Looking for players for a Star Wars themed RP

"I'll do it in ten," she said with a returning smirk, and hopped off the speeder. "But you're going to have to come with me."

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As they paced forward, she underwent a miraculous series of changes. The curtain of dark hair came down, dangling in coils near to her waist. The fancy pins removed, she braided it as she walked, changing the style. She also changed her way of walking - she normally took long, bold strides - now she shortened them and added more of a wiggle in her walk, as if she were wearing high heels. Biting her lips to add a bit of color to them, she reached into her pockets, producing a small book of matches. Lighting one, she blew it out, and carefully drew a dark line about each eye and defined her eyebrows.

By the time they got to the edge of the city, she didn't look entirely different, but she looked quite more like a lady than a combatant.

"Look, there's a ship yard right there," she pointed. "Just follow my lead and we're good." She suddenly entwined one of his arms about hers, and pushed her chest into the strong limb, causing her breasts to jut out just a bit more. "Act like we're a couple and this is in the bag."

As they approached, a humanoid figure glanced up momentarily. Then looked again, more focused than before. Lowering her eyelids, she smiled enticingly at him, pushing her elbow into Sorce's side so he would be prompted to speak. "Ask him about the ships!" she hissed at him under her breath.

"Come with you? Look, I don't operate this way. You're my apprentice and we do what I say!"

Well, at least, that's what Sorce would have said if he had any choice in the matter. In reality, none of those words came out of his mouth. Instead of asserting his dominance, he'd found himself merely in step with a girl who seemed to become more and more a woman with each forward step.

As they approached the yard, Sorce was simply intrigued. But her next comments caused him to lose almost his balance. Act like a couple?

His acting skills were certainly nothing he'd bragged about before, but he trusted he could at least follow her lead, like she'd said. He'd famously and single-handedly penetrated a droid factory, so how difficult could this be? These proud thoughts were deflated by Apo'l's elbow.

Sorce spared her only the tiniest flick of his eyes before he instantly assumed control. Such was he in fights, and this was a fight of sorts, right?

"My wife and I are in the market for a cruiser," Sorce stated, his voice clipped. "We've sold everything and want to start anew, so we're looking for something that can jump hyperspace..." He was very tempted to Force-influence the awkwardly-humanoid man, but his 'wife' had alluded to other plans. "What can you quote us?"

He hadn't seen the half of "woman," yet.

Almost rolling her eyes at his stiff acting, she twined her body closer to his, making eyes at the dealer. It was obvious from what her body language was saying to him that the troubled young man was using the the term "wife" because he didn't want to be caught with a woman that could be bought.

She chuckled, deep in her throat, sounding like a cat purring. "Something of pleasure cruise,you know," she purred, stressing the word "pleasure." The man's eyes jumped, and his adam's apple bobbed nervously.

"Well," he stammered, "The cruisers can be a bit pricey..."

"Oh?" she pouted coyly, sticking out her lower lip ever so slightly. "That's a shame. And here I was thinking that you and me could work out a deal. My 'husband' here is a good man, but none so good with money, you know how the saying goes."

Unwrapping herself from Sorce, she waved him off. "Dear, go look on the lot for an appropriate one so that me and this nice dealer here can talk for a bit." She slipped the purse of money from him gently, as not to affront him too much.

Dumbstruck, the dealer could only bob his head in agreement as she lead him about the courtyard.
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10 minutes later, she came back, keys clutched firmly in her hand. "I say you owe me, sir," she smirked, pointing to a lush cruiser at the end of the lot. "I have an affinity for seafood."

The dealer was dumbstruck for a few moments when dealing with Sorce's "wife," but Sorce got over it much faster.

A spear of white-hot anger had pierced Sorce' heart when he saw Apo'l go off with the man, but it subsided so quickly that he soon felt exceedingly embarrassed. Something had seemed to be getting into the Knight, and whatever it was it had to be stopped. One thing that needed no doubting was that the girl could take care of herself, especially around some star-struck dolt.

The idea that "his wife" could actually be up to something was intolerable to him, so Sorce busied himself with actually looking at the man's ship. Sitting on a [structure that a modern man would call an exquisite helipad], Sorce gazed at a ship that would have bought ten podracers on Tatooine. Its curves were flawless, its shine impeccable. The heavy set tail section indicated beyond doubt that it housed a hyperspace drive.

Idly he thought it would be worth anything, but that idea caught in his throat in a way that was literally painful. Sorce looked in the direction that Apo'l had gone, and hoped she would be back sooner.

She'd return quickly enough - quickly enough if you called sauntering quick.

Dangling keys in front of him, she tossed him the still mostly full pouch of money.

"What'd I tell you? The only catch is that the heater is dead and there's only one bed, but other than that, it's good to go."

She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, and was pushing him eagerly towards a magnificent cruiser. Other than her rush, she seemed....put together the same. Perhaps a heady scent of something or the other that rolled off of her body, but all the same, she seemed....flushed. Excited, even. Her golden eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

__________________

Once in the calm of the ship, she'd stripped down to be more comfortable. This "comfortable" would include her shirt, the bottom half of her undergarments, and that was it. She had discarded the boots, and was luxuriating in the feel of the cold steel under her feet.

"So, can I add to the bet? I'd like to get some new clothes, since I sort of ripped mine," she said coyly, quite thrilled with her victory and the idea of a filling and hot meal. "So, now, we've got a ship, quite a few credits to spare, and the whole universe to lay low. I suggest somewhere with a beach," she said as she flopped down in the chair next to him, propping her feet up on the dash.

If she appeared to be taking this way too lightly, in some regards she was. After all, like she said, this had not been the first attempt on her life and she doubted it'd be the last one. For her, it was the opportunity to take a vacation. Not like she had anywhere that she needed to be in particular, or anywhere that she wanted to go, but as far as she was concerned, everything was suspended for the time being.

"And now back to being normal," she said, leaning over to look at him. "If you know what that means."

Once in the ship itself, Sorce seemed to take it rather more seriously. The attention he paid to each and every aspect of it was meticulous, even to the point that it could be rightfully described as "anal."

In under five minutes Sorce had inspected every inch of the small cruiser with intense scrutiny, even checking the engine components to make sure beyond a doubt that it could enter hyperspace. Beyond that, he had assured every compartment, regardless of its size, that it could be sealed off or hold oxygen.

Any smile on Sorce's face was gone as he slipped back into the other pilot seat. "Put your belt on," he ordered, somewhat harshly, and only gave Apo'l about three seconds to right her feat and attach her harness before starting the ships engines.

With only the minimal warm-up, he blasted the ship into the air. They floated a moment in space, only time enough for the passengers to take a breath, before space-ships piloted by clones seemingly-automatically aligned their attacks on their ship.

Sorce, despite his Force-training, hadn't anticipated a fight this soon, this forceful. "Hold on!" he shouted, and kicked it into hyperdrive.

The stars stretched into cobwebs around them. Their stomachs were only righted before he did it again, then again, and then again.

Only after a forth time did the tattoed once-Jedi Knight let the ship drift idly, him sitting in one chair, his apprentice in the other.

"Are you alright, Apo'l?" he asked, somewhat trepidously.

She had done as he barked at her, but it wasn't enough to send her somewhat tumbling in her seat.

At the end of the many hyper jumps, she glared over at him, unbuckled her seatbelt, and staggeringly got to her feet.

Without a single word, she paced towards the back of her ship, the bed the only thing on her mind. On her way, she discarded the rest of her garments, leaving her nude as the day she was brought into the world by the time she reached said bed. Let him figure out the rest of the day.

"Psst. Not even so much as a thank-you," she fumed.

Four hyperjumps in a row where enough to unnerve anybody. Sorce had chosen the directions and he himself felt like vomiting. But instead he lay back in his seat, breathing heavily. He wouldn't have minded throwing up, really. They had been the subject of a clone attack, and a clone attack doen't just happen.

Sorce unbuckled himself and fell onto the hard floor, he couldn't help himself. He was disoriented and felt sick. But he also felt sure of himself, and that was a comfort. Anything past two hyperjumps was untraceable, and he'd done four. They couldn't be found; for now, at least.

With that idea, the jumps came back explicitly, and Sorce's eyes fell to one of the only paths this ship allowed. He hadn't become perfectly versed with the small ship, but he knew the cockpit led a perfectly straight path back to the cabins, and, he recalled, only one cabin would work.

The ship was still forced into a gravity moment, so Sorce found himself able to walk back to Apo’l’s quarter, although it wasn't very far. He found the way literered with her undergarments, so he hesitated before looking beyond the bend.

Sorce sat just outside the door to her room--the only room on the vessel that worked, one should add--"You did a great job," he called, "I guess I doubted you, but I'm sorry I took off so awkwardly."

His speech seemed rather rehearsed, but suddenly he found one of her undergarments in his hand, and all the speech escaped him. Ideas filled him. He dropped it quickly, "We're in Deep Space, by the way. I figured we should kill some time out here for a while."

"You do just that," she murmured back to him. "I'm going to go to bed."

The sound of rustling bedding, and her voice grew closer.

"Surely, you concede, I deserve that much." Now she was leaning against the door frame, still nude, and quite unphased by her state of undress. After all, it WAS her body.

"Or are you going to argue with me?" she added, kneeling to pick up the undergarments he'd dropped.

Sorce Talanis's training could be tested in two ways. Never did he expect that the different ways could be confronted so terribly in such a short period of time.

The Force taught Sorce to be humane and curteous towards women. What did the the Force mean now? What did his teachings mean? Only moments ago--so it seemed--he'd felt the Force grow dark, shudder in his senses.

And now, here he was. A fugitive, a man who'd allowed others to exploit and steal, and not just "others," but his own apprentice. And now, here he found himself.

This emotion was one he felt he could never fully express. Apo'l had discared her clothes so close to him, and it affected him in the same way that pure violence affected him. So barbaric, so pure. His old life coming back to him. Sorce remembered the reasons Yoda had advised against using the double-bladed-saber, and Sorce could vividly imagine the tiny green Master using similar arguments againts his desire for Apo'l.

The feeling filled him with guilt, but desire far outweighed the guilt. What was happening to him?

Stern discipline took control, or it did its best. "You don't understand how serious this situation is," he found himself saying loudly, trying to ignore the pure and smooth curves of her body, "There's no one else to rely on but each other!"

"You don't have to yell, I'm standing right here," she said with no small amount of annoyance. Shifting her weight, she leaned more heavily against the door frame.

"And I know very well that we just have each other to rely on. I trust you, you imbecile," she spat, her golden eyes snapping up towards his and holding them. "But we won't get far if we lose our heads and start arguing. It has been a long day for the both of us, and considering that we're in hyperspace, I suggest we use the time to sleep and collect our wits."

Sorce slumped somewhat where he was, feeling completely foolish. The next moment, he inhaled slowly and let the breath out. A calming, harmonious feeling did its best to snap him out of it.

Opening his eyes, he met her golden ones evenly. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry for acting like that. The clone attack, what we've had to do, I'm on edge while I should be setting a better example for you."

He stood, facing her, feeling completely burned out and suddenly desperately wanting to sleep for a few hours. Even the enhancement to the amount of her supple breasts visible to him by her leaning against the door didn't affect like it would have a moment ago... mostly, at least.

He looked past her to the bed and knew that sharing it with her, least of all with her clothes all over the floor, was out of the picture.

"I'll take my rest in the cockpit," he stated matter-of-factly. "I can keep an eye on the visuals that way, if I have to. A couple hours will do us well, and we can discuss the next move after we wake."

"You know," she started, pacing forward. Then, she stopped, as if reconsidering what she was going to say. Obviously her being nude did nothing to phase her or shake her up in the least - she was most comfortable this way and had spent a large part of her life in the same state; alone and with other companions, male and female. She should have known better, however, that Sorce probably wouldn't have had such a good time of it. So stressed out, though, she hadn't given it a second thought. The only thing that had buzzed through her mind was "Relax - or die."

"I guess that's a good idea. We can trade off, whenever you wake up. Boundlessly the bed is more comfortable than that chair," she waved at it. "And truth be told, I'm sure I can set a better example for you in these times than you can for me. Unlike you, this hasn't been my entire life. I was Apo'l before I was an apprentice, and the way I see it, I'm still Apo'l at the root of all things. You have to figure out who you are and strip away all of the titles. For some people it's harder than others, but you have to realize the situation that we're in. I get the sense that we can no longer really be seen as Jedi - what does this mean to you?"

Her eyes had never left his, and the intensity in them bored into him, probing, hard, all traces of her usual warmth and joking aside. It was as if seeing a completely different girl - one much older than she looked, and one much more bitter than she usually let on.

"It'd be better to figure out where we're going now instead of.....Well, I take that back. If we hit somewhere by surprise....no..." she began to chew on her thumbnail, her thoughts crisscrossing behind her eyes. "If we land somewhere by mistake, there's no telling what kind of a brew we'll land into. If we know where we're going, we can at least have the disguise of being on vacation, visiting family, something that won't make us too conspicuous. We have to assume that Jedi are now outlawed throughout the Galaxy, or at least as far as the Empire can reach."

She slid down the doorframe to sit, cradling her head between her hands. She was extremely tired as well, and trying not to let the gravity of the situation get to her. After all, like she said, she was indeed someone before she became a Jedi, or at least started to hone her innate skills. The time was now that to return to who that girl was - but for some reason, it was harder than she thought it would be. Either out of consideration for Sorce and his past lifestyle, or the realization that she had been a nomad before she met him, who knows.

"I'm exiled from my home - if my father catches me, he'll kill me. Maybe the old bastard's finally dead," she said with a slight smirk that didn't reach her eyes. "I don't know about your world, but going home in these situations to gather strength seems like the best option."

Sorce had just stood up, announced his decision to take his rest. If he could have predicted Apo'l's reaction, he would have said that she would agree, then turn around and rest herself. That her real reaction was to step out behind the door frame and continue speaking, escaped him.

He couldn't help it, although Sorce looked away as quickly as he could, his eyes betrayed him. The image of her bared body, her dark nipples and her exposed sex, was forever imprinted on his mind.

Staring at the clean wall, every sense of Jedi-morality assaulted him. His mind was telling him to erase everything he had just seen, but his ears still heard her. Did she really think that such exposure would go without affect on him?

After the slight pause, the woman's next words resonated with him as being unusual to her normal personality, about what they should do next. Too serious. He chanced looking back at her, and although she was still nude, at least her position obscured everything that ought to be.

After a few moments, he found himself calm enough to respond to her comments about her father and her home. "My home world is completely primitive," he replied, "bows and arrows are the most advanced technology, other than tattoos."

He glanced, smirking somewhat, at his heavily marked arms. "The meal, bath, and bed might not be what I owe you, but we'll be safe there."

"Safe is safe," she said with a wave of her hand. "That's all I'm really worried about."

She stood again, her body stretching naturally. Although she was still slightly soft in a few places, the puppy fat of the Temple life was giving way to hard and efficient muscle.

"Rest well, Sorce," and she vanished into the room.

The metallic hiss of Apo'l's door closing relieved Sorce to no end. He fell back heavily against the opposite door, his head reeling, spinning at a thousand miles per hour.

The weight of all of the changes that had occurred today weighed on him like physical weights. His journey back to the cockpit took an incredible toll on him. Finally finding the seat, he collapsed into it. With a most Jedi mindset, he set the controls to alarm at any change in them being simply in deep space. Then, he laid his head back, and dreamed.

He would be awakened a few hours later by Apo'l gently shaking his shoulder. Much to his relief, she would be in some state of dress - her undergarments-, and therefore a little less...threatening than before.

"Come on, Sorce. I've had my few winks, and now it's time for yours. Let's switch."

Sorce's dreams were dark, foreboding. He dreamed of pain, of screams that echoed across the galaxy or were cut short and died quickly. He slept fitfully. In his dreams he sped across the galaxy faster than lightspeed as planets and moons exploded around him and he drew ever nearer to a black sun. The faster he went, the faster it drew him as the entire universe exploded into blackness...

He awoke with a start when Apo'l drew him back from wherever he'd been. A cold sweat had almost broken over him before she'd came, but he couldn't resist a small shudder. His eyes cleared quickly as he stared out into the infinity of space before them for a long moment before he looked back to her.

His eyes barely registered her immodest dress, and he merely nodded. He would have protested, but why bother? Maybe he would sleep better in the bunk.

"Thank you," he replied at length. "No change out here."

"That's what it appears to look like," she murmured.

She wasn't a master like him, true enough, but she was observant enough to notice that he hadn't had the most peaceful watch. Maybe a little time in the bunk would be what he needed. After all, a lot had happened to them.

Settling down in his former seat, she propped her feet up on the dash, and just sighed. Times like this, she thought about her sister. Just the fact that she knew of a said sister was proof of her eavesdropping skills; goddess knows that her mother was tight-lipped on the subject at best. Said sister had left the Temple ages ago, against the wishes of everyone, and apparently lived the life of some sort of rouge space pirate.

Funny. If anyone was in the position to help her out now, it'd be her.

As the stars continued to stretch into long white lines, she sighed and settled in for the long haul.

Sorce took another meaningful look out into space, let himself contemplate its vastness. Stars and galaxies, planets and asteroids blew past them. Perhaps it was his "rural" upbringing, but on the occasional moment he allowed himself to appreciate how huge the universe was, and how small he was. How small their spaceship was.

But their purpose? At the moment, he didn't find that small at all.

After a moment, he tore his gaze from the speckled blackness before him and stood. Sorce stretched languorously. His demanded eyes made on last check of the instruments before making his way back down the hallway to the room.

He stripped his robes and undergarments that stuck to him, and laid in the bunk. He should have taken a moment to meditate or even just think for a while, but he couldn't think of a time he had been more exhausted. Sleep took him, and he slept after pulling the mere blanket over himself.

As he slept, she continued to keep an eye on the mechanics of the ship, and tried thinking of folktales she'd heard at the Temple to calm her mind. Times like this, though, she had to admit that she missed her mother. Closing her eyes, she began to reconstruct her mother from her mind's eye.

Mother was tall....elegant....well-dressed....smelled good.....always seemed in control.....Ha. The things people do to still live up to what they think their parents want! Her mother had sent her offworld for a good reason, Apo'l knew, but times like this, she felt like she needed her mother's guidance more than anything else.

Before she could really delve into lamenting the situation and further mourn what could never be, the ship began to chime. The planet was fast approaching, and preparations would need to be made. Getting up, she stretched, and headed back towards the cabin.

Slipping in the door, she knelt and gently shook Sorce's shoulder. "Hey, we're almost there...."

His dreams were as blank and black as the back of his eyelids. How he had managed such a purifying sleep in only an hour or two, he wasn't sure. The Force was still tainted, at every planet Jedi still died unbeknownst to either Apo'l or him. They, among so few, were still alive.

He came to like a man who had been sleeping for days. Even her mild state of undress, in only her undergarments, didn't bother him. Indeed, only the sheet covered his own nakedness. After a brief time, he stood and gathered his own clothes around him, his muscular back and backside visible for a few moments before he clothed himself in his robes.

"Thank you," he remarked.

Now properly garbed he came out to the bridge and viewed the approaching planet. The planet he hadn't seen since he left it--since he was taken away from it--23 years ago. The planet that was his home but he hadn't lived on since he was six years old.

Approaching the controls, he took them, and murmured, "Set us down on that peak."

As he got dressed, she ran an appreciative eye over his body. Jedi in training or not, she still knew a nice man's body when she saw one.

She sighed. If only they knew! Better yet.....did he know? Had he ever been with a woman? Hm. Come to think about it, she didn't really know that much...well, anything, about him outside of his being her teacher. Would that change now?

Stepping back into the bedroom after he'd left it, she began to pull on her clothes. As she tugged her shirt over her head, she caught her bottom lip in her teeth. What was awaiting them here? How was the relationship with his family? How long had he been away?

In the middle of her contemplations, her mind's eye darted back to the sight of Sorce's bare butt, and she chuckled. It figured. All she needed was just a sliver of male flesh and it was like her mind was cleared. In the middle of all of the chaos that the galaxy was going through, men and women were still the same. How many people weren't affected by what just happened? How many people still farmed, still worked, still schemed, not knowing anything of what happened?

How many people slumbered through history?

Hopping into her pants, she stood up and gave a good stretch, feeling the muscles grow taunt under the skin like whipcord. Pacing back to the pit, she nodded over at Sorce. Hardly suppressing a grin, she leaned back against the dashboard. In her head, she was playing a little game - how would he look without boots? Without his shirt? Better yet, without his pants?

"So, Sorce," she said, trying the water between them, "Got any kids that I should know about?"