Elektra was a connoisseur of finery; she often steeped herself in it to the point it emanated off her olive smooth skin like expensive perfume. She was spoiled, and she didn’t CARE who knew it. It simply meant that she had seen the best there was to offer in this life and acquired good taste as a result. Besides, she had slept on a thin reed mat spread on the floor as a child, so she knew what it was like to skirt by on the BAREST essentials. But seemingly paper thin walls and the constant drone and whir of engines kept her awake. Having been given permission to wander with the parameters set, instead of remaining confined to her personal, dingy quarters, Elektra took to exploration of the ship. Though she expected to find nothing of note in the kitchen, her attention was caught on a jug she found containing alcohol. The bouquet of it was something else, EARTHIER, but the best she was going to get out here on this floating piece of scrap metal.
Her drink demanded her attention, until the other traveler to board entered. She watched him over her winecup, noting that his tension seemed to increase as soon as he was seated at the table . He poured a cup for himself, spilling a few drops in the process.
❝ Do you often drink alone? ❞ The man was ALMOST handsome, and his serious tone implied he found such a predicament shocking. She felt a smile surfacing.
❝ More than I’d like. I get so lonely. ❞
❝ A woman as beautiful as you should never be lonely. ❞
Her dark gaze followed his movements, the curve of her lips never faltering from her face. Elektra chuckled, the sound filled with a touch of coquetry, a touch of pleasure. Most men were lulled by the smooth charm of her accent. ❝ You’re a flatterer. ❞
They bantered back and forth with overt flirtations for a span of time. Elektra observed him closely, noting the sheen of sweat on his brow. She judged him to be no fool, educated and well spoken, but he was nervous in her presence, clearly after something from this exchange. Quick, with an economy of gesture, she raised her drink in a toast, and he mirrored her movement. The moment darkened the second he proclaimed her identity to be a false one, calling her by her real name. She hadn’t given that out. Elektra’s expression didn’t CHANGE, except she stopped feigning subtly to down the rest of her her wine, rising with grace like a shadow from her side of the table. After that the sounds of a fight erupting and shattering of dishes quickly SPREAD, seeping through gaps in Serenity and flowing out from ventilation grates. Her attacker fell back as she swept at him with a powerful and precise kick at the ankles. He groaned, then he lunged at her with a dish.
She shattered the broken cup he attempted to brandish as a weapon with another kick, sending a spray of sparkling beads flying. He charged at her and bodily slammed Elektra onto the floor, aiming a punch at her face. Deflecting the blow, she gripped his fist and used the momentum to flip him over. They rolled around until she ANGLED her elbow in a quick, jabbing motion into his side. She got to her feet, chest rapidly rising and falling. Blows were exchanged, and even though the partner was different, the fight itself was as familiar to her as the steps to an intimate dance. Abruptly, a fistful of Elektra’s long, glossy black hair was grabbed, her opponent rolling it into a kind of rope before he sent her stumbling. She landed on all fours, in a half second preparing to reach for the mug.
