Ask Nar Shaddaa Unlawful Appropriation

[Gatz Derrevar]

Gatz wasn't sure what he'd expected. Her to push back maybe? This cat was strong willed, and stubborn it seemed. Not that he could blame her: he was asking her to disarm herself, and dress up like some Hutt's plaything. It wasn't exactly his idea of a good time either. Pretty boys like him didn't last long as Hutt servants.

To his surprise though, the cat burglar seemed willing to meet him halfway. She pulled her gloves off, a sight that shouldn't have been nearly as alluring as it was. How Noir managed to make every one of her movements seem sensual, he didn't know. Maybe it was an Echani thing. Regardless, he looked away, and let his trusty companion be filled with grenades.

Noir did leave the explosive behind, though. He appreciated that.

"What- what does the mask really do? And I don't say that to be an ass. I mean, I may not know who you are, but that's because I don't know your name, and we live in a galaxy with trillions of people. Not because your cheekbones have a thin scrap of fabric on them."

Filled to the brim with goodies, R4 closed the panel in his body. He tossed the blaster rifle that was in his manipulators to the ground, and Gatz winced, expecting it to go off. It didn't, thankfully. Then, R4 wheeled away to do something else with the four hours they had left until midnight.

"But, right, can't remove your mask. It might have actually gone with the dancer outfit, would make you look like some exotic beauty. Which you technically you are. I don't know how to incorporate it into a servants outfit though."

@llamallove

 

[Felicia Harlow]

"You don't like my mask?" Felicia questioned, as if the remark had offended her, but her relaxed posture and light tone suggested otherwise. "Way to build a girl up, flyboy. We ne'er-do wells are supposed to stick together. Did you not get the memo?"

Smiling, Felicia decided to let him off the hook. The cat burglar stretched her fingers, silver eyes inspecting each manicured fingernail. "The mask does more than you might think. Sure, it's not as effective as what those Sith crusaders wear—the full mask with the voice scrambler, but it suits my needs. The lenses are reflectacles, so they block infrared." Just in case he didn't understand the implication of that, Felicia continued. "They keep security cameras from running facial recognition on me."

The Echani chose not to elaborate further on the uses of her goggles, instead walking toward him with purpose in her eyes. "But back to business." Without so much as a please or a don't mind me, Felicia's slender fingers unzipped the smuggler's red leather jacket and began fishing around in his pockets. She never bothered to make eye contact or explain herself, only speaking up once she'd found what she was looking for.

Stepping back, Felicia pulled a dark kerchief from one of the pockets that lined his leather jacket and held it up for him to see. Then, fingers working deftly, she tied it around her head in the fashion of the Miraluka.

"Ta-da! What do you think?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she removed the cloth and tucked it away. She really didn't care if he approved or not, but a little credit for her ingenuity would be nice. "Of course, I'll have to cut some slits in it. But it should do the trick, so long as you play along."

Turning on her heel, Felicia marched toward the light freighter, turning back only once to cock an eyebrow and say, "Exotic beauty? Really? Is that the best you can do?" The Echani shook her head. "Let's go find those servant's outfits."

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

So the mask did have a purpose. He should have figured. Gatz wasn't one to rely on gadgets himself, outside of his ship and his blaster, but a scoundrel such as him should have been able to identify the tools of the trade. Especially if those tools were so nifty. A face scrambler? Talk about useful.

Noir was suddenly in very close proximity to him, not that he was going to complain. He was a little bit worried about his credits, though.

"Hey," Gatz warned the alluring Echani woman, as she rifled through his pockets, "if you're unzipping something of mine, I think I get to unzip something of yours."

She pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, a clean one, mind you. Gatz was many things, but a slob wasn't one of them. He was about to ask what that was going to accomplish, when she tied it around her head. Ah. She was going to pose as a Miraluka. They were rare, but not unheard of. All in all, he didn't think it was a bad idea.

But she insulted his compliment. How rude.

"Sorry, I wasn't planning on wooing you until the job was done," Gatz, half serious, coughed into his fist, "you're a ravishing young woman, who exudes raw sensuality, grace, and poise, and you'll make for a lovely Miraluka."

Gatz walked past her, back into the cargo hold. He didn't stop in there though: he didn't remember Benji packing anything that passed as "servants clothes" in his little care package. But the young smuggler thought he might have that covered. There had been a night involving two twi'lek... associates of his, who'd stayed the night onboard his ship, and ended up leaving in a hurry. Without their clothing. The details didn't matter.

He walked down the hall, and turned into his quarters: a small room, with a lavish bed, a gun rack, and an armoire. It was the latter that he was headed to. It opened up, revealing a lot of slacks and dress shirts, so his usual attire. A couple of jackets, all leather, of various colors. But what he was looking for wasn't hung up, it was stacked in a neat little pile: two sets of similar, simple clothing, and sandals.

"Okay..." Gatz addressed his companion, not even sure if she was in the room, "this is all I've got that's going to fit you. You get a crop top, or low cut blouse. A... pair of gladiator sandals, or wedges... And burlap pants. Take your pick, these uh... well, let's just say I know a few serving girls."

@llamallove

 

[Felicia Harlow]

Were all smugglers this cocky? Was it part of the job description or something? "Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?" Felicia chuckled, sure that she had sensed a note of sincerity in that comment. The cat burglar followed the blonde smuggler up the boarding ramp, adding but not elaborating, "But I wouldn't make any plans to 'woo me' just yet. Don't forget the reason we're here—business."

With that, the Echani fell silent and followed her companion through the cold, metal hallways of the light freighter. She came to a stop in the doorway of his private quarters, silver eyes scanning the room with a critical eye. Half-impressed, she said, "I won't lie. I expected to find laundry piled high and a foul, indescribable odor in the air."

Felicia pondered over the clothing he offered her, eventually grabbing the blouse and burlap pants "Burlap. Lovely," she remarked in a dry tone." For shoes, she took the sandals, because in her own words, "I think you'd look better in heels."

Then she turned and disappeared around the corner, searching for the nearest refresher.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

If she didn't want to be wooed, she shouldn't have asked him to compliment her better, Gatz thought.

"And as I said: I wasn't planning on wooing you until after our business was concluded. You're the one who asked me to move up the timetable."

Gatz was almost insulted that Noir had expected him to be some kind of slob. He had to live on this ship. The last thing he wanted was to trip over piles of garbage, or breathe in some rank smell all day long. This was the problem with stereotypes: they cast everyone in a bad light, and made no room for those like Gatz, who was clearly am outlier when it came to smugglers. Just because he was scruffy, didn't mean he didn't take care of himself.

"I'm not an animal," Gatz tutted, "I keep a clean ship. Women aren't typically impressed when you bring them back home to a trash pile."

He watched Noir sway away, across the hall where the refresher was located. When the door closed behind her, he quickly stripped, folding his clothes and neatly setting them on the end of his bed. He took what Noir had left behind, minus the wedges, as those certainly weren't going to fit him. The crop top was tight, and showed off his toned abdomen, but Gatz had worn worse. The pants, baggy as they were, fit pretty well. That just let him needing a pair of boots, ones that looked worn and inexpensive.

So he returned to the cargo bay, and rifled through Benji's crate. He found two pairs of shoes, meant to go with their would-be dancer outfits: a pair of low cut cloth boots meant for him, and paper thin slippers meant for Noir. The slippers obviously wouldn't fit him, so he slipped the boots on. They were uncomfortable, and broken in by someone else, but at least he'd look the part of a servant. Gatz supposed that was all that mattered.

@llamallove

 

[Felicia Harlow]

"Relax," Felicia laughed from the other side of the door. "I'm actually impressed. Most of the smugglers I've worked with don't know the first thing about cleanliness. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You're the first smuggler I've known to carry a handkerchief, too." Her tone neutral, it was up to Gatz to determine if that was a compliment or a jab.

Once she was dressed, Felicia slid the door to the refresher open and wandered back into the cargo hold. The smuggler was already there, rummaging through a crate. "All dressed up and ready to go to the ball," she remarked with no enthusiasm, clearly not thrilled about the blouse and burlap pants. Good thing she was getting paid to play dress up.

"Nice crop top," she laughed, silver eyes raking over his apparel. "You look better than I do. The prince will never give me a second look now." The cat burglar wandered over to join him, slipping the gladiator sandals onto her bare feet as she did so.

Goggles still in place, Felicia checked the time. "Well, shall we get going?" The pair still had a few hours until midnight, but Felicia wanted to scope the place out before they wandered in without any weapons.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

"You look like a sexy sack of potatoes."

Gatz joked, but internally he was having a bit of a panic. Because the Echani burglar made burlap look good. Which should not have been possible. He should not have been attracted to her. Not when she was dressed in a literal pair or burlap pants, and a threadbare blouse. It didn't matter how low cut her top was, because it was ratty and was clearly meant for someone who'd been malnourished. It should have looked awkward. Instead, Gatz found himself gawking, until he shook his head.

He wished he had time for a cold shower. He felt like he needed one constantly, when Noir was around.

"I don't know, I think the prince will be too busy looking down your shirt to notice me."

R4 chose that moment to roll into the cargo bay, with his serving tray mounted around his neck. The tin platter was empty at the moment, because servants didn't bring their own bottles. They stole them sometimes, to be sure. But they rarely brought them.

Noir wanted to leave, which was fine by Gatz. There wasn't much use in hanging around the ship.

"After you," he gestured down the ramp, "and while we head out, why don't you tell me that last tidbit of information our green friend shared with you."

Because he'd been busy getting slammed into a table, while Noir was getting the twi'lek out of the bar.

@llamallove