"We should all be so lucky to set our own futures." From Jack to Miri
Welcome to Night Vale askbox meme
“Luck’s part of it, yes, but I did a lot of fighting to get there. Lot of fighting to keep it that way too. Not all violent, or even physical, but there’s more than one kind of battle. Still, you can be the fightingest son of a bantha but if you’ve got frag-all luck you’ll meet your destiny quick as any di'kutla green boy. Some people have a lot of fight, but no luck, or worse: all bad. And some people are born with so much of it they never need to fight. Guess I got just enough luck to make the fight work.”
She sighed and raised her glass.
“May the cosmic deck always be stacked in your favour,” she smirked at him and winked, “except if you’re up against me.”
So far, he hasn’t shown much interest in the Alien.
He’s seen greater oddities, and she’s seems a little
too much like Tiran for her to be worth his while.
They’ve exchanged maybe a word or two in passing,
but nothing more.
Certainly not enough to warrant that reaction.
Anyone would be mortified to wake up in a bar, but
most people under his scrutiny just shift nervously
and maybe blush.
They don’t bolt.
Not unless he’s threatened them in the past, or
they’ve done something to inspire his fury. She had
been staring at him, he realizes -- which is why he
had turned to look at her in the first place. And im-
mediately he’s on high alert, wondering if he should
be checking his drink for poison.
Right in the place he should be safest!
He excuses himself from the bar, promising whoever
is working that he’ll be right back.
And then he follows Miri out onto the street -- silently,
and obscured in a cloak of magic that prevents him
from being seen. He doesn’t know what he expects to
find -- whether he will need to chase her down, exact
retribution for some crime she has committed against
him. He can think of no other reason why she might turn
tail and flee at the mere sight of him.
He does not expect this: the Twi’lek braced against the
Tavern wall, breathing hard, sparking fear against his
consciousness. And... pain?
His eyes narrow, and he turns on his heel and marches
straight back into the Tavern, dropping the invisibility
spell as he makes a beeline for Tiran.
“ Tiran... a moment, if you please. Your friend -- the blue-
skinned woman... ” He nods toward the door.
“ Is there something I ought to know about her? She saw
me and fled -- as though she had seen a particularly
malevolent ghost. I suspected treachery at first, but
I’m... not certain. ”
Send "Dance with me" to pull my muse in for a slow dance.
“Thought you’d never ask,” she beams, twirling into Tiran’s arms.
Miri is visibly delighted. She dances like she was born to do it, which in a sense she was, every motion is fluid and graceful. With the possible exception of flying, there’s nothing she loves more. Sharing that love with a friend means more than she knows how to express. Her eyes shine with emotion, and she can’t suppress her grin. She laughs softly with the pure joy of dancing.
The blow lands. In one fluid motion, the Twi’lek turns and rolls, stopping under a table a few feet away with knives drawn. Then...
...she realises.
Somewhat awkwardly, she puts her blades away and extracts herself from the underside of the table, apologising profusely to the occupants.
The offending loaf is retrieved, and Miri stalks over to the pain in the butt Tiran. She smooshes the bread on top of his head, deliberately rubbing crumbs into his hair.
“I hate you.” She buys them both a drink. And pays the bill for the group at the table.
“Ah, Tiran!” Miri flashes a broad grin. “He’s fun. A lot of fun. I laugh so much when I’m with him. We could get up to a great deal of mischief together. I hope we will. And, of course, it doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.”
Tiran slides yet another drink Miri's way "A'ight, a'ight, I gave one story, let's hear one'a yers! Don't leave me hangin' with daydreams now!" Tiran laughs.
[NSFW - Drunken blue alien girl talks sexcapades and isn’t shy about it]
“Oh, I don’t know if I can compete,” she responds in a voice grown husky with laughter and drink. “I’m pure and sweet and innocent.” There is no conceivable universe where Miri said such a thing to Tiran with a straight face. She leans in with a conspiratorial wink: “Sweet, anyway.” There’s something for his daydreams.
She sits back, takes a generous swig and shakes her head. “No, okay. Yes. Right. You want a story? Yes. So, y’know Twi’leks? My species. We have these lekku, right? Head tentacles?” She scoops one over her shoulder and gently pets it in demonstration. Except it’s also an erogenous zone, so she shivers and bites her lip a little, momentarily distracted. She shakes her head again, releasing the brain-tail which slides into its usual resting place behind her back. “Well they’re supposed to be prehensile? But mine are all broken and lame, so they don’t move. Well, they move, but they’re floppy, no control, just gravity. So, so. I was negotiating terms for this one job, right? And the guy, a human, is giving me signals - I mean, of course he’s giving me signals - so I offer to sweeten the deal for him in return for a better price. Say what you will about mixing pleasure with business, it is on occasion both fun and profitable.” She smirks. “He takes my offer, they always do, even adds extra if I’ll bring a Twi’lek girlfriend which, okay, I know a girl who’d be up for an easy payday. Anyway, I do the job and it goes fine. I come back for my payment and the rest of the deal.”
“At first, it’s pretty standard, y’know? We dance for him; striptease, niiiice and slow. Lots of touching each other and kissing. He watches, gives instructions, we comply. All very vanilla. But he’s barely hard? How does that even happen? I mean, look at me! And the other girl? She was stunning. Beautiful purple skin with the most kissable spots down her lekku and back and torso. I swear, the guy isn’t even sporting a semi until we start touching each other’s lekku. That wakes him up though. Boy, does it!” She takes another drink.
“Turns out he has a tentacle fetish, and I wish he’d said so before ‘cause mine are dumb and even if they weren’t they don’t work quite how he wanted? Man, she was pissed at me, but it’s not like it was my fault! I was blindsided too! By the end of it, he was tied up between two posts, sucking one of my lekku while I had to wrap the other around his neck and pull it tight to choke him; and ‘cause hers actually worked right she was on her knees, one lekku wrapped around his cock while she sucked him off, and the other teasing his butthole - although he wanted a lot more. Every time he closed his eyes, she glared daggers into me, and I just mouthed ‘I am so sorry’ over his shoulder again and again. I think I gave her all the extra profit I’d negotiated off him for the job.”
“I’m not one to kink shame, but tell a person if you’re looking for something specific! Besides,” she grins, “it can be really hot when someone tells you exactly what they want. Don’t you think?”
Miri is on her back, on the ground, with her head and arms in one of the ship’s many cavities, clearly tinkering with something. She’s wearing a pair of shorts that seem less like actual clothing and more of an accessory to hold her tool belt. Aside from that, she’s only covered by the oil that’s oozing over her chest and dripping into the large pool that’s formed around her. Her body is toned and fit, lithe even. She’s attractive and she knows it - she’s a Twi’lek female, that’s exactly why they’re such sought after slaves. With this much of it exposed, it’s easy to see that her skin isn’t all the same shade of blue; there are lighter spots like freckles, some darker mottling, and occasional silvery scars.
“If you take any pictures, I get 50% of the profits.” Her tone is as playful and flirtatious as usual. “Make yourself useful and pass me the mallet by my knee? I can’t get the wrench to shift any further, and either this leak goes or I do, but I’m not giving up without a fight.”
