little pistol.

her head tips as she pulls the veil from her hair , letting it rest on her shoulders.  sure , she isn’t from here but that didn’t mean that she was clean cut.  she just took pride in how she looked.  sharp teeth are obvious as she looks at her , cut slit eyes blinking as she runs a hand over her own side , the gown shimmering in the dull light.  she came here to feed , but it looked like she was going to be interrupted instead.

a shame.  she was rather hungry after all , having behaved for the elite.  this person didn’t look much of a morsel but maybe she could be used to get that.  ❝ i don’t know where i am.  what is your price ? ❞   eyelashes at batted.  a picture of innocence.  at least for now.

              SATANA DOESN’T EVEN bat an eye at the other’s appearance. Sentients of all shapes && sizes pass through here, all viable clientele no matter the width or sharpness of their smile. Her own grin flares in the forgotten neon of the lower city levels, ethanol && smoke filming the satisfaction on her face. 

“ See ? I knew reason was within reach.” She hooks the aforementioned weapon back to her hip, swinging her hand out to ‘shake on it’ as humans seem inclined to do — she’s got a brow raised , a spoon full of suspicion seemed a healthy course , though it was muddied & disguised by her otherwise inviting physique. Quite the contradictory build .  

Her boot lifts from where it’d pinned the mark to the ground , and she uses the steel toe to roll him over , incentive for him to move on his own, or get kicked into place. 

“ Where to ?”

     ❝ WHAT CAN I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty face. ❞ She slides the blaster back into the holster wrapped around her thigh. Then goes to meet the handshake halfway. ❝ Call me Shadow. && Mos Eisley, Hutts have a hefty price on his head. ❞ She pulls a pair of cuffs out from one of the many pockets in her jacket, crouching low to hook them around the mark’s wrists.

“ N i c e  ?” She TASTES the word ; tongue rolling , lashing out from between her teeth — a thought , vague & passing ; she lets it flutter by . “ He is wanted for crimes against my kin  — unless your bounty accounts for his soul being torn from his flesh , I am disinclined to care.” The blaster , while noted , would only provoke her —- agitation set against her teeth, grinding , her palm settles neatly against the weapon hanging from her hip . 

“ Perhaps a trade . You can turn him in, get your bounty , and I will steal him back and kill him .”

               IF ONLY ALL her competition was this amiable, && this inclined to promiscuity. But hell, there is something terrifying about seeing a half-naked woman running full speed at you with a weapon in her hands. Satana would know. She’s been on both ends of the weapon. 

     ❝ AYE MAMI, YOU look dangerous. ❞ She holds her blaster up at a relaxed angle, not quite aiming. ❝ I like that. But I’m afraid the sleemo under your boot is my bounty. ❞ She twirls the blaster now, smiling, smiling. ❝ So are you gonna’ play nice? Or are we going to have to play dirty? ❞

                 ❛      JUST   PASSIN’   THROUGH   ,      ❜                 The   corners   of   her   mouth   curve   up   in   a   smile   around   the   rim   of   her   glass   ,   eyes   flickering   towards   the   stranger   ,                  ❛      Sure   you   wanna   do   that   ?      I   have   expensive   tastes   ,      ❜                 A   LIE   ,   of   course   ,   the   drink   in   her   hand   was   cheap   enough   to   be   on   par   with   the   swill   she   used   to   drink   with   her   squad   -   mates   .      Still   ,   if   this   new   companion   was   OFFERING   ,   she   wasn’t   going   to   waste   it   .

               SATANA FLIPS TWO fingers towards the bartender, who bares a toothy smile of acknowledgement in their direction. ❝ Well, it’s lucky for you that I just got off work. So I’ve got some credits to burn. ❞ The tender slides her a shot of something neon green that smells distinctly of licorice. She throws it back && revels in the trail of fire it tracks down her throat. ❝ I’m Shadow. ❞

     ❝ HEY, YOU LOOK like someone who’s got a hold on local business dealings. Who can I trust not to shank me for credits if I want to get my hands on a new stabilizing coil? ❞ She shifts, eyes darting to every clocked angle. It’s the expression of someone who’s expecting to be followed. Or found.

     ❝ HEY, DON’T TAKE this the wrong way or nothing, but you look a little too clean-cut to be hanging around here. You lost? ❞ She pats her sidearm, shiny scar tissue flickering from across her knuckles. ❝ I can keep you safe for the evening. For a price. ❞

     ❝ HEY MIJA, YOU seen this man around here? ❞ A rotating holopic of Chiss dressed in an Imperial uniform sprouts from the center of her palm. ❝ I got a package I gotta— wait. You’re—- ❞ Recognition lights a spark in Satana’s eyes. ❝ Princesa. ❞ She doesn’t go as far as to bow, but inclines her head respectfully. ❝ I’m a refugee from Alderaan. We thought you were dead. ❞

     ❝ I’VE ALWAYS LOVED me a woman with blood in her teeth. ❞ She stoops low, offering the other a calloused hand to her feet. ❝ You okay, Lobita? That looked like a nasty spill. ❞

     ❝ I THINK I would remember seeing a face like yours around cantina like this. New on planet or just dropping by? Oh, && I’m paying for that drink in your hands. ❞ Smooth as stalking nexu she sidles up to the other; taking the stool besides them without a hint of hesitation. 

     ❝ E CHU TA— ! ❞ She spits, force pike activating with a vespine hum. ❝ This is my bounty, sleemo. Get your fancy light sword outta’ my face before I ram it down your throat. ❞

A LOW HUM, dulcet & fluttering pulls through her heart, past her ribs & curls a crescent on her lips.   ❛   kisses & compliments only get you so far —— i programmed that burner COMM for you to actually use.  ❜

     ❛                            an ‘ i’m not dead ’ would have been nice.  ❜

               CALLUSED FINGERS ITCHY for intimacy skim at each of her sides. ❝ Mmm. && I was goin’ to until I shot it. Accidentally. ❞ Technology has a way of not wanting to work with Satana— one of the reasons she prefers customized blasters several generations from the shelves. Less buttons.