Shoes to Fill (Laserra)

[Torian Arcanos]

Torian checked his chrono mentally making the calculation to establish how much time he had left. His work was operating under a strict timetable, the clean-up crew scheduled to pick up right where he left off. That was what they were referred to, but their job would be anything but cleaning up. His right hand dove into his black jacket, removing a set of skin tight leather gloves and pulling them tautly over his hands. He was meticulous, even if he knew his tracks would be covered adequately. Ever item he disturbed, was returned to it's former location.


He picked threw drawers, taking note of the man's fashion sense, cataloging images for reference material. The most shocking discovery was the women's undergarments in the bottom drawer, and had he not studied his mark enough to know he was a womanizer, he would have assumed the man led an alternative lifestyle. Though, maybe he did. Nothing else suggested such as he carefully lifted folded clothing, peeking beneath. The last drawer was pushed closed before he moved towards the closet. He sifted through the bottom, pulling the fire-safe aside for further examination, before moving through the clothes hung up. The only thing of interest within was a brown, almost tan, leather jacket. It was one he'd seen Dorian wearing in numerous images, perhaps a favored style? He set it aside atop the bed, and continued on his way.


At the nightstand he found little, aside from a half empty pack of cigarra's, and a used book of matches from a place called The Skyfire. What was interesting was the back of the matchbook, an obvious set of lips imprinted in dried lipstick on the back. It would be worth investigating. He pocketed the matchbook, drawing the only drawer of the nightstand out. Nothing interesting stood out, but upon feeling around above and within, he found a blaster in a holster. He drew the weapon out, checking the power pack, feeling it's weight. He ripped the holster out, stowed the blaster, and slid both into the rear of his pants at the small of his back. The clean up crew would cover his tracks, he was sure.


His chrono buzzed, signaling he was drawing near to the end of his search, and so he returned to the kitchen. He wasn't exactly the cleanest individual, compared to himself and the rigid discipline he was brought up under. The kitchen held nothing of interest, so he returned for the fire safe. He quickly picked the old fashioned lock, rifling through the materials. Most of what was inside lacked interest, aside from a single thing. It was an image of the man's mother. He stared at it longer than he should have, before his chrono buzzed again. He removed his datapad and took a scan of the image, then opened a folder which seemed to contain one last bit of possible useful intel, scanning it for lack of time before sealing the safe back up. He took up the brown jacket, and departed the apartment, turning right just as he heard footsteps of others coming from the opposite direction. Right on time.


He let things cooldown a little, gave it a few days. The rumor would go around about how his mark's place had been trashed, it was how he wanted it. He expected a number of different approaches to the news, and was eager to see what sort of reactions would occur. Drinks. Condolences. Curses. It would definitely help him gauge relationships. One location in particular he was most interested in the reaction, Skyfire. He'd definitely had close ties to someone there, and he wanted to feel out that relationship.


Torian entered wearing the brown leather jacket, moving with a confident sort of swagger that didn't betray the Imperial upbringing. He took a place near to the door, so he wasn't passing anyone he should have greeted in the way in, but with his back to a corner so he could also see who might approach and from what directions. His hands came together with fingers knit before his torso and elbows resting on the arms of his chair, staring out into the floor beset with tables leading to a bar, and dipping off down a step towards a dance floor where a DJ booth was set up.

[Laserra Minxene]

Even in its down time, Skyfire was one of the busiest joints in the district. Laserra was on her last fifteen of the day, her cerulean eyes watching on in amusement as one of the new waitresses fumbled with a tray laden with mugs of ale. A datapad displaying audition dates was laid out on the bar top before her, her finger lazily slashing through various options that she had already seen to earlier that week.

"Did anything come of that gig in Point Cortez?" The proprietor and barkeep, Orik, asked as he continued buffing one of the recently washed glasses. An elegant hand swept back through her curtain of zaffre blue hair, her equally azure eyes finding those of her current employer. The middle-aged human male had recently tried to hook her up with a troupe that performed in small venues and traveled from planet to planet. While she probably could have summoned up the effort to join on with them, she was bent on getting onto the big screen without the menial jobs that she had been told time and time again were a prerequisite.

"It didn't pan out, no." She lied, powering off the datapad and passing a partially interested glance over the crowd. A familiar leather jacket stole her attention, prompting a faint smirk to grace her naturally cherry-red Zeltron lips. Orik scoffed knowingly to her right, keeping an eye on her as she applied a generous amount of flavored lip-gloss to her mouth. No red head to distract Dorian tonight. Strange that he would head over to the table by the door rather than dive right into the social aspects of Skyfire.

"Does this mean you won't be working the rest of your shift, Serra?" Orik asked, more amused than anything. He couldn't deny that she raked in the customers, what with her pheromones assuring the males were more than content with her mere presence. She winked at him over her shoulder before sliding around the bar, heading right for her on again off again lover.

Her hips swayed to the steady thrum of the music, earning catcalls and whistles as she sashayed toward him. Once she arrived at the table, she braced her palms atop it; tossing her hair in typical sassy, Serra fashion while the deep v of her maroon one-piece did more than hint at her generous assets. "Hullo, handsome. Heard your place got tossed. If you're not doing anything later, you could always come by my apartment and see about leaving it in a similar state."

[Torian Arcanos]

Being someone else was no foreign matter to him. He had to carry himself differently, style his hair differently. These were no true challenges, just at times mild discomforts that could easily be overlooked. His hair was a bit more of an unkempt style as opposed to the clean part he often had. Beneath his jacket his black shirt was untucked, and the way he sat back was a far more reclined and casual sort of position. Sure enough a server was headed his way, in the kind of garments he was surprised she was allowed to wear with just how revealing it was. She stopped at his table, her hands posting up atop it, not quite the behavior he would have expected from a server. He began to feel her familiarity.


She obviously wasn't just flirting for tips, because she actually invited him back to her place so instantly, without any conversation to get them started. While he had never met a Zeltron, he wasn't entirely surprised at her behavior. He took only a moments hesitation to ensure he was prepared to speak without an accent, like Dorian, before he began. "That was kind of what I was hoping for." He was pleased to see his voice measured out without the sharpness that it was used to containing. Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult? "Did manage to salvage this..." He produced the matchbook, flipping it around in his hand to show the imprint of lips. It made sense, the gamble he took. It was her bar, her lips looked about appropriate size, and she was an obvious sensual being.


He realized only after what he had agreed upon. Leaving her apartment in a similar state, it seemed he would be diving headfirst into the role he was taking, but he was also taking a big chance in getting intimate with a woman who had obvious close ties with Dorian so soon. "When do you get off?" He questioned, buying time, appraising the future situations to come, ill-aware of his choice of words.

[Laserra Minxene]

Laserra's cerulean eyes dipped down to the matchbook he held in his palm, her lips spreading into a dazzling smile. How sentimental! He kept a trinket from the first night they had met. If she was less depraved, she might even blush; not that you'd notice against her skin tone. One hand rose from the table top, sweeping her azure tresses around the side of her neck and smoothing them down into a conjoined cascade.

At his wording, the Zeltron passed him a slow, suggestive wink before she rounded toward the bar. Her maroon getup fluttered at the abrupt motion, threatening to hint at more skin than was appropriate for a public setting. "Orik, I'm outta here."

"You going to leave the new girl all alone?" The amused bar tender and proprietor asked knowingly.

"She'll get more tips." She shot back, glancing toward the new waitress who was shakily lowering another laden tray toward the table of some rowdy patrons. Then, she cast a smoldering look over her shoulder toward Dorian. "Let's go. We can pick up something from the liquor store and tear it up at my place."

[Torian Arcanos]

It was a good sign that she hadn't given him some awkward look concerning the matchbook. His gamble had paid off. It also meant that Dorian had close ties with this woman, obviously some sort of sentimentality. It was either that, or he was crafty enough to keep something that could be used to score some points with the woman. If that was the case, he had missed a few other belongings for others, but Torian was quite confident he had been extremely thorough. He watched the dramatic way she tossed her hair, which did well to draw attention to her long neck, then plunging neck line, if it could even be called a neckline. The garment never really did have an end, until the belt at the waist that kept it all in place.

Out of range he couldn't quite hear their words, especially with the constant thrum of conversation that was occasionally punctuated by a boisterous laugh, cry or statement from differing locations about the bar. He was however trained enough to read their lips, though found nothing of consequence except that the woman was willing to dismiss her work. He began to mentally create a file on the woman. Checking off all the bits of personality that he had learned of her so far. These things he might document later, but for now he attempted to keep some of the observations to the forefront of his mind to see how he might influence and continued to take advantage of Dorian's relationship.

He pushed his chair out, letting the legs that had ground down the skid resistant caps screech slightly against the floor. He ducked his hands into his pockets while he crossed the distance back towards Laserra, until he was near enough for contact. His arm then slipped confidently, and possessively, about her waist. He made a sort of show of escorting her out, taking the most popular route out of the establishment to draw attention to the fact that she belonged to him. This he figured was something Dorian would have done, been enough of a show off to really rub it in the other patrons face that he was stealing their favorite server eye candy for his own personal aims.

This was the hard part though. He had to feel the motions of her body against his arm, let her lead without letting her lead because Dorian would have known where to go. The hand at her waist did a good job of feeling the subtle shifts of her body in directions she might have taken, but fortunately their route kept mostly direct. "What's your pleasure tonight?" He questioned of her alcohol choice, perhaps with a bit more propriety to that attempt at flirting than Dorian would have had. He mentally questioned other ways he could have said it, while keeping his focus to his date. 'What are you feeling?' That sound slang enough, though dialect would have been a factor to consider.

[Laserra Minxene]

Rosy lips turned upward, revealing a gleaming row of perfectly white teeth. Her grin was infectious, she'd been told, but then so was Dorian's. He slipped an arm around her waist, seemingly more intimate than playful in public than she was used to. Still, he wasn't raising any flags yet. The Zeltron moved with him out of the bar, all the while thinking that something must have gone terribly wrong with Red if he was being so close so soon. Usually, he had to get over the withdrawal and then she could pick up the pieces.

She guided them in the direction of the liquor store, her own arm having snaked around behind his back and her fingers knotting in his shirt. "You're my pleasure tonight, love. But, I think I'll have some Lum for my pregame." She told him matter-of-factly, her hand sliding down his back and over his bottom to give it a squeeze. Not even a blink afterward, she pivoted sharply into the doorway of the liquor store.

A casual wave was offered to the overweight man behind the counter and she swayed over to the aisle harboring her flavor. A large bottle was taken up and then deposited at the counter. She paid with a slim credit stick and then immediately unscrewed the top, taking a swig directly from the bottle before passing it to him.

"Bottoms up."

Then, she was moving on again, flighty as was her nature. Once they were outside again, mere steps from her apartment, she began fishing the keycard out from her bra strap. "So, Red didn't stick around huh? Well, that's her loss I suppose. Did something happen?"

[Torian Arcanos]

He stiffened a touch as she squeezed his backside, not exactly the sort of thing he was prepared for. He considered himself a professional, but the truth was he still had much to learn. He didn’t fall completely naturally into roles, and this was the most ideal role he could have fallen into. Yet, Dorian was not like him, and so he had to be not like himself. Fortunately she was so dismissive of even making the gesture that she likely hadn’t noticed the way his muscles had seized up.


She had her way about things he noticed. She didn’t really stop to take in the surroundings, but absorbed one thing than another, and onto another. He was mentally profiling her as they spent time together, watching as one moment she was waving, the next taking the bottle and not pausing to see if he wanted anything. Lum would do for them both, he supposed. He took the neck of the bottle from her, following suit by upturning the bottom. He didn’t leave himself much time to contemplate the flavor or worry about it, he had appearances to keep up, and it was requiring more of his concentration that he had suspected it would. Keeping up with her flighty nature, adjusting on the fly, she was a challenge that would temper him for later.


His eyes drew over to her as she began speaking, his gaze slipping to the bra strap she fiddled with. He would have liked to think it was because he was taking notice of movement, being cautious, but that was certainly not the case. Still a man. “We just move in different directions.” He was familiar with the woman she referred to as Red, Dorian’s most recent relationship. The quick dismissal he hoped would convey he didn’t want to talk about it, because it would require him fabricating a story. “Her loss, my gain.” He flattered, giving a tightening squeeze to her side. This whole event though did make him question Dorian, why he was back and forth with the woman he was presently with. She seemed ready to take him back in an instant.

[Laserra Minxene]

"The unstoppable force and the immovable wall, you described last time." She said, pressing her keycard against the locking mechanism on the outside of her apartment building. Laserra flashed him a naughty smile as he squeezed her side, slowly sidestepping into him to enter the foyer of the building. There were two apartments below her's and one adjacent to it abovestairs. She snagged his hand, the one not cradling the lum, and guided him up the poorly carpeted steps and onto the landing of her abode. Another swipe of her keycard and the lock flicked to a green hue, she gave the door a light shove and swept inside; casting the keycard onto the slim metal dresser within.

"Come on in, handsome. No need to be shy, not after all we've been through anyway." She said with a wink, taking the lum bottle from his hand and swigging from it thoroughly. The bottle joined the keycard on the dresser and she sidled up real close against him once the door clicked shut. Her hands smoothed over his chest and she slipped off her high heels, now having to tilt her head back to look up at him. Her hands traveled up, her thumb stroking across his eyebrow where that adorable scar was....

Not.

She arched a brow, tracing the spot again. Her eyes found his, questioning, and then a moment later, she knew she probably shouldn't have given herself away. Slowly, her hand dropped from his chest, inching toward the lum bottle.

[Torian Arcanos]

Laserra sidestepped straight into his path, exceedingly close as was befitting the nature of her thus far and the relationship she seemed to have with Dorian. She rushed him along, as if the confirmation that he was no longer with ‘Red’ was enough to hasten this process onward. It worked to his advantage, guiding him to the appropriate apartment of the multiple doors and taking the guess work out of the equation. He had to admit, the improvisation was exciting for the role, having not had the opportunity to thoroughly study this individual in Dorian’s life.


He stepped in a pace after her and while her back was to him he swept the door closed and turned his eyes all about the apartment. He took in every detail he could. She kept it surprisingly tidy, a trait he wouldn’t have guessed from her. Everything seemed to have a place, like the keycard even settled onto the dresser aside the door. He was certain by the way she set the bottle down in it’s newly random location that she occasionally had her moments where she would bring a man back, and be a bit haphazard about where she left her belongings.


Her hands came to his chest, and it drew his attention back to her fully, plastering the best knowing smile he could across his lips. Her shoes were discarded and she shrank down half a head. Her hands came up his face and for a moment he was distracted enough to not think about the lack of scar that Dorian had. The way she fixated on it for a moment quickly brought him back to the moment. She knew. He knew. She knew he knew. Everything about her seemed to tense up, a hand straying from him. She played her hand just as carelessly as he had.


His right hand grasped her wrist that reached for the bottle, plastering it up against the wall and pinning it. His entire body moved to do the same, stepping his left foot forward to pin his knee to the wall and his hip against her waist with an audible thud against the wall behind her. His second hand reached up and came over her lips, sacrificing the freedom of her second hand to worry about stopping any cry for help that might draw attention.

[Laserra Minxene]

Laserra pulled in a shuddering breath just before his large hand fastened over her mouth, a tremor of fear echoing along the grooves of her spine as it came up against the rearward wall with a thud. Her thoughts raced, diverging into anxiety laden pathways each punctuated by some horrible scenario straight out her deepest nightmare. Why did he look just like Dorian? What did he want with her? She didn't have time to contemplate the answers to those questions. Her toes brushed one of the high heeled shoes she had slipped off and she began to form a plan, all the while maintaining wide eyed contact with her assailant. She didn't give him time for threats, other than the physical one he surely presented.

Instead, she slid her toes into the shoe and jerked her leg up, her free-hand thankfully snagging the item out of midair. She brought it around with as much force as she could muster, slamming the heel into the side of his head. Then, with his stun permitting her freedom, she took off deeper into her home. She had a blaster in her nightstand, she just needed to get there.

She threw the bedroom door into his path, assuming he had recovered to pursue her, and she stumbled as she came to the bedside table and drawers. By now, the adrenaline was effecting her more so than the alcohol which lay forgotten in her foyer. Pulling the blaster numbly from its holster, she swiveled toward the door and aimed it with trembling hands. "I don't know who THE FRAK you are but if you come in here, I swear I will kill you!" She roared, courage somewhat fortified by the weapon she now held.

[Torian Arcanos]

He underestimated her. Adrenaline surged through his body, at first the kind brought on by an intense arousal, and then the sudden shift in gears that had him thinking about how to handle her now that she had him figured out. There was no time for any of that, he'd barely managed to silence her with a hand over her mouth before she clocked him across the side of the head. The initial strike had his torso switch and his grip relaxing enough for her to escape, his hand coming up to the side of his head.

He suddenly remembered her over the throbbing pain at the side of his head, but the moment he tried to lunge back for the door it slammed shut before him. His hands met with the surface when it clicked into place, giving an audible bang against it. He took a step back, instead of rushing in. A woman living alone, he imagined she had some form of self defense stashed away in her room and regretted having not scouted her appropriately beforehand. He took a step back, appraising the room, noticing the refresher as an adjacent door. He glanced around the room briefly, snagging the remote to the holo-display.

As light on his feet as he could be, he maneuvered into the doorway of the bathroom. He aimed the remote back at the holo-display, cut it on and held his finger to the upwards volume button. He hoped the sudden loud burst of music that came on from the last channel she had been watching would distract her long enough. In an instant after the sound came on, he threw the second door of the bathroom open and burst into the bedroom. Fortunately she was on the same side of the bed as the door he burst through.

His torso bent low, and his arms threw around her body, pinning her arms against her sides and tackling her to the bed. The hand closest to her weapon slid down her arm and pushed the weapon to the mattress and hopefully out of her grasp. "Quiet!" Fortunately the loud music in the other room would help to drown out any screams. "You don't have to get hurt if you cooperate. Now let me think damnit!"

[Laserra Minxene]

Her breath huffed through her lips raggedly, her fingers going numb from gripping her holdout blaster so severely. She admitted a whole body jerk as the holo-display in her living room cut on and the volume steadily grew. What was he doing? Her brows knit together and her eyes narrowed, their cerulean hue barely visible through her thick, dusky lashes. She cut a sharp glance toward her bathroom just before he came crashing through the door, pile driving her into the mattress. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and the blaster dangled, then fell from her fingers.

"No!" She screamed at him as it fell, fighting against him with all the strength she could manage. She opened her mouth to scream again only be promptly silenced by his stern dismissal. He told her that violence wasn't necessary but of course she didn't believe him. Laserra still couldn't get over the fact that she was staring up at Dorian's face and yet, clearly it was not him. Let him think? She squirmed beneath him, which did her little good. "Why do you look like him? What do you want with me?"

[Torian Arcanos]

He fought at her with every movement. Arms moved, weight shifted, whatever he needed to do to keep himself from being struck again. “If I wanted you dead right now, I’d snap your neck and be done with it. I have no ill intentions for you.” He couldn’t expect her to believe him through a panic addled mind, but he could hope for it. “I’ll answer your questions if you remain quiet, but I am not getting off.” He needed to keep control, and yet allow her the feeling of regaining some comfort and control. Giving her the freedom to ask questions was his first steps to doing so.

“He is my brother, though he does not know I exist.” That was what Torian was led to believe and so far, it seemed to remain the truth. Laserra had obviously never heard of any brother of Dorian’s. “I’d like it to remain that way, so let’s keep this secret between us for now.” Again, creating comfort in the subtle words like suggesting she would be free to talk to others but he desired his secret kept. “Next question.” She’d already asked him a question, so he leapt immediately into an answer.

“I did not know you existed before today. I’m investigating some things my brother is up to. I need to learn more about him, so I found the matchbook. From there you found me, and we ended up here. I had no intentions for you, but now knowing how much you may know of Dorian, I see ways you can help me and I am sure I can find ways to help you.” He gave her an answer, even if it did skirt the issue a bit, Those more details answers could wait, but he wanted to be as honest as he could, which sometimes meant providing as little of an answer as possible.”

[Laserra Minxene]

By the time he had finished answering her questions, she could only look up at his all-to-familiar face with her mouth agape. A brother. A twin brother. An identical frakking twin brother! It was something straight out of the holo-vids and she really wanted to pinch herself to see if she was even actually awake. For some reason, he wanted to keep his identity a secret from Dorian and that did not sit well with her. However, she schooled her features into some kind of facade of understanding. His brother had mentioned something about mysterious deaths of foster families he'd been with, close friends disappearing. Realization that this imposter could have something to do with that made dread curl in her stomach right along with the alcohol she'd had way too much of.

"You want me to help you... spy on your brother?" She murmured quietly, her brow furrowing as she contemplated why. She didn't want to ask that flat out, afraid that knowing too much might mean the end of her. For now, staying on this guy's good side was the best she could hope for. "Well, it looks like you'll have a scar to match his now... so that probably will not be a problem in the future. What is your name? Can I get up now?" She asked, her hips flexing up into his own.