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Use Caution [closed] - Printable Version

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Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 09-25-2015

<img style="" src="http://i.imgur.com/vr2HgH2.png" style="max-width:100%;]

A 1x1 between Kat && Deific.
Feel free to read along.




Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 09-25-2015

The Auroun was, among other things, susceptible to falling asleep soon after the act- regardless whether or not Demagol intended to keep his cock sheathed in her tight folds for the remainder of the night together. As it was, Rhailo had no idea what time it was; space always threw off her perception of time. It could have been two in the morning, or two in the afternoon, and her choice to snuggle against her companion's chest would remain the same. There was the thrum of his heart to listen to, her luminous hues flickering in their half mast state of fatigue, while lights dimmed throughout the cabin. Demagol had been understanding of his home when he bought this ship, Rhailo was sure of it. Small hints of personalized improvements came to attention with each new moment she was in his bed, and a strange sense of pride for her companion blossomed from his readiness. A sensor run feature muted the overhead halogens, giving their room a hint of darkness she assumed aided in mild attention deprivation. If there were no distractions from sleep, it would come easier. So on and so forth, her thoughts only briefly reflected on these additions before the woman drifted into slumber.

Ah, there it was. The precipice.

Rhailo stood with her back to the chasm, and for what felt like several moments, she listened. The quiet wasn't true silence. Instead, it started as the softest hum, and then fed into a bevy of voices all chattering like a flock of incessantly vocal birds. The chirps were a tirade, mocking and shallow, and though she didn't argue with the points made as a frown settled over her lips, she did disagree. "No." Her answer was slow, drawn out as if it were meant to be a question, but there was no reprieve from the commotion of the incorporeal peanut gallery. Perhaps she was used to this sort of berating. Maybe Rhailo just didn't feel a need to fight further. Features tilted to the right side as a glance was cast towards the bottomless abyss at her rear, pale figure swiveling on the balls of her feet achingly slow as she chose to rotate. The skin on her arms rose, prickled and receptive to this new variety of cold the creature was unfamiliar without outside this current state of being. It worked like that sensation of the void. Without warmth; captured emptiness.

When facing the endless maw of eternity, one did well not to make any missteps. She would need to use caution-

A gasp escaped the Auroun as she awoke- this sound so soft, she doubted for a second it had happened. Her hand rose slowly to cover her mouth, fluttering lashes releasing their otherworldly light across the spill of area where she lay with Demagol; their mess still intact. While grazing her lips hesitantly, her other set of digits sought the Mandalorian's visage to direct a feather light examination over his chiseled features. Her inspection was thorough, or as thorough as one was able to make the barest of touches be so not to wake their company. Rhailo could have gone back to sleep, were it not for the expression he was making- that glimpse of pain. Something in the manner Demagol furrowed his dark brows made her wonder just where sleep took the male for hours at a time. Did he venture back to trails long ago traveled? Was their a hint to his past in the deep recesses of the man's mind? Surely, it wasn't entirely out of the question to check.

After all, she had been invited to share his home. His mind was part of that to some extent, wasn't it?

Invasive as it may have been, as the snow topped creature returned to laying against Demagol's chest, her mind extended a phantasmal tendril that seemed eager to branch and prong itself out over the sleeping hunter's head. Ghostly feelers would be unseen by mundane eyes as they created a light mask that encompassed Demagol's portrait with what could be considered a pleasant warmth. Anchored, Rhailo slipped back to sleep, though immediately found the landscape to have changed. Nude and confused, bare feet met with the memories of a sunken marsh, and her body immediately regretted the humid temperatures as wayward precipitation dotted her flesh. A stranger was speaking to himself, and her presence drifted closer to make out what details she could of the scene, though she didn't seem to notice standing openly in the general vicinity of the male. She was just an apparition, after all. This dream, or memory, wouldn't change regardless of what Rhailo may have wanted to do.

It was in time with the attack that she understood what she was watching. Too little, too late.

A massive claw came crashing down into the figure, and almost immediately, Rhailo's consciousness recoiled back to the fleshlands. Reattaching to her own body meant waking up once more, but this time there was no gasp to accompany the action. Instead, the woman laid statue still in her increasingly possessive wrap around Demagol's shoulders, her lips pressed to his throat while stiff eyelids squeezed tight in moot attempt to unsee what had just been see. That had been... Was it? Prying eyes suffered the consequences of their actions, and so too did Rhailo feel as though there was no real way to return to a time before she had blindly wandered into the Mandalorian's dream. No, it was a nightmare. Her heart felt heavier due to the intrusion, and a lack of information on the male meant she wasn't sure if she could share having seen the events unfold. If the Auroun told him what she had done, he would be upset. The idea of confidentiality and privacy being ignored often sparked a sense of betrayal in others. This was a problem.

Just as his reading of her case file may have upset Rhailo, she presumed this was just as violating for Demagol, despite not wanting any such feelings to arise from her curiosity. in her defense, she hadn't intended to see that memory. Had it been a choice, the Auroun would have preferred to peer into a scenario with less tragedy inherently tied to the scene. Was he so damaged that there was no possibility of this happening? No. This was just unfortunate scrying on her part, and if nothing else, she could keep the revelation tucked away for the time being. As per usual, there was a series of thoughts to review over the course of time. Now though, hours had passed since the two had initially fallen asleep, and Rhailo was certain Demagol would appreciate waking up- especially with what had been taking place in his dream. "Dema.." The creature began sheepishly, the words mouthed against the skin of his throat between a train of kisses.

"Wake up, Demagol."



Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 10-06-2015

[font=Roboto]Life had an interesting way of derailing Rhailo's plans, and what motives she had that were once considered priority were slowly being shuffled to the bottom of her list of things the woman eventually meant to accomplish. There were countless hopes she clung to, but none so adamantly as Demagol's acceptance, as that would be what decided her position, and existence, from here on out. She knew this, and no matter what amount of reassurance she was given, the facts hovered in the back of her mind like baleful ghosts; lingering just out of obvious reach. Demagol was giving her thanks, though she couldn't accept them. Not genuinely. Instead, the Auroun nodded a brief acknowledgement into the nape of the hunter's neck before fluttering silvery lashes open to study the tempo of his exposed pulse. Were memories always meant to be nightmares, or were nightmares the memories someone least wished to recall?

Her memories were strange, foreign, and inevitably unshaped. She didn't return to the places she least wished to visit within her dreamscape, nor could she understand why humanoids had a habit of doing so; one couldn't change their past. One couldn't relive their mistakes to remedy them. Instead, her dreams were a fantastical and vibrant collection of the unique and abstract. Places she couldn't reach without the assistance of an extended and overtaxed psyche- though it seemed natural to the Auroun, given the layers of reality impacting upon the fleshlands were equivalent to dreams for Rhailo. Beautifully crafted, but thoroughly caustic to the viewer of such realms, she tread a fine line every instance of dreaming she explored. Rhailo dwindled ever so slightly with each viewing, and peeking into the lost places Demagol had been was safer than visiting her own planes created for the purpose of exploration. The existence of one Auroun was enough to create worlds, but with so many of her kind in circulation, the umbral paths branching through the existing network of newly created space was staggering.

If she wasn't careful, she could lose herself in the dream.

But not dreams of Demagol's creation. The only consequences she felt for spying was the guilt attached to the act, and while the hunter was apparently knowledgeable of her slight, Rhailo didn't bring direct attention to the fact. It appeared easier for the creature to listen for the time being, her body rising and falling with each steady breath the Mandalorian took beneath her frame. Fingers crawled over his muscles, tracing his arm where the tips of wandering digits could inspect veins and ligature through the barest of caresses. Her touch was casual, albeit intimate in it's own right. He was still new to her, despite the past few days the two had been together. It was hard to believe how quickly the duo had moved along with their relationship, and by some fortunate twist of circumstance, Rhailo Destros shared a bed with her companion rather than being forced to occupy a holding cell.

"I'm not afraid," she lied quietly, her lids fluttering once more as the remnants of sleep were blinked away. "But I agree. With the nightmare, that is... You seemed troubled." Shifting, thighs squeezed slightly as she made to remove herself from Demagol's torso, his cock freed from the captivity she had kept it in over the course of the last several hours. Palms flattened against the bed to aid in standing, and with a slow crawl away from the Mandalorian, Rhailo straightened next to the bed with a soft expel of air through her nostrils. Despite sleeping, she felt tired; fatigue wormed it's way through her slender figure. "Are you often troubled by nightmares, Demagol?" Rhailo's voice never seemed to rise much louder than a pleasant lilt, and as her vocals cut through the darkness, her faintly glowing presence drifted through the mire of their conversation. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy speaking with the male. On the contrary, she wished they did more talking- but now felt incredibly uncomfortable in terms of subject matter.

Delicately, she meant to avoid returning to the topic of Demagol's deceased brother and the dream she had witnessed.

"You've seen what I'm capable of. That really doesn't have much to do with this." Rhailo protested under her breath, a faint smile crossing her lush lips as she added matter-of-factually, "I just thought it was time to get up, and it's easier not to startle you if you're awake as well. Otherwise, you might have pulled a knife on me, and that would have been a problem..." Pale fingers rose to motion from one side of her throat to the other; a sharp indication of her fears concerning her companion's possible reaction. "But now we're both awake, and I have to ask: Where are we going?" After all, Rhailo was curious of this as well as Demagol's past, but their current plans were a safer topic to approach with small talk. Twirling where she stood, the woman paced around the bed to the other side of the room, continuing to speak throughout this series of actions. "I think I should shower again... Maybe this is something I should wait to ask until you're more awake? I don't really know if you're a morning person or not."

Attention rose to her pale locks, and as equally fair fingers raked through the pigmentless strands, Rhailo resembled the opalescent sheen seen on pearls and sea shells. As deceptively human as she could appear at times, there was no mistaking her otherworldly attributes when the two of them were alone. A lack of background influences like overwhelming light sources really put her alien qualities into perspective, and on the same note, she looked at Demagol in that curious fashion indicating she was assessing him. He was a foreigner, and his customs differed from her own. His world was new and frightening, and no matter what brave smile found it's way across her features, her stomach was in knots. "You know... You're very attractive." Her pacing paused at the end of the bed, where the Auroun hovered with her arms crossed just beneath the swell of her breasts.

"It makes me feel like you should have someone somewhere waiting for you... Why don't you?"



RE: Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 12-03-2015

It was in the way her hands seemed active at all times. Distance. Ruffling through the tangle of snowy locks, anchoring loose strands behind the hidden tips of her ears. The crests were still decorated in silver piercings, toyed with only when Rhailo looked away from Demagol towards the illuminated chamber they shared. Her expression wasn't melancholic, but the happiness she may have felt didn't quite reach her eyes. There were too many questions, uneasy and stifling, hidden behind the veil of stagnancy. Was it easier to leave well enough alone? Sometimes she thought so, perhaps when not brave enough to broach the subject head on, though now it was difficult to decipher if she shied away from Demagol's nightmares because they weren't a subject she needed to learn more about, or she did so simply out of fear. One might think Rhailo flighty, given how lightly she tread through personal details in her attempts to seem more suited for the hunter's lifestyle. She didn't want to get under his feet, or get into his business, but when living with someone, it was hard to avoid these sort of involvements without cutting important ties.

When she asked him surface questions relating to his habits with women, or lovers, she figured this was safer than acknowledging the deaths of his loved ones. "I can wake you up in the future. That isn't a problem." Offhandedly, the Auroun halted her pacing to rest against the far wall, her back arched slightly against the architecture in languid display of bare curves. There was true art to be found in the way her movements seemed to compliment her figure, though Rhailo didn't notice such subtle nuances, nor did she need validation for what she was. It was her actions that she felt deserved some sort of praise, though now wasn't the time for whispered words to boost her already inflated sense of self. Rhailo's ego didn't require attention, but lord help anyone who avoided stroking it from time to time. "Well, you shouldn't be afraid of me either way... I just wanted to be sure I wasn't going to face any backlash for what I did." The corners of her lips twitched slightly as she added, "Gives me a sense of purpose, waking you up..."

Pale lids closed as the woman stretched, cat-like and shameless, against the wall. Still trying to wake up, her muscles ached and her legs remained stiff even as she pulled back to stand at her full height once again. "You don't seem like the type to enjoy shopping." Said as though she knew his type, Rhailo was once more questioning her companion as he let slip her need for belongings. Specifically clothing, though at this rate, she would hardly have use for a wardrobe given their inherent isolation. If this ship was Demagol's domain, did she expect to be dressed while staying on it? Hardly. Not with the Mandalorian's appetites. "I don't have any credits, except those few I gave you. Are you offering to buy me things, Demagol?" Rhailo's smile grew as she asked further, "Did you want to spoil me so soon?" Never one to question the hospitality of others, the woman left it alone for the time being, favoring formulating a response regarding how he expressed his curiosity concerning her involvements. Did she have others dedicated to her, or was he the last of her life lines?

Romantic as it may have been to think Demagol was the only tie Rhailo had left to this plane of existence, her head shook slowly before she dashed the sentiment. "I don't know if my attractiveness is what has made me friends, or not, but I have allies here and there. I wouldn't say I'm without friends- but I wouldn't think myself completely reliant on them either." Rhailo clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth before offering, "My brother isn't alone out there. He's just not glued to my hip. I wouldn't want him to be, considering how much you enjoy putting your hands there." Teasing as the grip at her jaw seemed to guide her features, the Auroun felt as though he was assessing her answers while they were given. Her brow knit slightly in question, though she didn't openly protest being held in such a fashion. "He wanted to meet up with us at some point, given he's worried, and the last thing we need is Brax in a panic." She tapped the side of her temple lightly as she admitted, "He can talk to me when he wants to, but it's not talking that worries me."

"I think what worries me more is him taking over, thinking he can help." Rhailo didn't intentionally make it vague when she said this, though she realized how it came off after the fact. "I don't know what you wish to know about me. It would be easier to answer if there were direct questions to answer..." Trailing off, the creature batted her lashes as she looked upwards to the Mandalorian with an impish grin. "But why do you want to know? Because I'm yours? What if there are things I don't want to tell you?" Easing away from Demagol to sweep her gaze over the displays of the ship present in their company, Rhailo went on to say, "But I don't eat much. Meats mostly. Carnivore diet, with some carbs here and there. Never been one for fruits. Really can't stand vegetables. I didn't have sweets until I was much older, though I think I could live on cake if I really wanted to. You know? Like lemon pound cake, or cheese cake, or uh... That one with the chocolate?"

Reaching up, Rhailo stroked Demagol's cheek from the distance she created between them before chirping, "I love cake. If we'll be doing everything together, you should know- it's very important."



RE: Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 12-12-2015

Rhailo didn't blame Demagol for perspective timelines crossing as awkwardly as they had.

Having met one another this late in their lives, the duo's histories were already mapped out to a certain extent. Inevitable individuality, it wasn't an immediate problem. Perhaps it was easier for Rhailo to have met Demagol then, as she was, with a decent head on her shoulders and a sense of self she had taken several years to find. One didn't begin their journey through life knowing just who they were, but in this moment with the Mandalorian in her company, the Auroun felt assured she projected comfort in her own skin. He seemed comfortable with her, at the very least. "If you give me an inch, I'll take a mile." But they both were clear of any false illusions pertaining to what Rhailo may or may not have been. Her kind was the sort to float through life unabated, and while some would say that proved itself in her mannerisms and attitude, they didn't know the just how far down the tip of this iceberg went. It wasn't that she hadn't faced her share of trials and tribulations- No. It was more to do with how she handled them.

Her confidence didn't seem dulled by her past exploits.

If nothing else, the smile Rhailo gave was indicator enough that she thought highly of herself in current regards. If for show, or because she didn't realize just how self indulgent she appeared, it wasn't clear. "So, you want to spoil me?" A hum was issued in her throat before the sound was followed with, "Because you like the idea of playing dress up with me. It's alright, Dema, I understand." Teasing him never grew old, and with his expression so carefree for the time being, she took advantage of the slack given. After all, he wasn't always so genial, and she knew this was as decent a time as any to appreciate the hunter in his casual state. "I do like to be spoiled, you know..." She trailed off when Demagol closed the gap between them, and her lips would part into the kiss, allowing her a brief taste of his lips while nuzzled gently against the grain of his five o'clock shadow.

Rhailo never tried to pull away from being held by her chin, though she whispered quietly as the kiss ended, "I would kiss you back even if you didn't prompt me to."

Sometimes she saw coping mechanisms embedded in the male's behavior, and she admired these flaws. Compatibility was key at this point in their unplanned union. They matched hers, and for this, she felt better. More acclimated to what Demagol was offering, even if it would seem outlandish to some. Rhailo had been free with puppet strings for much of her life, so being legally owned didn't feel any more stifling. She just didn't look forward to speaking of it with outsiders; she was stuck in a strange predicament with her current beau. Their entire life together was new, and webby with small problems branching into larger problems. Her lack of clothing was only surface level, but her brother came next, followed by what changes she would need to make to belong with Demagol in a fashion that didn't resemble classic interpretations of slavery. She wasn't a slave - yet, she wasn't free. Where did that really leave the Auroun?

"It would be hard to work if I was there, being worn like a belt." Rhailo confessed quietly, the suggestiveness in her smile all the more apparent by the way she leaned her figure towards the taller male pinning her to the wall. "I don't know how many bounties you'd have time to chase if I was there, stealing all your attention." Still close, her lips dragged languidly along the outline of his jaw before they reached his throat, while she further kissed and sucked near the warmth of his pulse. "I don't know how you'll manage with me in tow. Honestly, I'd quite a handful sometimes... But I think you like the challenge, don't you, Dema?" The corner of her lip twitched deviously as she added with an exaggerated sigh, "I know you're a handful. A mouthful. Even more. Perhaps the ship could use some changes. After all, it's now meant to house the two of us, so shouldn't it reflect that?"

It wasn't until Brax had become the topic of interest that Rhailo eased slightly away from the Mandalorian, her smile faltering in response. "Well, it's a link of sorts, sure. I had never really called it anything so alien, but he can do quite a bit more than I can. He's very skilled. Probably to do with his commitment to his abilities- honed skills, you know. You spent years training to be a bounty hunter in one fashion or another, and here you are. A name known, wealthy and respected... A bit feared by some. Brax is very similar in that regard, with his years of training. Just, with his inherent capabilities." Rhailo paused with a dry laugh before continuing. "Yes, he could puppet me around if he wanted to. He busts into my mind to talk to me all the time, and if I'm free to be honest with you, it worries me how he might take me blowing him off. He wanted to meet us wherever we stopped next, and he's probably with Ganjion and Tessa, which means a whole plethora of questions."

"I don't think he would read my mind, if it helps. Rather, I should say, Auroun have an unwritten code concerning the ettiquette of our abilities. You don't just probe someone's mind for answers. Even war criminals are spared that sort of treatment. We're not a warmongering race anyway. We just want to keep to ourselves, and Brax's capabilities were trained as strictly as they were because he has every intention to become a lightbearer for our home world." She sniffed the air and scanned the changing environment of their chamber as a table set up erected itself before adding, "But he's my twin, and thinking I can just shake him by telling him to bug off is silly. Siblings don't work that way. Persistence is just part of the package, and realistically, if the tables were turned and he was the one skipping out of the life he lived to gallivant around with some strange man, I would be equally worried."

Hearing Demagol express his possessiveness brought a renewed sense of appreciation over the woman as she slipped free to make for the seat now available to her, jumping only slightly with the swat to her ass. "I'll have you know, Demagol, that I am not trying to run away from you. On the contrary, I think I'd much rather get comfy on your ship and see the galaxy than return to Nar Shaada, given I still owe people credits, and it's probably safer not to stick around a place you've made enemies in..." Clearing her throat, she settled in across from where the hunter seated himself, and blinked curiously at her companion for several moments. Admittedly unsure how to answer, she took this time to formulate a clear representation of herself while poking at the plate of food she was given. "I don't honestly know. Preferences don't seem like my sort of thing, you know? I kind of just like what I like, and the rest is secondary. I don't have any aversions or allergies, but if you mean outside of food, you'll have to narrow it down."

Collecting her fork, the creature pushed around the selection of meat before settling on a piece small enough to eat right off the end, and chewed slowly while making a vague gesture. "You see," She said as she finished, reaching for her glass with her other hand, "I've had plenty of hobbies. I sold baubles and trinkets for a while out of a cart, though it was mostly junk I collected. I liked collecting junk, really, because there is always an abundance of tacky knick knacks to take in. No one else wants them, so it makes it easier to hoard, you know?" Her fork waved in a lazy circular motion between them. "I've danced and I've sang, but it's easy to pretend to be good at these things, given what I am. One would say it's hypnotic, yes? Seems like it's cheating. Every time I think about it, I feel like I'm cheating the system somehow. Too many free rides." Rhailo ate a few more bites between passing thoughts before delving further into his questions.

"Obviously, my goal has always been to become the most powerful being in the universe, and to rule with an iron fist." She flashed a cheeky grin. "Isn't that everyone's goal, in the end, Dema? Don't we all just want control?" Another gesture was made before she took a long drink of her water. "But what about you? Did you plan to hunt forever? Is there still a thrill to the hunt, or is this just how you ended up? I hear when you're good at something, it's difficult to escape it. Brax got tied up in his work because of that, while I was given leave to live on Nar Shaada. He had spent so much time negotiating my travel arrangements that I thought I'd never have a chance to get away from home, but sure enough, I got my wish." Glowing, her milky hues lowered towards her plate as she commented, "But it's a shit hole and I was caught up in youthful desires. Who doesn't want to live on Nar Shaada when everything you hear about it is neon and new?"

"But I want to know why you picked up my contract, being it was so small. I wasn't worth much. Small time thieves rarely are, and I'm not stupid. You probably spent more on fuel than you would have received for me. What are your goals, Demagol? Motivations for picking up a straggler?" Rhailo straightened in her seat before confessing, "I thought you would turn around and sell me, given what I am. I know the price is steep for my kind. We're rare. Rare things are always in high demand- which is why the price the s'zari put on me was insulting." The woman expelled a warm burst of air via her nostrils and looked back up to her host. "But now, you seem smitten, so I wouldn't expect you would sell me to the highest bidder. Not yet, at least. Maybe after you get to know me more."



RE: Use Caution [closed] - Kat - 04-14-2016

Klazzik Zentaris was a quiet planet. Quiet enough it didn't receive much in the way of air traffic, and quieter still when the travel and tourism board deemed it unhealthy for most sentient bio organisms to visit. This cut the population of the central city down to a handful of natives and the fleet of empire run machines meant for manual labor and construction. While there wasn't much in the way of things to do, mining operations ran smoothly, and those tied to the process had their cantinas and storefronts to see to their general needs. A local had commented that their way of life was 'slow and steady', but Braxiskroi Destros saw the desolation in empty apartments and barren streets. A ghost town, left to those unable to find a living elsewhere.

Something about the still faces of the people remaining stirred unease in the Auroun.

Ganjion and Tessa were more impressed, or so they seemed, with their questions and their comments concerning the lifestyle. How did they get their food? Where did they put their children through school? Were children even allowed? What made the atmosphere of the planet so toxic in the first place? These weren't necessarily bad questions to ask, but Brax wasn't particularly settled in the details. His thoughts were elsewhere, away from the empty, sulfurous landscape of Klazzik Zentaris, and off further in the galaxy where his sister now found herself. Those questions remained unanswered. Those questions, fueled by natural concern for someone he had once kept so close, were the questions he would find answers to regardless of the consequences.

"You're going to contact her again?"

Asked over their meals, in hushed vocals, Tessa's head canted to one side. She waited for what Brax might say, but his response was to disapprovingly shove around a clump of the dried paste they had been served.

Ganjion happily scarfed his portions, though between bites, seemed more than content to answer for the leader of the three. "She stiffed him before, I bet. Hard to work towards finding someone when they're not looking to be found."

"The trace is there." Brax said bitterly, drawing shapes in the mush with his utensil. "I just don't want to push. If I push, she runs again. If she is in danger, her running might set off a chain of reactions I can't afford to cause."

The other two nodded in turn, their expressions more somber than they once had been. Reality had a way of sobering their moods, and Brax was forever a realist. A cautious and quiet realist, surrounded by silence and personal reflection. "Besides, it's been a day. Just a day. I'm in no rush."

But everyone at their table was well aware he was lying, as there was always a rush involved when seeking to learn the status of a loved one. He would wait only because he was forced to. No longer. Answers would be given, and Rhailo would give them.
---

Despite the seriousness of their discussion, the Auroun cracked a wry grin at the mention of painting the ship pink. Had she come off as the type of woman caught up in a bubblegum haze? Sure, at the strip club, she had worn stilettos and little else, with her hair held high in a bouncing ponytail - but pink? Oh, no. That simply wouldn't do. Especially if she wished for Demagol to keep his rugged appeal. Pink certainly didn't mesh well with his current lifestyle choices, meaning it wouldn't fit with hers, either. "Let's not be hasty, and move on to painting the ship outlandish colors. Could you imagine the eyesore it would be on long journeys? Just, pink... Everywhere. Have a meal, pink. Have a shower, pink. So on and so forth..." She trailed off before flipping snowy locks away from her features. "Let's not do that. Baubles and trinkets work just fine for me. Maybe new upholstery and new sheets. You know, reasonable additions."

For every scar Rhailo had been privy to seeing, there was a story. Demagol was a body of stories, a being held together by countless near death experiences, and for that, she would show him respect. Neither of them had lived easy lives, but she didn't see them as comparable in most accounts. Her world was one of the mind; the endless branching network of synapses cranking raw energy through her neural network. Frail in body, but with such mental potential, she was sought after. Hunted. Demagol was just the right hunter for the job, but what charm she did possess seemed to work in her favor. The S'zari weren't able to play catch up to the two escaped bounties, and Demagol Sento had made it his business to protect the Auroun as well as he could.

Loyalty came in many forms, but the fastest way to earn someone's loyalty was to seat them as high as possible on one's list of priorities. Rhailo could see where she was kept, even if others might not agree with the arrangement. She hadn't asked for their opinions in the matter. "i don't doubt my potential, but I'm not Brax. I never will be. Just as there might be some who hunt bounties who are no where near your level of skill, I'm just a novice. A novice of a great art, yes, but a novice none the less." The food was delicious, given how hungry she was, and bite after bite was consumed happily while she pondered just how to explain her life to someone who knew little of it. Where to start, where to end, and what to leave out. That was what the woman focused on as she began with, "i suppose you wonder what made me wish to leave my home planet in the first place. That's a good start to the story, isn't it?

Rhailo cleared her plate before turning attention to the water, which was drained completely before she picked back up where she had left off. "I hop around a lot with my stories, but there's a great deal to cover, and with time to talk, I find myself more interested in discussing matters. You know, like where I hail from, and why I no longer live there." Now free hands spun through the air, creating a ethereal fog that took shape in ways similar to the light produced by her milky irises. "First, actually, my real name is Rhailosioabhan Taicho Destros, but it's long and kind of annoying, so Rhailo or Rhai works. Okay, so I'm originally from Ixxin'lo, which is a very hard to find place. I doubt you could find it, and while I could find it, it's best we not find it any time soon. Not yet. One day, hopefully, but not yet. Anyway, this place I'm from isn't quite easy to explain so I'll show you."

The miasma of supernatural fog presented images, like a city made of crystal, glass and other reflective surfaces not at all similar to what might associate with a humanoid city. The grand and towering structures rose from floating islets, all cast as rocky solo plots, with no visible roads or bridges closing the plummeting drops between one another. Were one to fall from such great height, they would surely die, as the planet itself seemed to be glazed in treacherous spikes and massive pits created in the crystalline exterior. Aside from the floating megaliths that seemed to house the entirety of the Auroun race, there was little else living on the planet. One of Rhailo's hands directed over a massive orbiting crystal cluster, where the brunt of the civilization compiled. "This was where I lived, on Tor'at. My father worked for the council, and my mother was, uh, my mother. She did mother things. It was in her opinion that I would eventually follow in her foot steps, and take the mantle of homemaker."

The image grew hazy as it dimmed, Rhailo's hands coming to rest in her lap after her plate and glass had been pushed away from her general vicinity. "I guess it made sense at the time, but I didn't want that. An arranged marriage wasn't appealing, having children wasn't what I wanted, and try as I might, I couldn't be Brax. I wanted to be him for a long time..." Her expression seemed pained as she looked away, off at the ship interior, rather than face Demagol as she explained. "Not in a literal sense. More like, hm. Well, if he could do such great and awe inspiring things with his abilities, why did I struggle? We're twins, he and I. Wouldn't one think such a close relationship would entail similarities? I always thought I was justified in wanting what he had - in becoming what he had so easily trained to be. Just, as I grew older, and my failures caught up to me, I knew it couldn't be. I couldn't master the art as he had."

"If anything, I realized I needed to give it up. Not what I knew, but the life I was stuck living, because it only had two options in my foreseeable future. Were I to master the gifts of my people, I would be able to work with the council, and perhaps one day join them. If not, I would be married to someone I barely knew, if I knew them at all... And I just wanted away from Ixxin'lo. Away from my family and from obligations I couldn't follow through with. I lost the battle, but the war proved to be coming up with some other choice for my life, and it took some months of thinking before I chose to leave. I had to beg and plead with Brax for it, because no one leaves Ixxin'lo. My people don't go wandering the galaxy. If anything, we're prisoners on our world to keep those who seek our kind oblivious to the colony's whereabouts." Rhailo was being incredibly candid, and she knew this. The danger that was attached to the information she shared was always looming in the back of her mind.

Yet, there she sat across from Demagol, hopeful he would listen. There was trust between them, even if they had only been together for a few short days. "But, i eventually was granted leave, with Brax as the one who vouched for me. The council trusts him as one of their own, and one day, he will join them to keep the planet cloaked from offworlders... So, to have me leave the planet I was last given permission to live on scared him. For my well being, yes, but also because I have secrets no one outside the Auroun should have. If the S'zari had hired a prober, or something more adept than myself psionically, they could pick me clean of information. Telling you this isn't something I'm supposed to do, but if I'm honest with you, you can be honest with me. That's how it works, isn't it?"

Her field of vision returned to Demagol as a ghost of a smile returned to her pale visage. "Smitten, as you said. I'm smitten with you. Alien or foreign or different as you might be, you're special to me. I can't keep such details secret if I'm meant to stay here, with you, and I'd like you to continue to trust me." Their journey towards Grezik wasn't forgotten, and in light of this, the creature shrugged her shoulders before asking softly, "Would meeting Brax on Grezik work for you? In a neutral place? I doubt you want him to come aboard the ship, and I doubt he would want you aboard his ship... But in the main city itself, we could meet."