A Moment's Reprieve (Ask)

[Professor Mors]

The more Vyn spoke, the more at ease Doren became. Perhaps Jaemus' lack of notoriety had done the young Captain a service, as it seemed the woman was unprepared to met with such refined airs as the hotel provided. Nonetheless, there was no tinge of condescension in Doren's thoughts, merely a desire to see his newest guest at ease. "I'm sure the architect would appreciation the sentiment Miss Reigns", Vassyl continued with a knowing chuckle, "And as to the length of your stay, so long as your credits are willing to accommodate us, we are thus prepared to host you at whatever duration you see fit". Seeing that Vyn did not respond to his initial departure from behind the desk, Doren now moved to stand beside her, and place power over the tour route in her hands.

"If my re-purposed labor unit has set the bar to such heights", the Captain added cheekily, "I'm very eager to hear your review on the rest of our many services". Vassyl was unsure as to what sort of connections Miss Reigns possessed, but he was more than happy to cultivate positive press when and if it could be achieved. Jaemus' position next to Bastion made it somewhat ineffectual as a tourist destination, and get the word out was difficult given the fierce competition between the more-established luxury worlds. For all Doren knew, this one guest may well be the gateway to many future clients. And, the foundation to any successful business venture was client-staff relations. "Please", Vassyl finished on a somber note, " Feel free to wander the premises at your own pace, I shall tag along and answer any questions you might have".

[Vyn Reigns]

The minx smiled cheekily at the mention of credits, already well aware how much living like a queen would cost amongst this lovely harbor. Something this beautiful, this planet and it's grace did not come without cost. Maybe that spoke for all things? She had to pay a nice amount for the bare minimal things she wore and applied to her skin. That's why she and a majority of her kin had been perfectly fine with thieving.

"Quite." she merely commented, hoping the serious topic would take both her head and her tongue out of the clouds and into the reality of this moment. To further it, she contemplated how many ways they would torture and execute her for her insufficient funds. Of course she was well over what she would need to spent, her paranoia proving she would bring not only her own sum, but her skill allowing her to ensnare tips and such from drunken and overly distracted clients from Mr. Norongachi. Tips, gifts, and even heirlooms that they'd want to press into either the hands or cleavage of the underdressed receptionist/spare mechanic/ timely assistant supervisor/ a buncha otha' things that it seemed his Staff weren't trying too hard to be good at. He paid them well, and as observant as her boss was, he didn't have the time to peek through the nooks and crannies where she noticed behaviors that weren't exactly tollerable. So, they paid for her to keep her mouth shut. Boom, 3 different incomes. Girl was nearly rolling in dough. Plus, they wouldn't snitch on her stopping herself from snitching on them, would they? Wouldn't Mr. Norongachi respect her hustle?

Her thoughts whirled away, ulling her on a draft through a window from a completely different home, despite her being here. Hazel green gems linked until she came to, and she turned a vivid stare back to her no-longer-guiding tour guide. Here she was daydreaming in the presence of a damn resort owner! The disrespect! "Apologies, Mr. Vassyl, I suppose I am a bit tuckered out. I didn't think myself so, but lethargy is quite the fiend, sneaking up on me like this! Mayhap just the gardens and rooms for today?"

Fearing she might have tarnished his desire to take her originally to see any and everything, maybe crunched on his pride a bit, she slipped him a quick goodiebag from within her purse. Vyn carried little favors around with her, and they came in the form of little goodiebags as she called them. Drawstring, nearly see through, and usually either black with white string, or white with black string. They always had a spritz of her favorite perfume on them as well, a perfect nasal description of how nearly every crevice and curve of her most accented body parts could be visualized. Dreamy but tangy, it lulled and captivated almost magically. And today, she handed a black and white favor to the owner, expecting to plop the minibag of 500 creds and a couple of caramel and chocolate candies into his hand with no issue. "I promise we can go so much further tommorow," the vixen assured him, light gleaming in her jewels with just a bare waft of mystery.

[Professor Mors]

"No apology necessary Miss Reigns", Doren countered courteously, before accepting the woman's unexpected offering. It was some sort of tip it seemed, though Vassyl had hardly done anything at this point to deserve. Furthermore, it seemed to be- scented. This was no local custom, that was for sure. In spite of himself, the Captain could not help but grin: no matter how many systems he visited, the trappings and traditions of other humanoid life was always refreshingly different than his own. At a later time, perhaps Vassyl would probe his guest for her origins, and reveal which world practiced such things. For now however, despite promises of 'going further' some measure of a tour was still to be attended, and not wanting to idle on his own thoughts Doren added, "Let us begin outdoors, while the weather is still forgiving".

Vassyl then led the way back towards the entry, and paused to allow Vyn to catch up. The two would eventually find themselves on the main stone path that ran the perimeter of the hotel proper, the placement of which provided for a perfect view of the exterior walls and floral arrangements. As the two began their stroll, innumerous blooms dotted their field of vision. Orange delfiplooms, cobalt roses, and the locally-prized Jaeman carnation left nothing to the imagination when it came to hue and aroma. "The late Bertis Straaf was almost as much of a botanist as he was an architect", Doren started anew, gesticulating at various crenellations as they went along, "When the planters were put in, Straaf is said to have called on no less than eight horticulturists to consult on the arrangements: such is the local legend anyways".

[Vyn Reigns]

'Such a gentleman', her naïve mind blanketed the compliment over the smooth-sailing tour guide of hers. He had unknowingly brightened her entire day with that grin, bringing a bit of life into her shriveled energy level, and Vyn immediately regretted telling him of her unwilling ability to explore the rest of the planet, today. Damn her over-the-track emotions! Letting something so petty get in the way of her fun! A grumble rumbled in her chest at her distaste of her own self-requested shortened agenda, and to make up for it and add a slight of excitement to it, she leapt forward with the tour guide. And not even stopping there, the Vahla threw her hands forward to bring herself closer to her host. With her aim to entangle her arm with his, she prayed to all the gods he wouldn't recoil from her like some slop of banthasnot. Well, as daring as she looked, she appeared to be his own consort! But she wasn't, of course. She was far above the league of a pestering concubine.

Snatching her head out of her own thoughts again, she didn't have to speak so loud as the foxy woman was much nearer the supposed Imperial. Her voice, softer, was so much more natural. Perfect dulcets wove into the ears of Mr. Vassyl. "Man, this Straaf fellow seems quite the catch," she purred. "I surely need some gardening tips from him; my green thumb is an embryo compared to this majesty!" Turning a honey and forest gaze to the dapper man she walked with, breeze swept past their pairing and swept a ripple into her golden bob almost harmoniously, and she couldn't imagine herself leaving this planet. "This is truly paradise," she soothingly breathed, taking her gaze from the paler company, delivering it to the plethora of flowers and other tasteful flora that classily crossed this plane.

"That one right there," she gasped, not knowing whether she might've pulled him with her or whether she just pulled herself free from him. The cobalt roses...they were her favorite flower. Ever. Like in the whole wide universe. "I am restraining myself so hard, Doren, from like, ripping up all of these roses, and taking them home with me. Seriously. Don't even think I'm kidding," she warned playfully, throwing a gaze back at him from behind. They were not only the most beautiful shade of blue, but they were roses! Typically she never saw a majority of roses, let alone genetically modified to be such a vibrant and jarring shade of blue. The were the absolute definition of beauty, a smooth and calm flower with thorns for people who had no clue how to handle them. Another draft blew past, scoring the dazed woman with the perfume of the roses. Something aligning with a sea and a forest, two powerful living essences, put directly into a flower, but ruled to a euphonious absolute that could only promise bliss.

[Professor Mors]

Never before had Doren been so grateful to the wear and tear of physical labor. As soon as Vyn attached herself to his arm, the Captain's internal temperature skyrocketed. Jaeman courting rituals were already tame to begin with, but in Doren's cause, he was particularly vulnerable to such open shows of affection. Thankfully, Vassyl's earlier work on the stairwell had rendered his face a light red, and any immediate blushing was thus disguised by alleged exhaustion. Then she looked at him. It was a probing sort of glance, and one that Doren was equally unprepared for. "Yes well", the Captain began once more, struggling to arrange his words whilst otherwise distracted, "If memory serves, I think he might have lectured at one of the southern universities- for a time that is".

Breath Vassyl. A calm breath was sure to lead to a calmer demeanor. Temporarily tearing his gaze away from his obstructive ward, the Captain took a moment to center himself, and was about to renew his speech when Vyn released a series of colloquial outbursts. It appeared she had found her own distraction, and as Miss Reigns marveled at Jaemus' natural beauties, Doren finally regained his mental fortitude. "Since they are to your liking", Vassyl cooed, bringing the ball back into his court, "I'd be more than happy to have the grounds keeper send a bushel up to your room later on". Taking pause to check his chrono, the Captain determined the two had best return indoors, having almost completed their circuit around the main exterior, "Speaking of which, perhaps we'd best get you settled in yes?".

[Vyn Reigns]

"Are you serious?!" she squealed like a toddler in a sweets shop. Oh, this was simply too blissful! Caramel hands threw themselves around the neck of the dapper man with such glee she had forgotten the poise she swore internally she was to keep. Just as she made clasping contact between those slender but lean forearms, the Vahla remembered this not, and rushed herself back to her place, covering her own embarrassment in a swift correction to her dark skirt. Attempting to not smother the man in a hug over some flowers, she began swearing at herself to just focus her own thoughts. Man, cobalt was her favorite color; that was particularly why she was looking for the Westar she had travelled so far on a rumor for. If the weapon was to have been seen here, then she wasn't supposed to be noticed! Damn girl, trying to drown the actual establishment owner in her bosom over some frakkin' flowers! Digging manicured verde nails into that inky fabric, the vixen continued the chastise internally. She had just made this entire mission that much harder.

"Well," she recoursed herself bringing a refreshed and fully reformed face of grace and 'relief' to the suave Vassyl to meet his charming gaze. "I would appreciate it to an indescribable degree, Mr. Vassyl. I do believe that would be best." With a blink, she recounted the sentence, realize she might've not only confused herself, but the handsome man before her, as well. The last one she meant to confuse. "The retiring, I mean, not that groundskeeper visiting- ...my room.." she tossed out there, awkwardly. She was throroughly dsappointed with herself. Where was her mind, right now??

"Alright, let's just go." Vyn was a bit more solemn, somber as she sobered up her merry mood. Hazel emeralds were distracted on something invisible on the ground as she wrung her hands behind her. She was gonna be terrible with this whole undercover search thing. Damn girl was set off by some flowers. Literally. Ugh.

[Professor Mors]

Vyn's sloping arms might as well have been the coils of a python. Somehow, Doren's complexion managed to brighten further, and for the sheer shock of it all the Captain was utterly incapable of uttering a word. Several awkward seconds passed, and to Vassyl's greater relief, Miss Reigns appeared to be affected, and indeed flustered by the act herself. As she retreated from Doren's person, the young Jaeman was able to breathe easy once more, and even afforded his guest an earnest snicker as she mixed words and elaborations as to the sort of service she was aiming to receive. "Message received Miss Reigns", Vassyl cheerfully affirmed, and turned about to lead the way back towards the main entrance.

Upon their return, Doren quickly surmised that the stairwell would not be ideal for his weary client, not accounting for the busied Xexto and ongoing maintenance. In light of this revelation, Vassyl summarily directed Vyn to the nearest lift, and took a brief moment to point out one of the laundry station located nearby. After a short ride heavenward, the pair stepped out into the second-story hallway and traipsed made their way along the outer edge of the corridor. Much to Doren's earlier delight, the vintage carpets had been mostly maintained, and required only a modest cleaning. Similarly, many of the original art pieces that decorated the walls were also in pristine condition, delighting onlookers with local landscapes and portraits of the hotel's previous patrons.

In addition, the rustic, cream-colored wallpaper emanated a near-golden glow, which further induced a ritzy air at a relatively low price. At last, the Captain presented Vyn with a door hewn from a cherry red wood, swiftly unlocked it, and ushered her forward. Though not as large or as extravagant as one of the upper penthouse suites, the average single was far from average. Almost every piece of furniture had been hand-carved, including the kind-size bedframe, a small work desk, and the chair that went with it. Likewise, a vanity and wardrobe closet comprised of shaved Jaeman brass stood adjacent from one another, with a pronounced glass-panel window nestled between them. The drapes were a deep violet, and sported a subtle yet tasteful floral pattern around the edges.

From where the two stood, the sky was easily visibly, and, having since cleared up, the sun's reflection now shimmered off in the distant mirror of the lake. Apart from view and the more unique pieces, the rest of the bedroom area proved much more standard. Imported sheets and blankets, various mechanical instruments provided from off-world suppliers, and humble platters and ceramic trays for room-service and other in-house meals. "You'll find the washroom area off to the right", Vassyl explained, pointing past the gleaming wardrobe, "It has been updated with the latest refresher on the market: towels can be requested and will be exchanged at your leisure". The Captain remained in the doorway, not wanting to crowd his guest as she explored. If any question arose, he would stand by, ready to answer any and all that he could.

[Vyn Reigns]

The more they traveled through the fancy and lavish building, ironically the less at ease she felt. The Vahla hadn't come from riches and jewels; she had acquired them through theft. She hadn't the slightest clue what to even do with them; she just took them because they were pretty and could match outfits she had. But this was an experience all on its own, and she tried to calm the brewing storm in her chest of the harlem between being a attempted good girl, and stealing from this man's establishment. Exiting the lift, she turned and looked him in his face, hazel emeralds running over the calmed man and his excitement to show her his hard work - how could anyone steal from this guy? Was he going to be paying more attention to her since she had mad herself a bit more overzealous than other guests? What if other guests had tackled his skinny ass in hugs, too?

Was that jealousy she felt rising?

Clearing her throat, she remarked as they arrived, "Wow, extremely lovely," she broke from the silence between them. It felt as though the more silence it was, the more she would dwell inside her head, and that was the last thing she wanted. The damn girl was confused! As he opened the door to her room, she marveled at how refined it was. The furniture was a far cry from the shack mess she slept in and with as a kid, and she aesthetically appreciated it all. It gave the feeling of royalty, but not vanity. Only enough to make you feel welcome, but not over-priveledged. Peering around the threshold until she finally walked inside, the minx ducked under the side of the massive bed to see if there was a place to store several of her things. Afterall, she did have a couple of chests and a few bags.

Vyn then pulled herself back up, and flopped childishly on the lush bed. Ouuuuu, she purred in the happy moans to herself. This bed was soft! And she was afraid she wanted that bed right then and right there. To just be inhaled in the fluffy thing, and to never move ever again. She hadn't realized she was as tired as she was, but doing all nighters at a bar/club for a near phantom of a man, then travelling all the way to imperial space to find a damn gun; this was just crazy! Of course she was tired!
And the woman began to nod off, dazziling head droopinf to one side, glamerous blonde fringle splaying across the thick blanket.

"Than-" she began to the owner, her drowsiness failing her mind in galactic basics elements right now. And quicker than the hug she gave him, the girl was out.

[Professor Mors]

As his energetic guest reached her limits and retired then and there, Vassyl could not help but smile at how easily Miss Reigns had fallen asleep. Would that Doren himself knew that sort of blissful brevity, yet work usually kept his mind alert and active long after he had made any overtures for slumber. Stepping back quietly and cautiously, Vassyl deftly closed the door without so much as a wooden creak, and started back down the hall. Given the time of Vyn's arrival, the Captain wagered her appetite might surface at such a time that she regained her vigor from walking about the grounds. While there was a concern she might rest peacefully through the night, Doren made a mental note to have a platter prepared in the dining that could be delivered even after the kitchen itself had closed.

Returning to the main stairwell, Vassyl was caught off-guard by the impressive progress the work crew had made in his absence. Both sets of handrails had been repaired and resurfaced, and all that remained to be seen was a fresh coat of paint and the lacquer finish to match. "Well done Gentlemen", Doren lauded in earnest, "I daresay you've put us ahead of schedule". With the stairs all but right as rain, Vassyl could finally turn his attention to the derelict ballroom, and specifically, the many decaying, vintage serving tables contained therein. Looking out one of the hotel's more pristine windows, Doren acknowledged the sun was still visible, though it had begun its arc down into the early evening. "Let's carry on shall we?", Vassyl encouraged, "We'll do as much as we can while the light is good, and then break for supper".

[Vyn Reigns]

She dozed with such a peaceful sway on the clouds on unconscious bliss, resting her doll head for as long as she could manage. But hells, considering she was paying for this espionage, she rested as long as she damn-well pleased. The dreams that came with such however, had a pricetag. And it was one she couldn't afford, as the person who handed her the bill was none other than her ex. His nametag had some other wacky name scribbled over it, like Storm or something, or Siqsa, or somebody else's other title. He could've stole it off another body, but Sik rarely killed unless he needed to. Well, that was a lie, but she pretended it was true, for just this once. That chiseled face of handsome sin stared at her with that easy grin that swore to her everything was gonna be alright, that they'd ride or die together till they crashed. His hand was out to her, scarred at the crusted knuckles that had knocked so many jaws and teeth from faces in masses. All she had to do was take it, and everything would go back to how it was, them stealing ships and docking in planets who they had no clue what the names were, just enjoying the ride where it took them. Enjoying the vibes, the scandal, the sex, all of it.
That mocha palm was so close to holding her counterpart, her soul-mate, reaching out to be simply centimeters from that hot hand of Sicario.

But the barrel of an all too familiar pistol lay across the side of her temple. And she couldn't tell whether it was her own hand or his who pulled the trigger just as she began to retract her hand from the nearity of his.
But the burn seared her awake, forcing the minx to sit up with a frazzled and fearful glisten in those hazel greens. "Damn, I can't even have my own damn dreams to myself, anymore, huh." She cursed as she straightened herself, irritation at both her wrinkled clothes and her cramped neck. Gods, how was she going to survive a life like this? She had to find some semblance of peace away from that bastard, some was or another. "And quick," she confirmed outwardly as she stood and ripped her wig from a short ravel of braided brunette hair. She'd put on another one just as she freed herself from a shower; who knows how ragged she looked! But she couldn't help but stand and slowly make her way to that graceful bathroom. It spoke of a class the folks who stayed here expected...but as refined as she seemed, she wasn't of this life. She was a thug, a straight grunt who could disassemble a blaster rifle and put it back together in a series of seconds, and could easily cuff a grown Bossk for smacking her ass. She had grown grim of those matters, history bitter and sour in some intangible eclipse of something she didn't wanna touch mentally somewhere behind that pretty face of hers.

Vyn watched the mess take over her features, but it hadn't touched her visibly other than her eyes. They were hard, and that girl wasn't so pretty as the galaxy thought she was, anymore.

Smacking the knob of buttons that activated the shower, Vyn splashed yet another wave of curses outloud as she chipped her left thumb's nailpolish on the temp button. "Great, another day of spent time, wasted. You can't just have a chipped nail amongst perfect ones - it's horrid!
"Or I could just be a lazy ass and leave them unpolished. Save me the headache," she mused to herself, halfheartedly. Well, it took time to get the nailpolish off, too, so that wasn't exactly helping her. "Ugh," she groaned getting in the shower, upset at her secret indecisiveness and the greatness of this shower. It felt miraculous, and considering she wasn't going to be charged for the water bill, she considered taking a quick shower before soaking in a bath. And she did have a little peckishness at the moment, so that cancelled her bath time by the majority. Whenever Vyn took baths, they were usually always at the worst of times. Replay came again as she recalled how she and Sik had been enjoying a bath together in a metal tub of a low down motel and they had just began enjoying a slight bit more than they should've, just as Raiders came bumrushing through the damn door. She wasn't as show as she was today with her reflexes, but both she and Sik had weapons in bubble-covered hands before the bathroom was alight with plasma light. Deep cobalt painted bodies in blue as raiders were held off long enough for her to get a towel, "But your crazy ass fought them with your pecker waving all over the frakkin' place!" she exclaimed to no one in particular, a giggle scrapping up her throat despite her asking it not to. She couldn't help but erupt into a slew of laughter in that bubble bath as Sicario replied back like the witty idiot he was. "Maybe it'll scare em' off faster than the bolts," she mocked his reply with a smile painted goofily across her warm brown face. That was a moment they had fought together and loved every second of it. God, it was almost better than what they had done later that night, or morning rather, since the leftover raiders had chased them halfway across the planet.

As the ends of that day faded back into her memory, Vyn stared solemnly at the knob of the shower. She knew felt the smile fade from her face just as hazily, and turning off the shower, she stepped out and dried herself off. 'No more tears', she told herself as she wiped the bottoms of feet that would be in fishnets and heels later tonight.

No more tears.