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[Desmond Krauser]

Ralltiir

Desmond paused before exiting the office of Vivella Xilaren, the Zeltron woman beckoning his attention back. “And Desmond, if you break her heart I’ll break your ship, and then I’ll break you.” She smiled sweetly enough, and he threw his own charming smile back at the woman. “Wouldn’t dream of it, boss.” Vivella had suggested that maybe he should meet her granddaughter, the Zeltron woman all too keen to bring Morgana deeper and deeper into the underworld. Desmond was a prime candidate in her eyes because he was easy to look at, and locked into a smuggling contract with her presently, the likes of which he could possibly involve Morgana in.

He’d been in an out of Club Litoral enough to be familiar with its layout, even if they had expanded and added an additional bar. Stepping slowly down the stairs that led from the upper level VIP, Desmond used his high vantage point to locate Morgana amongst the crowd, no easy task with the constant flow of patrons dancing in rhythm to the music. To no avail, he moved towards the bar closest the stairway to the floor above, setting a marked credit chip atop the table. A gift from Vivella, it made his drinks on the house for the evening. “Corellian Whiskey.” He made his first order, leaning his right side into the bar and keeping his body angled the best he could to take in the crowd.

While he would have been glad to take the Zeltron matron up on her suggestion, he knew it was just a suggestion. Thus, he intended to make the most of his evening regardless. The leather of his black jacket creaked as he rose a hand up, posting his arm atop the counter in time with the glass that was deposited into his awaiting hand. The music hit in a rhythm that forced his head to move to mirror and raised his heart rate to match, or maybe that was a result of being in the presence of a full blooded Zeltron for so long. Either way, he was ready to take in the night before he commit himself to the job.

[Morgana DeLaTour]

Morgana used to gravitate towards more upscale clubs; but in the last couple of years, she had found herself spend so much time at Club Litoral for work, that she had got to know everyone even better; and she had to admit that the DJs and barkeeps were only getting better. The success of the club, which was a great cover for many shady dealings handled by her grandmother, was only exponential since it had opened over a decade ago. So it was easy to just drop by, before or after work for her criminal relative, or just to wind down.

The new lights were very much to her liking. It had been a birthday present to Vivella. Since Morgana was a light sculptor among other things, her eye for light and color was exquisite and it had been a lot of fun to work with the technicians. Morgana loved being filthy rich; but there was something that kept bringing her back to the underworld, and it wasn't just family obligations, if she was honest.

She had heard that her grandmother had a few new recruits, at least some that Morgana didn't know yet, around that evening, but she was on a mission before hunting scoundrels.

Her university friend Irkalla was in town. She hadn't seen her in a while, and they had agreed to meet at the club. The tall brunette (https://i.pinimg.com/474x/b1/06/de/b106de0f9dd98aedf381a2b8cdc47f93.jpg) looked around the crowd, searching for a hottie she remembered well from many sexy and bratty episodes during their free time on Commenor.

When she eventually spotted her, she made her way through the crowd. In rhythm with the music, she rested her hands on Irkalla's hips, her chest pressing against her friend's back, as she nibbled at the other woman's neck, before purring into her ear. "Hello, gorgeous."

[Irkalla]

"Dude, I dare you."

"You're kidding me, right? She is waaaay out of my league."

An understatement. If they were truly measuring in terms of leagues, she had one all to herself and Irkalla carried herself with that knowledge. Bright eyes idly flitted this way and that, nothing holding her interest for very long. It was a nice place for sure but she certainly wasn't a novice when it came to such environments. The straw, protruding from her cocktail, rolled as she tipped her glass and came to nestle itself against the plush pillow of her lips. She sucked the fruity alcohol through its length until she was satisfied with the amount gathered in her mouth. She swallowed, a bit of condensation that had amassed at the base of the cup dripping down from the rim onto her chest.

It was warm in here and the sensation made her eyes flutter in pleasure and a wicked smile to curve her lips. She turned away from the dumb-struck boys who had been working up the courage to approach but now thought better of it. Watching was good enough, there was no telling what deviant thing she would do next. The music thumped overhead and one graceful hand reached up to push a cascade of dark hair over her shoulder, her mane's melted chocolate hues seeming to blend into the dark temptation that was her attire (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/74/ef/2974efe6b31f4027eba81dd8ec491c4b.jpg); all designer pieces of course, including her stiletto heels. Like a cherry on top, her red lipstick stood out in contrast against her smooth, creamy skin. A dark angel in a den of iniquity, it would seem.

Hands came to her hips, the touch familiar and most welcome. Her empty glass was discarded onto a tray belonging to a passing waiter and then both hands ventured back, stroking along the curves of Morgana's upper thighs, her hips, around the small of her back. Her head tilted to allow her better access to her neck, her vibrant eyes slicing an impish look her way. "Mmm.. hello there." She purred back, her own timbre like smoke and allurement.

She turned in her arms, her fingers trailing along her body as she did so. "You look amazing, of course." She leaned in, kissing her short and sweet directly on the lips. "...what mischief do you have planned for us tonight?"

[Desmond Krauser]

Desmond, by chance, ended up near to Irkalla. In the time prior his focus had been on the reception of his drink, which he reclaimed the marked credit for future beverages. The childish drunken exchange of suggestions to converse with a woman piqued his curiosity enough to turn his attention where they looked, subtly catching sight of the woman over the rim of his whiskey. Out of their leagues was right. What made her even further out of their leagues, was when another dark-haired woman claimed the firsts attention and the two exchanged a kiss.

“Let this one lie, compadres. There may be two of them and two of you, but one of them would’ve been more woman than both of you could have handled together.” He tipped his glass, emptying the contents of his Corellian Whiskey into the glass of one of the two young men. “Here, enjoy the complimentary drink.” He turned back to the server, the same who had previously helped him, and gave a point across the bar. “The bottle this time and bring three glasses over there in just a moment.” His attention turned over towards the pairing.

“Her grandmother tried to suggest some mischief for her already, though I’m sure she’s used to her plays at matchmaker.” The bartender arrived on cue, setting the trio of glasses side by side. Her tipped the bottle to pour a respectful amount into each of the three glasses, letting them choose their own independently. “Desmond.” He introduced himself, sure to afford equal attention to each of them. “You I don’t know but am looking forward to knowing.” He first offered to Irkalla, then turned to Morgana. “And you must be Morgana. Your grandmother has a very flattering holo of you on her desk.” The corner of his lips cocked into a half smile that radiated the confidence necessary to even make the approach. “I feel like there’s a reunion of sorts happening right now between you two, which means we need a toast. Anyone want to start us off?”

[Morgana DeLaTour]

Morgana briefly caught sight of the young idiots. Oh they couldn't even dream of being three leagues lower than the one Irkalla belonged to, or herself for that matter. The socialite just grinned as she was happily kneading her friend's curves. The other brunette still was exquisite and sinful as hell. They picked up their delightful sync right away. She purred against her friend's neck as she felt wandering but steady hands on her body. And that voice was the lure of the century, and Morgana was happy to be trapped as such. It was only payback for all the times she had pinned Irkalla against various surfaces.

When the sexy brunette turned to face her, she purred at the offered compliment, which was cut short by Irkalla's lips against hers, luscious as ever. She grinned devilishly at the question. "Definitely revisiting our past entanglements, and bringing one or more deserving parties," she stated with her Zeltron impudence.

As if on cue, she saw a new hottie she hadn't got her hands on yet. He was bold, if not borderline reckless; but his assurance was about as intoxicating as his looks. When he mentioned her grandmother, she guessed he had to be one of the new errand boys. She noted how he gave equal attention to both of them, a good point. Irkalla and herself were perfectly capable of meeting each other's need, but any party added would have to be willing to do double work to ensure they were both equally satisfied.

"Well, Desmond," she purred at him, accepting the glass, "I am surprised my grandmother didn't try to keep you all to herself." Her intense gaze traveled up and down his frame, pausing at all the right places for lingering examination.

"Was the holo-picture as flattering as me in the flesh," she asked point blank, staring at him.

The notion of holding a toast was somewhat hilarious, but she nevertheless rested a hand on the small of Irkalla's back, though her fingertips hovered almost low enough to be on her curvy ass. She raised her glass regardless, curious as to how bold and worthy this new guy might be. "To a night of decadence."