To Live

[Marf]

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Blues in the Night
Ella Fitzgerald

♥​

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NAR SHADDAA

The sharp glow of neon danced in the surface of the wet ground, and in the reflection of the credit chits so unfeelingly thrown towards Niita's gold painted toenails. Having hastily put her barely sufficient garments in order, she struggled to bend down whilst balancing on six inch stiletto heels. Deathly, she picked the money up off the filthy ground with the tips of her claws and shoved it into a shoulder bag. Regaining her posture, she took a moment to fluff up her bright orange hair then teetered away out of the dimly lit alley.

A street lamp illuminated the corner of the road and it greeted Niita with it's charming glow, softened by fog. She had no idea what time it was, but she was beginning to grow exhausted and made the assumption that it was indeed in the early hours of the morning. Having been sacked from her job at her most recent establishment of work, the alien beauty had resorted to the streets to make do before she found another employer.

Beneath a glowing red sign, which complemented her coral skin, Niita pressed her bare shoulder against the cold surface of street lamp to take the weight off her feet. The relief was instant and she leant her head backwards against the post. Her bio-luminescent golden irises glowed in the darkness and would appear as tiny yellow lights to an onlooker. One such person stood several feet from Niita. He appeared to be of Zeltron heritage. Good, they were never fussy about their standards. Slowly, she would turn her head in his direction and make eye contact. With the hand by her side, she would use her fingers to stroke the shimmering gold fabric which clung to her waist. The tip of her tongue ran across the pointed ends of her teeth. Her eyebrow stalks twitched curiously.

"I'll give you a discount for being good-looking."

Niita lied, being unable to fully make out the man's appearance. Her accent was noticeably fading. Nowadays she sounded more like a Corellian with an exotic twang. A jewel of the ancient past now gone with the wind. Nothing more than another alien whore prowling the streets of Hutt Space's melting pot. Pureblood. A stupid word. Niita had been born of Sith blood, but beyond the borders of native space, she was no different to all the other unfortunate Eleena Daru's trying to makes ends meet. There was only one difference, she had lived.

@Darth Maleficar

 

[Darth Maleficar]

Nar Shaddaa, a world where its inhabitants are just as unsavoury as its heavily polluted air; it was an ecumenopolis, especially compared to the planet it orbited. Indeed, for Sin'ryk, the moon and Nal Hutta itself truly represented the beings that ruled them...and they were not cast in a favourable light either. Yet the Hutts were not why the High Arcanist came to this stinking cess pit; he came for reasons both personal and political. Here, wearing the illusory face of a Zeltron, Sin'ryk sought a face who had not seen for a long time; this individual, whom he truly cared about, also held information about one of his fellow Dark Councillors...information that he needed. Knowledge was the weapon of the Sorcerer, regardless if its a ritual, a weak point, or leverage on an individual. In particular, the information he sought was on Darth Kovo, once known galaxy-wide as Audroti; any weakness he capitalise on, Sin'ryk would seek it out...just in case. Here, in the most unsavoury part of a notoriously unsavoury moon, he would seek out the Rhelgese female, Niita.

Indeed, it shocked him somewhat that such a pearl would conceal herself amongst the worst beings in the galaxy. However, one never expects to find treasure amidst the trash, and she was wise to do so amongst the biggest piles in the universe. The Red Sith's second sight picked on the essences of many of the ladies of the night, though some of them were actually cross-dressing males...not that Sin'ryk could complain. He felt somewhat tempted to hire one of these pleasure workers, but none of them were worth the time-waste. Then he found her; indeed, Niita certainly stood out amongst her fellows. Her Force Presence glowed brightly compared to the dullness the others exuded. The disguised Sith approached and so did the Rhelgese.

"I'll give you a discount for being good-looking."

She said, eliciting a chuckle from Sin'ryk; in response, he took her hand and proceeded to kiss it like the tribal gentleman he was. He allowed his hair to cascade down, concealing his illusory features as his lips caressed her hand. As he raised his head, the illusion would be revealed only to her. The smooth Zeltron face would be replaced by the tendril-filled, heavily tattooed face of the Red Sith. Amethyst eyes would give way to pupilless burnished gold orbs, the scleras themselves marked with ink. A smile manifested, revealing Sin'ryk's own pointed teeth as he spoke in his accented Basic.

"Perhaps a five-finger discount for an old friend...and perhaps somewhere more private?"

@Marf

 

[Marf]

The figure emerged from the mist like an inky spectre. A lack of light, couple with the alcohol in Niita's system, caused the appearance of the crimson-skinned ghost to appear blurred. As he approached, Niita squinted and stepped backwards on her heels, causing her to abruptly trip. Something was off. Niita's Force sense began to tingle for the first after so many years. A wave of panic overcame her. Had the Sith tracked her down already? The handsome Zeltron's illusion faded, to reveal a face Niita had not seen in almost fifteen years. As he took her hand, the Pureblood woman could only squint further, as though trying to confirm that it was really him.

"Sin'ryk??"

Gloss-covered lips parted to reveal daintily pointed white teeth. Releasing a gasp, Niita stared at the Sith Lord for the moment. It was shocking to say the least. When they had first met, Niita had been a spoilt noble, Sin'ryk a savage. Now here he stood, a Darth and she a streetwalker. At least he had not come to arrest her, Niita knew the kind-hearted boy from Yinchorr better than that.

"Oh my God..."

Slowly, she pulled back her hand from Sin'ryk's kiss. He was hardly the effeminate young Kissai he once was, nor was Niita the coy maiden of Rhelg. The galaxy itself had changed since Niita had left her home and she had managed to escape it. Now, at the end of all things, it seemed the simple harlot was at the centre of the space saga for a final act. Sin'ryk was not accompanied, that alone told her he pursued her for only private affairs. There was only one reason he could have come, only one thing connecting Niita to her past life. Oh God. She was like Daru once again. Was it ever over? Would it ever end? What accounted for this sick romanization of the ill-fated lover? Taking a few steps back on her heels across the rain-soaked ground, Niita stared Sin'ryk down. Swallowing, she clutched her handbag.

"My place is just around the corner. Follow me."

Speaking with a defeated tone, Niita did not question Sin'ryk's request. He had cared enough about her to seek her out, and Niita would exploit that. Sin'ryk was quite possibly the last person alive who could help the woman in her present dilemma. Walking past Sin'ryk on her painful stilettos, Niita teetered into the mist and around the street corner. She would lead him into an alleyway and up a staircase and finally, to her apartment door. Removing her key from her bag, Niita's eyes remained on the night, just in case her old friend had experienced a change of heart.

The apartment was cramped and filthy, charmingly Bohemian and reminiscent of a back-stage dressing room. Soft jazz music sounded from a club down the street, it's rythem muted by the ever growing rain. Clothes, magazines, shoes and stage costumes covered the floor and couch. The door opened into the living room, which was adjoined to the kitchen. As she entered, Niita threw down her bag and proceeded to shove the array of crap covering the couch onto the floor. She plonked herself down and immediately began to remove her shoes.

"Sit."

@Darth Maleficar

 

[Darth Maleficar]

Her face moved, conveying much surprise; her lips parting to say Sin'ryk's name with much shock. A gasp ultimately left the confines of her throat. It was clear that she did not expect anyone to find her, and it was more than clear that many thoughts were racing in her mind; yet the Red Sith did not intrude, leaving Niita to her thoughts. Yet there was one thing that it he himself was certain about that she shared, that both of their circumstances had changed greatly. They began as opposites; with Niita being of Rhelg's Highborn populace, whilst Sin'ryk was of tribal beings caught within the twilight years of their bloodlines. Now he was a member of the Dark Council, whilst she was a Lady of the Night. Soon enough, Niita spoke again, clearly still in shock at the fact that her latest client would in truth be an old friend. Yet he remained silent, offering her his characteristic warm smile to ease the female Kissai...which would seem odd on a particularly heavily tattooed face such as his. In due time, she indicated that he would follow her, and follow he did. Niita led the Darth in an alleyway; he could perceive the life that flowed within this place, the many arrays of despair and minds clouded by the embrace of Spice. Indeed, Sin'ryk had only delved into his own concoctions to delve into the spirit world, yet these beings did it to escape their drudgeries. The Red Sith felt both pity and anger; pity that these souls had fallen so low, anger that they did nothing to drag themselves from the near-literal pit they inhabited. The Hutts give nothing, one must take it for themselves here if they hoped to ascend; a perversion of how the Sith's views on ascendance to the upper echelons of society.

Soon enough, the two children of Korriban would find themselves within what definitely appear to be Niita's home on this glorified slum. Indeed, it would rather seem the aesthetics and the music within this place were somewhat alien to him; his own mansion being draped in the fineries of his native tribes and the beings from whom they descend. Its smell didn't concern the High Arcanist, himself being used to fouler, more deadly odours...some deliberately made by his own hand. Soon enough, Niita would lead him into what seemed to be the living room; after cleaning some mess off the sofa, the Rhelgese offered him a seat which he took. As he did so, his second sight watched as Niita plucked the shoes off her feet;he could sense the pain coming off her, among other things. As his sensitive ears began to pick up the sound of rain, it was then he chose to speak, his blind, orange-yellow without their pupils focussing on her.

"I could ease the pain within your feet if it please you? My gifts are plentiful after all, it would be no trouble."

@Marf