.

She sighed, thinking that the imagery of her thoughts was strangely poetic and fitting. Finally, she came across the expensive, tailored dress shirt he’d worn the day before. The woman glanced down at it, observing its lines and contours, spotting the subtle, yet expert stitching. Xora picked it up gingerly and smirked softly. Throwing it around her, she slipped into it and did up a few buttons before she began to tiptoe from the room. Her reasons for doing so didn’t make sense to her. It wasn’t as if she ever made much noise when she moved, yet she took a measure of pleasure from the thought of sneaking upon Jack, catching him in his brooding and scheming.

Smiling wickedly, she crept through his halls, her hand tracing the grooves in his walls, her eyes both marveling once more at his residence and squinting at the bright light of the sun. In her wanderings, she found a bathroom and entered, suddenly in need to relieve herself. Afterward, she glanced in the mirror, surveying her day-old and smeared makeup, her mussed up locks and the odd light that lit her face. Even as that face stared back at her and a small frown formed, she did not completely understand it. Why was she smiling like a mischievous schoolgirl? Huffing in sudden annoyance, she washed her hands and departed the lavatory. She then made her way back into his living space. A cursory glance around and she spied Jack at his bar, sipping some clear liquid in a pristine glass and staring out at the picturesque landscape that was his kingdom.

Sneaking over to him, she pressed herself against his back, smiling as she did so. An arm draped itself over his shoulder as she cooed into his ear, “Mmm. Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking, Jack?”

 

[Cassanova]

Jack chuckled as he felt her gentle touch at his back. With a cheeky grin he offered the glass over one shoulder, holding it from its base, "A glass of water hardly counts, does it Miss Rzardi?"

He rose from his seat, turning and giving Xora an uncharacteristically affectionate kiss on her forehead, before looking her in the eyes. "I've got a few things to discuss with you," he smiled. "Wait here, I've got to get something out of the safe downstairs."

The stairs barely gave way to a sound as Jack moved his way down to the second floor, where his office sat. It took only a few seconds for him to go to the wall, a safe embedded into the building's structure, hiding in plain sight, and punch in a rather lengthy code, followed by a palm print. Jack pulled the safe's door open, revealing a few surprising items including a pistol, a datapad, and two small ring cases. He shuffled the pistol aside, grabbing one of the ring cases, and proceeded to close the safe, checking to ensure its contents were securely locked away.

Weighing the case in his hand, Jack moved upstairs again with a slow, deliberate pace. He made no attempt to hide the box from Xora, instead walking right up to her at the bar, placing it atop the marble countertop and sliding it towards her. "I'm not sure how much you pay attention to the high society bullshit that occurs in the Cartel, but that ring is a Con Lorda ring. Specific to me." Jack sat down next to Xora and spun on the stool, pressing his back against the bar top. "Wearing that will give others the notion that you are in my favour, or I am in your debt. Either way, they will know that you're one of mine, and you're to be considered as a legitimate face in the Cartel."

He knew that it was partly insulting, but also a huge leg up for Xora to have one of Jack's rings, but he offered it to her anyway. "And beyond that, in my capacity as Con Lorda, I also have the right to do something else." He turned his head towards her, smiling devilishly. He extended a hand and playfully unbuttoned the top two buttons of her dress, revealing a little more green skin. "I have the right, and am going to exercise it, to promote you to the rank of Enforcer."

 

[Befallen]

Xora heard his words and smiled back as her initial reply. In truth, she had guessed it was a fifty-fifty shot that he was drinking, but now as she looked back on it, it seemed unlikely. Jack struck her as a man of unbelievable self-control and restraint. Something, that in certain areas she was remiss to admit she lacked. Her reticence in hiding her thoughts, blinded her from what Jack did next. The act of him affectionately kissing her caught her wholly unaware and brought genuine shock to her visage. Once the initial surprise passed, she smiled both inwardly and outwardly, even as she heard Jack’s cryptic command. Nevertheless, she stayed put, as enticing as it might have been to disobey, the view alone was enough to keep her.

With his glass in hand, she placed it carefully upon the countertop before bringing a finger to ring around its edge lightly in absent distraction. The woman couldn’t help, but wonder what surprises her host had in store for her. And nothing could have prepared her for the truth or gravity of them. In the meanwhile, she passed the time by focusing on arranging her schedule for today. She made parallel plans, one that included spending the day with Jack and another that included resurrecting half-finished or wholly abandoned ventures, discovering hidden opportunities and marks to exploit and crush. It felt good to engage her mind in this way. To engage her duality. The side of her that wanted to lounge the day away in Jack’s stimulating company and the side that hungered for more.

When he returned, box in hand, a perplexed look swept across her visage. Of course she wondered what was in the box. What meaning it possessed. With beings like Jack there was also something more than what was presented at face value. As he spoke, her eyes continued to focus solely on that box, his gift to her. Her began by speaking in passing about Cartel society, something she’d taken a cursory interest in. In a fit of boredom, she’d begun researching it, the influential figures. Images of prominent figures such as Vica Veszk, Elohim Aeon, Borga the Hutt, Yuri Sharp and of course, Jack Tamblyn swam before her eyes. She’d studied the information that was public knowledge, wondering what more there was to gain. Of those she thought of, she’d met three so far. Borga had been her sponsor, bringing her into the Cartel after she made such a grandiose offer. Vica, she’d met during an abandoned heist on Jack’s casino. She liked the woman, seeing some shared similarities within her, but like so many of the Cartel’s celebrities, she also felt the thrill of danger. Yuri, was just a name. A living legend with a reputation that was almost mythic. Elohim seemed to her to be a newcomer, a rising star.

Jack, of course, was different. She suspected that he and he alone stood in a league all his own. And that fact alone, kindled a fire inside her. She wished to stand on equal footing with him. Not just a whisper of a threat she perceived he thought she was. Xora wished to be that predator that snarled and nipped when he drew near. She longed to be that predator that could offer him what few else could: a challenge.

The gears of her mind shifted dramatically when he explained what the tiny box contained and why he was presenting it to her. It was then that her eyes were drawn away from it entirely to focus upon Jack. She met his gaze and held it. Within her, a frown formed. She was no fool. She picked up on the emphasis of certain words he used. She saw past the glamour to the possessiveness that most definitely dwelled within his pretty words. Not for a second did she think that he was beyond realizing this. He knew precisely what he was doing. With this ring, he would more or less own her. And while the very thought of it rankled her, rose within her such a fierce ire that she wanted to rebuke his gift on mere principle, she did not.

Despite the implications that laid within her prize, there were other things to consider. Things, she knew ultimately outweighed being tied to Jack. With this ring she would have clout equal to his own. Instantly, she’d be thrust into a new class of criminal. In that instant, as soon as she accepted, she knew doors that would have otherwise remained shut would open. Within that ring lay more possibilities than without it. When the scale was weighed as pros and cons, the pros far outweighed the cons. More pressingly, if she thought she was half of what she believed, she knew she could make this work to her advantage. Use his esteem to gain a foothold and then branch out on her own. As she thought about it, Falleen was closer in her grasp than ever before.

So, it was with an expression of humility and grace that she gingerly reached out her hand to accept the gift. Like any good disguise, it called upon both genuine and artificial emotions. The same was true for any good lie. She used her feelings of gratitude and fondness toward Jack, heightening them until they seemed entirely genuine, whilst portraying the features of one who was honored by the gift. All other thoughts, true as they were, were hidden deep below the surface. “Thank you, Jack.” she stated simply, without grandeur, without arrogance. “I will make great use of this gift.”

Her surprises weren’t over, though. What he said next took her by as much surprise as the ring. Yet, equally, filled her with as much suspicion. As happy, gratified and proud as she was to finally be promoted, much like the ring, she knew it bound her to him. Still, a promotion was a promotion. And with this she would have greater power within the Cartel. Yet, she was not fool enough to bind her ship wholly to the Cartel fleet. They, like any other enterprise were made up of individuals. A collection of specimens that ranged wildly in levels of intellect and capabilities. There existed the possibility that the Cartel would fall. That it could be defeated. Crime would still exist, it would always exist. Xora knew it to be a very crucial part of life. The Cartel, however, as powerful as they were, were transient. All one needed to do was look at history; look at the Exchange. So, she would use this promotion, this ring to move herself higher in this world. She would climb the rungs, play the game and abandon any deadweight that would impede her. This she vowed as she looked at Jack, shock still expressed across her face.

Still, something needed to be done. Some sort of response needed be given. An acknowledgement. Mere words seemed to fall short. Thanks unequal to the double-edged gifts. So, instead of speaking, she swept the small expanse and embraced him genuinely and affectionately. Once she was near his neck, she planted an equally affectionate kiss upon his jaw in thanks for all Jack had done for her, but as she pulled back from the kiss to stare behind him, her eyes flashed dark. She resolved to not let this stifle her climb. The flash lasted but a moment, but a moment was all she needed. When next Jack saw her she was all sparkles and smiles.

 

[Cassanova]

Jack smiled and moved back towards the bed, playfully patting the space next to him in some form of invitation. Propped up against the bed head with a myriad of comfortable pillows, Jack watched as Xora came to him, making no effort to shield his eyes from his lustful appraisal of her fine form as she made herself comfortable on the bed.

It came as somewhat of a shock to Jack, but kept it well hidden, that this moment was actually the first time he had invited a woman to his bed. Every other time he had shared it, clothes and alcohol were flurrying about the room. As Xora settled into the nook of his arm, he absent mindedly let his fingertip trail up and down the back of her arms while his mind raced loops around the concept of what had happened. In the space of ten minutes; Jack realised he had affectionately kissed and had invited to his bed the same woman. His revelations were not to be confused with regrets or hesitation, no. No, Jack Tamblyn found himself actually enjoying the company of a woman, rather than using and discarding her presence.

Xora, as Jack was discovering was a uniquely captivating woman. One that he found himself experiencing a recipe for disaster for; a measure of captivation, mistrust, lust, intrigue, respect and desire. He couldn't decide if he was to keep his eyes on her at all times to admire her form, watch her every move, or to simply admire nature's work at its greatest. The whirlwind of thoughts caught Jack by surprise, and he realised he had been silent in thought for a few minutes, and Xora had patiently been waiting for him to do something. Not failing to meet her expectations, Jack further unbuttoned her dress, revealing a great deal more of, what he considered to be, her fine figure.

"I'm going to take the day off." The announcement probably came as something of a shock to anyone who knew Jack's work ethic, but even if this bout of sexual excitement with Xora lasted only last night, or perhaps into the morning, but he was not going to cast Xora aside - not while he didn't know exactly what to make of their newly forged relationship. The relationship which, of course, Jack could not define beyond some mutilated mixture of sexual, corporate, homicidal, lustful, manipulative and criminal respect for one another.

It came off as cooly as anyone would expect from the Corellian crime mogul, but Jack actually had to put a great deal of effort to make his words seem flippant and carefree, "Got any plans?"