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 Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'

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Murriel

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Posts : 50
Experience : 240
Join date : 2017-12-19
Age : 45
Location : Georgia

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PostSubject: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Tue 19 Dec - 16:18






- Love is for Poets - Part One -




Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm on the outskirts….


“Tell me a story”, Cora leaned back in the rocking chair and took a sip of the iced tea she held in one hand. Lazily she flopped back and allowed her gaze to fall on Murriel, just as lazily as her body flopping down. Looking over, Murriel smiled at the Chiss, who looked so out of place sitting on the porch sipping tea next to her. She looked up and out toward the fields of crops swaying in the breeze. At the the other girls who were busy either helping Marstel or milling about with various tasks. They made a motley crew, former dancers, Soldiers, assassins. The lot of them all stuck out like sore thumbs on the landscape. Not in a million lifetimes did she ever expect to find herself on a farm. But with the way things were, losing her club; suddenly finding herself homeless, she was grateful. Not that she would ever say that out loud; Murriel had a reputation to uphold.

The Zeltron smiled back at Cora, lifting her own glass to take a sip of the excellent tea Marstel made for them. It was a day old, but it took that long to steep the tea bags in the sunlight, in a huge jar of water. “You wanna story?” Murriel closed her eyes in the glare of the sun and turned her head back forward. “Ok, I’ll give ya one….”

--

Zeltros, Helios Campa; Beach Facility #2387….eight years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire.


Alien palms swayed in the breeze, the orange sun giving the beach and the structures around it a soft passionate glow. Not unlike any other day, the wind carried the sweet smell of the jungle and the people with it across the beachhead. Laying on a towel, Murriel looked up and glanced at the setting Sun. She had been at it all day, tanning was never easy; not for a Zeltron. Their pinkish skin only seemed to get darker, if at all. The ultraviolet rays of the Sun filtered by the twin moons so close to their atmosphere. It also affected the tide, which never seemed to come in. One moon always close, even as the other lingered away to bring on the night.

“We better get going if we are going to make that show.” A gambling man, the trader stood over Murriel; his feet between her shoulders as she tilted the sunglasses up so she could look at him plainly. She smiled brightly and winked. He had come to Zeltros on regular visits. She knew him as ‘Garreth’, never bothering to get a last name or learn too much about him. Talk of life always led to talk of work or to ‘business’. Something Murriel or most Zeltrons had very little interest in anyway.

“You’re not interested in tha show, I think…” She watched his eyes graze over her body. Only bikini bottoms covered the most ‘vital’ part of her. There was no need for a bikini top. No female wore them, Zeltrons were never short of modesty when it came to their bodies, or anyone else’s body for that matter. “…more likely…” Murriel stood shaking off the sand slightly as she got up close and personal to the trader, “…you are interested in gambling.”

“It’s what I do, sweetie. I’m a ‘sportin’ man, games are my busines—” Murriel quickly put a finger to his lips and continued to smile.

“The ‘B’ word…” She purred, “…let’s not use the ‘B’ word. Talk of business always bores me.” Talk of work could very easily get a fine from a passing Lawgiver. The only Zeltrons who truly ‘worked’ on the planet. Administrators that oversaw all life on the Pleasure Planet. Ensuring everyone was having a good time was their ‘business’. Talk of work or anything related to that could very easily get one penalized.

“As you wish.” Garreth bowed slightly as the two made their way off the beach. Murriel stretched her arm around his waist and snuggled him. She didn’t care where he was from, what he did. His life in general didn’t interest her. When he came to Zeltros, she was all his. It had been that way since the day they met in the Casino. A strange ‘bond’ developed between them. He lavished her with gifts, she became his ‘girl’ for the time he was on the planet. And the more time they spent together the more gifts he lavished.

There was a curiosity within Murriel, unlike other Zeltrons. It got stronger the more she felt from him. Their bond getting deeper and the emotion she could sense stronger, she began to wonder where it was he actually went when he wasn’t on Zeltros. Several times he mentioned exotic places like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Murriel never bothered to look them up, just imagining what they would be like in her mind. A fondness for adventure, especially with someone they were fond of was a favorite Zeltron diversion. Unfortunately, that’s how they viewed it; as only a diversion.

Taking her arm from around his waist, she slipped it under his arm and squeezed. Garreth looked down at her and winked again. As they reached the speeder, Murriel purposefully dropped her towel, stretching slow and slowly to pick it up as she smiled. “We absolutely must get clean before we get to the club…” her smile infectious, she could sense his intent as well as his eyes. It was in no small part to the pheromones she exuded in his presence. “…we may get ‘dirty’ again once we reach your room. We definitely won’t make the show…”

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm….


“Wait! That’s the guy?!?!” Cora sat up quickly almost spilling her drink. Murriel told various bits and pieces of her story to all the girls from time to time, but never the complete tale. She liked to keep things mysterious on purpose. A little of the Imperial accent left Cora as she exclaimed, Murriel smiling simply as she took another sip of the drink and released a sigh.

“Do you want tha story or dontcha?!?”

Sitting back Cora kept her head and eyes on Murriel, thoroughly enthralled now that Murriel was giving up secrets. Something else she rarely did, especially since all of them were in the secret ‘selling’ business. “Ok, so what happened?!? I mean, this is THE guy. I’m assuming you followed him to Nar Shaddaa and—”

“Who’s telling this, you 'r me?!?” Murriel questioned playfully. She smiled to herself and began to rock in the chair slowly. “You know way too much about me….”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Star Cluster Casino….seven and a half years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire


It smelled. That was the one thing Murriel couldn’t get past. Everything had a distinct pungent odor to it. Behind all of the bright lights and glitter, there was always that smell. It came from decadence, Murriel likened it to trying to make a farm animal smell good by dousing it with perfume. Things still stank. Beside the smell, Murriel had to get used to the feelings which seemed to bombard her at every turn. Having never left Zeltros and being in a state of constant bliss; most of the time, the people of Zeltros did everything in their power to provide an environment which produced pleasurable feelings. As Empaths, negative feelings had ill effects on all of them. Another reason talk of work and life, which often led to negativity in one way or another, were outlawed by the government.

The first week, Murriel found herself in a constant state sickness. Greed, led to more negative feelings. It begot violence, which spawned from fear and hatred. Those were the most powerful. Garreth’s whole demeanor seemed to change once they arrived. She was no longer just the girl who hung off his arm, now she had become more of a distraction. And his attention went to other matters: Business. Nar Shaddaa was all about business, even in the pursuit of pleasurable activity. That activity itself was business to the Hutts. If she was going to survive this ‘adventure’ she needed to find a balance, a way to block out some of the negativity. Her body was in a state of flux as her pheromones worked overtime to compensate for all of the terrible things going on around her.

Unfortunately, it would only be a week. Waiting patiently in their room at the Star Cluster, she watched the time tick away. Garreth was only supposed to be gone for a little over an hour. As she watched the chrono one turned to two, which quickly turned to four. ‘Business, must have kept him’ she told herself. Almost incapable of worry, Murriel was dealing with concern. This was his adventure, she was just along for the ride. But as the knock on the door forebode a warning to her, she could feel the essence of those on the other side about to bring her part of the adventure to an end.

Wearing strange armor, two guards entered after Murriel politely keyed the entry to allow them inside. They pushed her aside as if she wasn’t even there. They began tossing the room apart, searching for something. She backed up, tied up the robe she wore and watched them, never asking questions. What she could tell from their demeanor, they were not interested in answering anyway. That sick feeling began to creep over her as their eyes turned to her, not finding what they were looking for.

The gruffest and meanest of the pair, what seemed like a large human behind the armor and skins he wore stepped forward and grabbed her by both her arms snatching her toward him. Like Nar Shaddaa itself, the Hutt Cartel Guard smelled.

“Garreth…you seen ‘em? We know he was here…” Murriel shook her head. She tried to smile, but was overcome with fear. Not just her own, but the angst she could sense from the two guards. The guard tossed her away and lifted his rifle toward her. Murriel bent over, her stomach and abdomen now shocking with the sharpest of pain. The guard was actually going to kill her. The other guard, a large pig looking creature; who Murriel would later find out was called a ‘Gamorrean’, quickly put his large green hand on the rifle and lowered it for his partner abruptly. It squealed something and shook it’s head. “Why not?!?! We need to send a message!!” The Gamorrean squealed again. Reaching down, the human snatched Murriel back up and smiled viciously. “Yea…that’s a better idea.”

“W-where are you taking me?!?!”

“Oh…you’ll love it.” The guard sneered, laughter following them out as both guards and Murriel left the casino hotel headed toward the launch and destinations unknown.

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm….


Cora laughed and nearly spit up at the last part of the story. Murriel sneered playfully. “What?!?! I swear…I thought those two were going to kill me?!?”

No…no, it’s just hard for me to see you as this helpless ‘thing’ that was dragged from the hotel. I mean, Murriel…c’mon, it’s kind of far-fetched. I do believe you are pulling my proverbial leg as it were, you have never been helpless…” Cora took a quick sip of the tea, now her whole body as well as the chair were angled toward Murriel. “Ok so he left, or died…or whatever. You never found out??”

“Nope.”

Scoffing, Cora frowned. “Better for him, I suppose. If it had been me, he certainly would have desired death once I found him.”

Laughing, Murriel looked over at her compatriot and shook her head. “Tha’ was the last thing on my mind, Cora. I mean…here I am, strange place, don’t know nobody. I felt like I was gonna die at any minute, that they were just using me to get to Garreth or whatever. Maybe as payment for whatever it was he did. Even today, I don’t really know; but then again I’ve never asked either.”

“I don’t believe I’ve heard this part. You met the Hutt right?”

“That’s where they took me, yes.” Murriel lost the smile a moment, but it turned into a strange pleasurable look as she closed her eyes softly. “I was lucky. It ‘may’ have had something to do with my being a Zeltron, but the Hutt was very generous.”

“Ewww!!” Cora squealed, turning her rocking chair slightly away. “I’m not sure I wish this part of the story told.”

Murriel smiled and continued to rock in the chair, the sun cresting high as it reached noon time on the farm. She squinted in the sunlight, to Cora it almost looked like she was winking at her. “I wasn’t always this way, Cora…having to learn to survive does things to a person. I was very innocent of the galaxy back then.” She stopped rocking and looked out past the crops, still swaying in the breeze. “Very…innocent…”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Red Light Sector….seven and a half years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire


Damrosch the Hutt came from one of the five ruling families of the Hutt Cartel. He wasn’t a cousin or some distant relative, he was one of the ‘big’ Hutts. The Hutt kept ‘court’ at various places around Nar Shaddaa, to say it was a Hutt moon, really meant it was HIS moon. Even with all of the internal strife Murriel was dealing with, all of the negativity she was feeling she couldn’t help but look around in wonder at all of the various creatures which surrounded the Hutt, who was placed prominently on a Dais at the center of the large spacious area. On a chain, he held several slaves which lay lazily in front of him.

The guards shoved Murriel into line. A long line of people waiting to see the Hutt for one reason or another. Some of those reasons, not good. As like Murriel, several of the people in line had guards with them. She got up off the ground, dusted herself off and adjusted her robe in time to see the Hutt gesture at the man who was kneeling in front of him. Promptly the guards lifted the kneeling man off the ground and shot him. The sound of blaster fire only muffled the laugh from the Hutt as the creature looked down the line summoning the next to come forward. Getting shoved again, Murriel felt the lump in her throat form after watching the last person die right in front of her. She buried her feelings deep and could feel the sweat as well as the pheromonic essence begin to work overtime due to her nervousness. It was such a kaleidoscope of feelings, she didn’t know really what to do; except wait. Perhaps her fate was already sealed, she didn’t know yet as the guards continued to watch her with longing in their eyes.

As far as Zeltrons went, Murriel was not a bad looking female. With natural greenish-pink hair, her skin tone matched the natural highlights in her locks. Her skin was flawless, when she wasn’t sweating; which she found herself doing a lot at the time. Well-proportioned, unlike other Zeltrons she took pleasure in working out. If for no other reason than to just look good naked, which was another of her favorite past-times; being naked on the beach often enough that her wardrobe was slight. Packing up and leaving home was not a big deal, she didn’t have much to pack; though Garreth bought her all sorts of fancy clothes to adorn herself in, she rarely wore them unless instructed to. For the first time, in a long time, she found herself wishing she had some of those clothes in that moment. Adjusting the robe again, she swallowed the lump in her throat down and stared straight ahead, trying desperately to block out the bombardment of emotions she felt from all of those various creatures around her.

Before long, the line moved well enough along that Murriel found herself next. Already she could feel the Hutt’s eyes upon her, even though the creature was still dealing with the individual that came before her in line. She could sense an anxiousness in the Hutt to ‘hurry’ along, just to get to her. That gave her another lump, but then she felt a curiousness, playful and humorous from the large slug-like creature. That feeling made her more at ease. On Zeltros, she had seen Hutts before, but never approached one. They were typically big spenders who stayed only at the most lavish of resorts and paid for the most decadent delights on Zeltros. As a beachcomber, Murriel never spent much time in places other than the beach, unless she was with Garreth. It wasn’t that she loved the guy, she had no loyalty to him. But there was a connection. Murriel wasn’t sure what love was, if it came and hit her, she wouldn’t know it. Those thoughts rolled around her mind as the Hutt signaled for her, the guards pushing her forward. She fell to her knees, on all fours, looking up to see the large Hutt staring back down at her. One of the guards approached, bowing first. It was the Gamorrean. Stepping up on the Dias, he leaned in and whispered to his master. Murriel watched the Hutt's eyes get narrow and then wide as he looked back down to Murriel again.

“Lo-tee Ameye!!”

<”My Master, wishes you to stand”> A droid Murriel hadn’t noticed before stood behind the Hutt and peeked out once the creature addressed Murriel directly. After a few other utterances that Murriel didn’t understand, the droid chimed in again. <”The ground is no place for such a flower. Flowers are meant to be displayed proudly”>

As Murriel stood, she smiled shyly at the Hutt. “Thank you, that’s quite a compliment coming from one such as yourself.” She wasn’t sure exactly how to address the Hutt and it showed as the creature looked around, uttering something else and narrowing it’s eyes at Murriel once again.

<”My Master wishes to know what you meant by that”>

There were points in ones life, where everyone reaches a crossroad. One way is the right way and the other; wrong. Murriel felt that from the Hutt, that somehow she had offended him in some way. Realizing her very life may be on the line, she bowed lowly and kept the same sultry smile as she raised back up, allowing purposefully for her robe to open up a little. She watched and felt the eyes of the creature soften a bit as she began to exercise a little of her essence, which was already seeping off of her.

“I meant no disrespect.” Murriel looked around and seemed to take in the room with all of the various species of creatures among them. She glanced down at the slaves in chains, wondering if that would be her fate. She had no intention of ending up that way. “I only meant that with such a variety of species around you, that you would pay me any attention at all, is humbling.”

Those who knew Hutts and could distinguish their facial traits could tell the creature softened at her words. Hutts were very susceptible to flattery, they loved to have their egos stroked quite frequently. Signaling, the Hutt gestured to the guards again, who this time very gently pushed Murriel closer after he uttered a few more phrases.

<”My Master wishes to know who you are? And may I add, it is quite an honor for you to be asked your name. This is not something my Master does lightly.”>

As Murriel stepped up on the Dais, she leaned in and spoke to the Hutt in the same place she saw the guard speak, surmising that it was some kind of earhole. She blew lightly first into the opening, allowing some of her essence to lead the way before speaking softly and in the sweetest voice she could muster.

“Murriel…my name is, Murriel.”
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Murriel

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Posts : 50
Experience : 240
Join date : 2017-12-19
Age : 45
Location : Georgia

Character Sheet
Health Points:
30/30  (30/30)
Shield Points:
0/0  (0/0)
Armor Percentage:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Wed 20 Dec - 18:44

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm….on the outskirts….


“Wait!” Cora exclaimed, “…you didn’t…” The question was obvious, Cora’s red glowing Chiss eyes wide with wonder. Murriel shrugged in response, a sly smile on her face.

“What you think you know about Hutts, let me tell you…you don’t.” Murriel finally said. “It’s not all about ‘that’ Cora. There are other pleasurable activities that Hutts enjoy. Sometimes, from time to time…I would just talk to him. Normally. You would be surprised at how powerful creatures respond to someone just talking to them, no one does that with someone they think will kill them at the slightest word.” Murriel smiled again and took another sip of the tea, smacking her darkly painted lips. “I got past the whole ‘death’ thing…” Murriel waved off the word with a slight brush of her hand. “I figured if he was gonna kill me, he was just gonna do it and nothin’ I could say or do was gonna change that. So…I just became friends with him.”

“Friends with a Hutt, who would have believed it possible…”

There was a long silence as Cora absorbed what Murriel said. The Zeltron continued to rock, Cora wasn’t going to push Murriel into telling any more of the story if she didn’t want to. After a moment, Murriel looked over and touched Cora on the arm.

“He gave me a job, granted…it wasn’t what I wanted. You know me, I despise ‘work’.” Murriel smiled wickedly, “For a time, I had to trick myself into believing that what I was doing, was not work. That it was what I ‘wanted’ to be doin’ so I wouldn’t be so averse to doing it.”

“Ah…so this is where the dancing came in?”

Nodding, Murriel gave a sly wink. “I’m a quick learner. Now, it’s like second nature to me.” Murriel leaned over toward Cora, “They weren’t ready for what I brought to the stage…”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Red Light District; Club Ufora…seven years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire



Odd jobs bothered Murriel, but in order to survive she did them. All of it led to a friendship with the Hutt that made others jealous. For the first few months, she served as personal assistant and concubine to the Hutt. Some of it was distasteful, but she didn’t mind it so much. In return, not only was Murriel surviving she was thriving. The Hutt lavished his assistant with gifts and trinkets. Not completely free, but certainly not a slave; Murriel was told by some of the others that she was working off Garreth’s debt to the Hutt. But Murriel, never saw it that way. She was picking up the language, the sickness from being surrounded by negative feelings was under control and she was learning to use her natural abilities to her advantage, especially with the Hutt. Not long after she was into her service under him, she realized that he could speak the basic language. The Hutt was quite intelligent as Murriel came to find out, a mathematical mastermind that controlled entire sectors for his particular part of the Five Families.

Credits were power as Murriel was beginning to learn. Outside of Zeltros, credits meant something. Back home, she never wanted for anything; the government taking care of its own citizens as long as they abided by the rules and helped keep the pleasure world; ‘pleasurable’. Outside those confines, everyone else in the galaxy worked off credits. Murriel began to equate the two things. Credits meant pleasure and with them the galaxy was all yours to do with what you will.  

They talked quite often, but unlike others, Murriel never asked for anything. She simply gave. The Hutt respected that.

“I want to set you up on your own. I think you’ve earned it.” The Hutt spoke in his gruff voice once Murriel shut the door to his chambers. The only time he spoke in basic was in complete privacy. Murriel turned back and smiled. The red Shimersilk dress she wore flowing around her with the turn and flourish. Putting a hand to her chest, Murriel did what passed as a blush and bowed her head reverently.

“I’m - I don’t know what to say Damrosch. I’m speechless…” She smiled brightly for him.

“You are never speechless.” The Hutt laughed loudly, “And don’t be so quick to thank me. It’s not much, but it takes you out of my service.” The Hutt watched as Murriel looked down. She could sense a pang of regret in the creature who quickly added, “…but, not out of my vision. You will never be out of my sight. Though I will watch out for you, I believe in people making it on their own. This is your chance, I will make it a good start for you and someone of your abilities. You’ve learned much, you know how the galaxy works now and what you must do to survive it. Not many of your kind can say that.” Murriel looked up and smiled weakly. “You will make it Murriel, I know you will because I have seen it already. You are too smart not to survive.”

Picking up a lizard which rested next to him, Murriel though Damrosch was going to eat it like he did so many other creatures he kept in bowls next to him. Instead, he looked at her and smiled, stroking one of his three fingers over it’s surface. The skin of the lizard changed almost immediately as the Hutt touched it, matching his own brown pigment. “You are like this lizard. Adapting, changing to meet the needs of the world around it. But you must be careful, be ever changing…” The Hutt quickly tossed the creature in it’s mouth. Murriel didn’t react to the crunch or the slurping sound of the lizard being devoured. She had grown used to that in the Hutt’s presence. “…or you will be devoured by those who wish to take advantage of you.”

--

Owned by a duo of Nikto and Human, Club Ufora held a prime spot in the Red Light for a reason. They were patrons of Damrosch and under his protection. Entering the club, Murriel took her bag off her shoulder and let it drop to the floor, looking around. The Nikto, a male creature named ‘Brosch’ came from around the bar, he smiled lightly and looked Murriel up and down before placing his hands on both hips.

“So you’re the Zeltron…heard ‘a you. Lots ‘a folks talking about Damrosch’s little plaything.”

A first reaction was to jump to anger, having spent much time in the presence of the Hutt and those around the Hutt who were jealous, she was used to the feeling of jealousy. It was ever present as she entered and the few eyes in the club on her. Murriel cocked a hip out, pursing her lips at the Nikto. “Do you really want to speak to me like that?” She was using her connection, throwing the Hutt’s name around without using it. Her smile, vicious as she willed herself to get through using something negative. It made her less sick than it used to, the more she used something aggressive. The Nikto jerked backward, not used to having someone in his employ speak to him that way. And Murriel had just arrived.

“Well I-“ the creature was flustered, “-I never—” he stammered, anger rising within him as his human partner jumped over the counter, laying a hand on the other man’s shoulder smiling Murriel’s direction.

“What my scaly friend is trying to say is—Welcome to the Ufora. We heard you were coming and cleaned out a booth in the dressing room.” The human, much more diplomatic looked Murriel up and down like she was a piece of meat, the Zeltron had them off balance and she knew it. Murriel decided to press.

“I’ve heard of this place, even ventured in here a time or two while I was working for Damrosch.” Running a finger along the bar counter she finally leaned her back against the bar. Getting more comfortable by the moment she smiled sweetly. “I’ve had some ideas, wanna hear ‘em?”

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…



“Ok…stop.” Cora laughed, “You mean to tell me that as soon as you arrived, you name-dropped?!?! That’s pretty bold.”

“I didn’t name drop, per se…they knew where I was coming from and who sent me. I didn’t HAVE to use his name. But it gave me street-cred right out of the gate. They knew he was watching me and in turn watchin’ them…”

“But you didn’t know how to dance. You walked in, acted like you owned the place, but had nothing to offer.”

Murriel smiled slyly, “They didn’t know that.”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Red Light District; Club Ufora…seven years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire



It was everything she could do to keep water down. Having switched to a high-grade toxic alcohol to dull her senses, Murriel had to drink quite a bit to get numb. Outside the door, she could hear the crowd. The dancer that went out before her, a Twi’lek she met who was similarly stranded in Nar due to some accounting error she made, was just returning from her set. She looked at Murriel sympathetically.

“You’re up sweetie…remember what I said, eyes forward, don’t make eye contact with the crowd. Especially those guys in the front row. You do that, you’re done for.”

Nervously, Murriel stood. She reached down and took another drink of the brandy, finishing it off. Taking a last glance in the mirror, she looked at herself. Thigh high boots, stilettos. A slight leatheris top with three snaps that barely contained her. Something leatheris for panties, that crawled up her backside. She shook her head, it wasn’t her. Maybe if she was going out on the town, but not onto a stage to present herself. The clothes didn’t match the way she felt and she felt unnatural. Not just because she was about to take the stage for the first time, but because of how she was about to take the stage.

As she delayed, the crowd got louder due to no dancer coming forth. Busting in the dressing room the Nikto glared at her.

“Murriel!!! Get your ass out there!! We are gonna have a riot…we got mando’s in from the mining moon!!!”

Still staring at her, she took control of herself and smiled waving the owner off. “Hold your nerf!! Go out and lower the lights to almost off.” Without warning she started taking what little clothes she had on, off. The Nikto’s eyes got wide.

“W-what are you doing?!?!”

“I’m getting’ naked, you mind?!?”

“N-naked?!? But…” He didn’t understand, it was a strip. Dancers didn’t go out naked, they came off the stage that way. Murriel could feel his confusion, she sat down and unzipped the boots.

“Look, just do what I say. I promise you won’t be sorry…ok?”

Scoffing, the Nikto left the room. The other dancers watching Murriel curiously as she made eye contact with her new Twi’lek friend, who winked her direction.

“Knock ‘em dead, baby…”

--

“NOW…coming to the stage for her Red Light debut. All. The. Way. From Zeltos…the Zeltron you wont forget…MAGIC!!!”

She didn’t tell the announcer to say that, but she went with it. The drifters hanging down over the door sparkled slightly as she parted them in the low light, the crowd getting quieter at the movement. In bare feet, she made no sound as she approached, laying one hand on the solid brass pole, slowly wrapping her fingers around it. The timing couldn’t have been better; lights and music started at once. The Nikto tired of being in the dark, he hit the lights just as the sound guy started up the base heavy song.

Launching herself in the air, Murriel grabbed the pole with her other hand and twirled around. She flipped from one vertical position to her feet above her, wrapping ankles around the pole and releasing her hands. Naked as the day she was born and on the first notes of the song; her arms wide, she broke the first rule she was told. Having already broke another rule by going out on stage completely bare. Locking eyes with all of the Mandalorians who were packed in on the first row.

At first, she thought she hade a mistake. There was no sound, other than the music. Hanging upside down, her arms opened to the crowd and making eye contact; all she could see were smiles and wide eyes. It seemed like an eternity of silence as she began to slide down. Reaching up she grabbed the pole and flung her legs out behind her, righting herself and landing on her feet before ending in a split on stage. Her eyes never leaving the men in the front row.

Coins and vouchers flew toward the stage as the entire club erupted in screams and applause. Never before had anyone done what Murriel had in breaking all of the rules. And the crowd loved it. As the Nikto watched and shook his head in disgust, in the back of his mind he knew it was the beginning of the end of what was established for dancing in his club. A star had been born and her name, was Murriel.
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Murriel

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Posts : 50
Experience : 240
Join date : 2017-12-19
Age : 45
Location : Georgia

Character Sheet
Health Points:
30/30  (30/30)
Shield Points:
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Armor Percentage:
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PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Thu 21 Dec - 2:04

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…



“Things kinda went downhill from there” Murriel laughed sarcastically. “It wasn’t long after that, some friends an’ I was out an’ about…there was this tattoo parlor next door…”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Red Light District...six and one-half years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire



Obsession was not something Murriel was familiar with. At least as far as she was concerned. People on the outside, looking in, saw Murriel as a very compulsive and…obsessive person. There were things she was fascinated with. People in particular. She had a real thing for unusual aliens. Like she had to ‘try’ them. First, it was Mandalorians, at that time it still was. Second, it was ‘tech guys’ or ‘slicers’. All the time, it was something or someone new.

Something else that was new was her spending time with the organ harvester gangs, which led to black market doctors. She showed up back at the club with her breasts augmented. Larger, more perfect. She was in the process of enhancing herself, always looking for an edge or a new gimmick for her show. The girls warned her about some of the things and people she was doing. Murriel would smile and brush it off. Nothing had happened so far. Then again, Murriel never made a huge deal about her natural ability or affinity for getting out of trouble. If things got tight or tension raised in certain situations, Murriel would just ‘Mez’ them or use her pheromones to get herself out of it. More than one occasion someone would jump the stage and try to grab her. She was learning to fight, gaining skills from the people she was hanging out with. Other dancers would fight them off or rely on the bouncers to do their jobs, but never Murriel. She would ‘Mez’ the ones trying to grab her. They would leave Club Ufora believing they had the times of their lives and all of it was in a private location with Murriel. As far as the person coming under Murriel’s spell could remember. Though Murriel was aggressive herself, she abhorred aggressive people for the most part. Aggression usually accompanied ill thought or intent, something Murriel could feel from across the room.

Fascinated with her Twi’lek friend, the two of them had become close and Murriel was always jealous of the natural markings that adorned the Twi’leks skin. Zeltons didn’t have any of those. Of course she had seen her friend naked and not just because of walking around the dressing room. As they passed the tattoo parlor, Murriel’s eyebrow raised.

“Ever been in there?”

“No, why would I?!?” The Twi’lek scoffed. Murriel immediately diverted the direction she was headed and walked right in.

The tattoo parlor was small, built into the side of Club Ufora as an add on, though there were no doors that linked the two. The proprietor was an artsy type, offworlder from some other Hutt moon, who had made a deal with Damrosch for protection, he was fleeing some sort trouble he got into with another Hutt somewhere. Rumor had it the price was high and the man had a gambling problem. He was making very little credit off the shop and what he did make, he was spending. Giving the credits right back to the Hutt. To say he was giving almost a hundred percent of what he was earning would have been an understatement.

What struck Murriel the most upon entering was the antiseptic smell of the place. She turned her nose up and looked around. The proprietor, a Devaronian, sat in the center seat, nursing some kind of strange smelling cigarra. He didn’t turn to look who came in, looking up at the ceiling all glassy eyed and lazy. The cigarra was obviously something laced to dull the mind.

“Girrrrls” The horned creature purred, his eyes and his head still not turning toward them. “What can I for ya?”

Stepping right up, her Twi’lek friend hanging back and being apprehensive, Murriel did what she did best. She snatched the Cigarra out of the Devaronian’s hand and took a drag, slow and sultry. Allowing the smoke to ebb up and over her face slowly, she smiled; behind the smile she struggled to maintain her composure, fighting the oncoming cough that was threatening to break her façade.

“That all depends *cough* you put these ‘things’ anywhere?” Murriel asked playfully, gesturing to the holograms which sputtered and floated around the room. Examples of the various artwork the artist provided. Turning toward Murriel, the Devaronian smiled devilishly, noticing that she was having a problem keeping the smoke from his strange cigarra down.

“Yes…” He purred again, taking a moment to look the Zeltron up and down. “Where-ever you wish.” The smile grew more devilish if it was possible. “But…” he sat up never taking his wicked eyes off Murriel. “…the price is high, you may have to part with some of that ‘rain’ you make over at the Ufora.”

“Oh? So you know us?” Giving the proprietor her own version of a wicked look, she stepped back; the Devaronian reaching for the cigarra and Murriel moving back out of reach. She took another drag, it was her first smoke, something she was getting used to with every drag.

They exchanged the ‘look’. It was more for the Devaronian than Murriel, she could feel his intent. There was no reason to ask, ‘What do you want?’ She was in the shop to look, but suddenly she wanted one. Glancing at herself quickly, she decided where she wanted it, something sultry and enhancing. Something that would ‘pop’ everytime she swung around the pole. She ran her hands down both thighs and handed the cigarra back to the Devaronian. Having put enough of her essence on the end of it, she was sure it would have the desired effect.

Placing the cigarra between his lips, it twisted upward in a smile as the creature took a deep long drag of both the substance and Murriel, her pheromones already deeply embedded. She watched as the proprietor seemed to sag a little, his smile got lazier and he fell back against the center seat, leaning on it. Murriel glanced over her shoulder at the Twi’lek who was still watching nervously.

“Betty…” Murriel spoke offhandedly, “…why don’t you, go on without me. I’m going to talk some business with our friend here.”

Turning around the Twi’lek left, behind her the ‘Open’ sign winked off and the lights of the tattoo parlor went out.

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm


“Wait a minute, I knew you were into some weird stuff….but Devaronians?!?!”

“Ever been with one?” Murriel spoke slyly, winking at Cora as she smiled. Taking another sip of the tea she let out another sigh. Cora was still staring at her. “What?!?!”

“You are such a slut” Cora spoke playfully. “How do you do it?!?! I mean I never—”

“You never.” Murriel scoffed, “What about ‘The Train’? You call me a slut, but you totally got busy on the trai—”

“That was different” Cora bit back. “The guy was a famous operative in Imperial circles. A legend, ok? To even be in the same room with him was—”

“This is no different.” Murriel spoke softly. Cora turned away and lowered her gaze, almost sorry that she spoke so harshly, even if it was playful. Murriel was a different breed, practically raised on Nar Shaddaa on the realities of the real galaxy. A harshness Cora never had to face until she was well trained to face them.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. And you were under some extremely ‘different’ circumstances.” Murriel reached over and hit Cora playfully on the arm.

“No need to be sorry, love. It was business…” Murriel winked again, “Now at this point you are probably thinking when those lights went out, I totally kriffed him. I’m not saying I didn't, I totally did, just not then. I started to frequent the tattoo parlor, at first once a week I would get something new. The it became every other day. If I didn’t like what he did, I had it removed and replaced with something else.” Murriel laughed, “My body is in a constant state of change as far as my ‘burns’…” She leaned sideways and lifted the corner of the short skirt she wore. “But this rose and the skulls on my other thigh, they were the first and I have never changed them.” She sat back down and nodded, “What I wanted was information. While he was under my spell I was able to learn everything about what he did as an artist. I also learned how much trouble he was in with the Hutt Cartel. I saw an opportunity and I took it…”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Damrosch's Court – Industrial Sector


The line parted at Damrosch’s gesture, the Zeltron being ushered to the front. Murriel, dressed in a flowing Shimmersilk gown flowed past them, a bright smile on her face as she stood front and center of the Hutt who had done so much for her.

“Mog-un Ahm-a Doo-lee”

Able to speak Huttesse now, Murriel bowed deeply. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.” She winked at the Hutt, who laughed at the gesture.

“Asha walla-wonka, En-doom wanga frol-eh!” The Hutt opened his arms wide, smiling in his way as Murriel jumped up on the dais and tried to wrap her arms around the upper neck of the creature. She stepped back and smiled.

“You are far too kind, I’m sure it’s just as beautiful around here when I’m not around.” Murriel tilted her head and winked at the Hutt, “You should come to the Ufora, see what I’ve done…” The Hutt leaned forward bringing his huge head close to Murriel, his arms wrapped around her form, which looked tiny next to him.

“I’ve seen.” He whispered, venturing to use basic with her, even in public. Speaking lowly so no one could hear. “I have eyes everywhere, flower. You are making quite a name for yourself and I am most proud to see you grasping the concepts of business. It’s why you’re here I think.”

Trying to look hurt, Murriel smiled viciously. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.” She whispered. It made the Hutt scoff playfully.

“Don’t insult me, flower. You and I both know I am repulsive.”

Leaning in, Murriel placed a light kiss on the bottom lip of the Hutt. Its eyes got wide as his tail shuttered and vibrated from the action. “You are my kind of repulsive, Damrosch…” He let out a pleasant sigh as Murriel moved back and sat down on the Dias to look up at him. A bold move, no one was ever allowed on the Hutt Dias other than the Hutt himself. No one other than Murriel. His eyes looked down as he angled his body to get a good view of her, she could feel him drowning in the kiss she just gave him.

“Ask. You know I can deny you nothing when you do that…” Damrosch was aware that Murriel’s kiss carried with it a ‘poison’, but one he was willing to accept because of the way it made him feel. He may not have been ‘mezzed’ like other creatures affected by her pheromones, but he was still feeling the blissful effects of it. She paused, letting a shy smile creep over her features before flipping her hair back and leaning backwards on her hands to look up at him.

“I wanted to ask you about the tattoo parlor next to the Ufora, what is the guy who owns it into you for? How much?”

Damrosch narrowed his eyes and angled backward, his arms coming to his sides as he appraised the question. “Are you here to speak on his behalf?”

Smiling wickedly, Murriel sat up and flopped her hands into her lap. The skirt of the Shimmersilk dress moved with her movements making her look almost ethereal. “Quite the contrary, my mighty Hutt…” She leaned in and ran her hand over the Hutts face, leaning her head and face next to his earhole, “I want it…after you’re done with him…”
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PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Fri 22 Dec - 3:58

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


Giving a placative look, Murriel stopped the story abruptly. Her arms rose up as she appeared to surrender. “Now I know what you’re gonna say? Did my approaching the Hutt have anythin’ ta do with the Devaronian’s ‘little accident’?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” Cora refilled her tea glass and took a sip, her face was also one of concern. Cora had no illusions about the kind of person Murriel was, she had seen it first-hand. That she would have purposely arranged for the tattoo parlor’s former owner to be killed in order for her to take possession of it; not only would that have been more treacherous than Cora ever believed Murriel could be, it also would go against what Murriel said about acquiring the tattoo parlor in the first place.  

This part of the story was well known to all of the girls on the Strike Team. And Murriel always told it the same way, telling them that the former owner died under ‘mysterious’ circumstances. This was the first time anyone ever heard that Murriel approached the Hutt about the shop before he died. Cora frowned disappointingly at Murriel, the Zeltron shaking her head.

“Think what you want Cora, he was a dead man walking.” Murriel pursed her lips, she felt a sharp pain hit her in the side as the thoughts of murder and avarice hit her like a durasteel beam. “I didn’ give him his gambling problem or his drug problem for that matter. I didn’ make him continue to gamble even after he was given a second chance or get so far ‘into it’ with the Hutts that he couldn’t come back. He crossed them, he owed more than he could afford and it cost him.” Murriel looked down at her glass finishing it off before setting the empty down on the table between them. “Did I speed anything up? Maybe. I freely admit that my approaching the Hutt may have prompted Damrosch to call in a marker. But that guy was already dead. He knew what he was getting into with them, I didn’t kill him.”

“But you contributed.” Cora didn’t want to debate the moral implications. All of them were guilty of breaking more than one moral code. Even if the Empire used War and Rules to justify their actions, Cora was no better and she knew it. Even with her sense of Chiss superiority or Imperial perfection that was beaten into her, she knew better. Lifting her chin up, she sighed and gave a resigned look. “Let’s not debate this. None of us have clean hands, we are all guilty for some of the things we’ve done. Some more than others…” She smiled wickedly at the end. “…besides, this detracts from what up till this point has been an epic tale. I do wish you to continue.”

Murriel smirked. Refilling her glass she picked up a lemon and squeezed some juice into the glass. “…things went pretty well after that. I closed the tattoo parlor for a while after Damrosch gave me the deed. I was still dancing pretty heavily at the Ufora. Things were changing and changin’ fast for me. It was during this time I met some really key individuals. Left marks, let me tell ya…”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Club Ufora…five years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire.


Like stockings, Murriel was going through people almost two at a time. When someone would become ‘uninteresting’ she would discard them. A reputation as a real heartbreaker was starting to follow her around. It had both good and bad effects. Good in that those who wanted to try and get her roped into something would also try to ‘tame’ her. For a Zeltron, an impossibility. Bad in that some of the more interesting people or people who didn’t feel like she was worth the trouble would not even waste the time. That had the opposite effect on her. She wanted those people more.

Mandalorians were regulars in the Club. Mostly those were ‘unaligned’ or lacked a clan. The rogues or ronin, Mandos who were referred to as Dar’manda. Murriel couldn’t speak Mando’a. She referred to them as 'Dar’pandas'. Their strength is what attracted her, their aggressiveness. It went against who she was. Murriel disliked aggressive people for the most part, not because of their aggressive natures, but because of all the emotions that sometimes accompanied that aggression. Hate, anger, fear, jealousy; all of it went along with aggression in most cases. It made her feel bad and she certainly couldn’t function in that environment.

A Mandalorian’s aggression was pure, more focused. They had their own code, their own way of life. Aggression came with the belief that they were the best at what they did. A layer of confidence which they all hid behind. Fear, anger; none of the typical negative attitudes were a part of their nature. They had no use for it. It was refined. On stage, Murriel fed off that aggression, a positive aggression that led her to do unimaginable feats as their feelings toward her supercharged her psyche. The first time she went ‘off’ with a Mandalorian, it was a mind-blowing experience. It opened up some new doors for her sexually. She carried the marks from those encounters on her skin for sometimes weeks at a time. And she wore them proudly.

One particular Mando, a young man about her age named; ‘Drogan’ was the newest in a long line of Mandalorians she was ‘seeing’. And that was a polite way to put it. As one other ‘Dar’panda’ charged the stage and tried to grab Murriel, Drogan pulled the larger man back down to the floor. A fight ensued and Murriel watched as the smaller more agile Drogan wiped the floor with the much larger, heavily armored man. Only giving a slight bow toward Murriel, Drogan paid for the damages and left. Murriel followed him out. It started something, a spark which turned into a fire after she saw how very nonchalant he was about the whole affair. Murriel was learning new things about Mandalorians all the time.

“Its not that big a deal really.” The Mandalorian shrugged, “I’d seen that particular Mandalorian before and witnessed his way of dealing with desire. He knows better, they all do…you may not be Mandalorian, but you still deserve fair treatment.”

‘Wow, handsome and humble’, Murriel thought, licking her lips unconsciously as she looked at Drogan a little starry eyed. “Wait, you all don’t know one another?”

That made the young Mandalorian smile. “It’s a culture, a way of life. We know each other through that, but there are a great many of us…so no, we do not know one another like some sort of ‘club’….” He spoke with a hint of an accent, but only slightly. Murriel continued to smile as Drogan looked at her, then looked behind himself the way he was originally heading.

“Uh…I never seen you before, in the club I mean. That other guy, lots of times…but…” Murriel paused and looked up, she smiled shyly. It was a faux smile hiding her true intent as she felt his own energy rising. Reaching out she grabbed his hand, holding it close to her. His eyes glassed over as she watched him sag slightly, the stern demeanor melted as he smiled.

“Um…y-you’re beautiful. You know that?”

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


Cora was already shaking her head. “You ‘mezzed’ him.” She chuckled, “I can’t believe you Mezzed him.”

“I didn’t ‘hurt’ him.” Murriel smiled wickedly, winking. “And I didn’t mez him all the time, just at first. I needed to break through that Mandalorian veneer and get to the man inside. The man I could sense ‘hiding’ underneath.”

“But you Mezzed him, it wasn’t real love.”

“Love?!?!” Murriel sat up quickly almost spilling her drink, “Who said anything about love, Cora. It was about fun and….what I could get.”

“Pfft,” Cora scoffed, “You liked him, you were totally into him.”

Sitting back Murriel smiled pleasantly. Finally shrugging at Cora’s revelation. “I liked him. More than the others. He was fun, we had a great time with one another and we stayed together longer than I ever stayed with anyone else; if you had seen us you would almost think it was something exclusive.” Shortly before Cora could ask it, Murriel frowned slightly. “I hated when he died. It reminded me of the sickness I felt when I first arrived on Nar, only it wasn’t a sickness I acquired from feeling all the terrible things around me. It was a sickness I created.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between them. Murriel sat up slightly and raised her leg, pulling up the short skirt to reveal the bottom of one cheek. Emblazoned on the cheek was the Mythosaur symbol of the Mandalorian Culture. She smiled weakly after showing it to Cora. “I learned a lot from him, it was the beginning of my education into combat and personal survival; other than using my abilities. This was a bet, I lost and had to tattoo a Mandalorian symbol on my buttocks to show I was ‘his’. I planned on having it removed, but after her died…” Murriel lost the smile and fell silent another moment, looking down. “….after he died, I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. I learned more than I bargained for with him. In his death, he taught me the most important lesson of all. He was the last man I ever got that close to.” Murriel nodded to herself in resignation. “That started me back down my road of seeing others to get stronger and acquire what I needed to break free. I knew I couldn’t stay in Nar forever, I opened the tattoo shop full time and stopped dancing almost all together, maybe once a week. I was practically running that club anyway, I was just running it from next door now.”

--

Nar Shaddaa, Murriel’s Red Light Ink….four and one half years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…


With a ferocity known only to the greatest of Hutt masterminds, Murriel set out to build her small empire. Unlike a Hutt though, Murriel had no endgame, she had no idea where it would take her. She just knew she needed the capital to do whatever it was she would eventually want to do. The Zeltron in her would not work hard enough to do it, not with so much distraction around.

She started dating both males and females, using people to get what she wanted. Never again did she let anyone get as close as Drogan did, Murriel had learned that lesson and didn’t want to feel that pain again. He died on one of his ‘missions’, working for some client or another who sent the Mandalorian into impossible odds. Something the Mandalorians never back down from. During their time together, her eyes were opened even farther into the dangers of the outside universe. Nar had become like Zeltros in a way. Like Damrosch said, Murriel was a chameleon. She had made another protective bubble on Nar and blended in to survive. But to get out, she would need other resources, other avenues of power and definitely more personal skill.

One of the types of people she started gravitating toward were government representatives or people with access to an enormous power base. Having no knowledge of the greater universe there were many missteps.

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


“So, in walks this ‘Uniform’.” Murriel smiled wickedly, “I am a sucker for anyone in uniform…”

--


Nar Shaddaa, Murriel’s Red Light Ink…two years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…


Lying in bed next to him, Murriel curled a leg over his form and snuggled close. There was a slight laugh from the Soldier as he reached over running his fingers down her arm.

“You are insatiable. I’ve never been to Zeltros, but if I ever decide to go…I’m going to need to get cybernetic implants first.”

“Mmmm…” Murriel reached down under the sheet grabbing him. “I think we do pretty good without them.” He laughed again, turning his eyes toward her slightly.

“Have you given anymore thought to what I asked you about?”

Murriel sat up. Business, it always broke the mood. She curled the sheet up and around herself as she brought her knees up to wrap her arms around them. “And you say…I could get back to the beach. A private beach, with a condo all my own?”

“Yes.” The Republic Officer purred, his hand reaching out to stroke the bare back in front of him. “The Republic will provide all of it.”

Murriel shook her head, “They must be powerful to give even the most low-level person in their employ their own beach.” It was the officer’s turn to sit up. He was a professional liar, it’s why he was picked for that particular job in the Republic. It was also why Murriel couldn’t sense his deceit. Perhaps if she was a telepath instead of an empath it would have been obvious.

Reaching over, the recruiter took his datapad out of his pants and placed it in his lap. “All you have to do is place your thumb right here.” He waited a moment as Murriel turned giving him a look. She raised an eyebrow and took the datapad out of his hand looking at the display. A lot of the writing was far too small to read. “Don’t worry about the fine print. It’s all just administrative stuff. Government red-tape, you know how it is.”

Murriel didn’t actually know how it was, she did try to read it. But as he touched her back again, running his hands along her spine she felt a shock of exhilaration. A tingling from him, a strange excitement that set her on edge. Impulsively she placed her thumb on the pad. It chimed a pleasant sound as the signature was accepted.

Tossing the datapad aside she melted into him, the two ruffling the covers once again as the sounds of pleasurable activity drown the sound of the pad processing the signature and verifying the user’s identity and status. The two of them were far too busy with one another as the pad chimed a second time. This time the display changed, sending the Republic recruiter a message... APPLICANT ACCEPTED…RESERVATION MADE…REPUBLIC TRAINING BATTALION INPROCESSING APPROVED. BASIC TRAINING ::AT:: UNIFIED FORCES BATTALION number 6745 INFANTRY TRAINING UNIT 54…arrival: IMMEDIATE…
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PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Tue 26 Dec - 22:53

Coruscant…Unified Training Facility…two years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…



Setting things in motion, Murriel shut down the tattoo parlor and gave her ‘goodbyes’ to all those in the Red Light Sector. But it was only for a short while. ‘The Republic is giving me a beach!’ she told everyone. Follwing training she knew she would return, the obligation to get her beachfront property was only four years and that was only one weekend a month and two weeks out of the year for annual training. Unless something happened, in that case she could be called up to do ‘whatever’, as she put it.

Murriel had no idea what she was in for, making her way to Coruscant on her own. She hitched a ride with a freighter captain who was bound for Coruscant. A fair trade, she gave him a tattoo, he gave her passage. There was no need to pack much, though she did take her makeup case and bathing suit. Old habits die hard and Murriel’s wardrobe was still no bigger than a suitcase; a throwback to the days of old on Zeltros.

Arriving at the facility, she was greeted by an attendant in a very formal Republic Uniform. She could sense the woman was being overly nice about something as she pointed down the hall. It was deserted and disappeared around a corner. The highly polished floor matched the highly polished walls and ceiling. It all seemed very clinical and antiseptic as Murriel frowned, but followed the directions she was given.

The hall gave a false sense of closure, as she entered the room around the corner it opened up into a large auditorium. Various species present and lots and lots of different people. All of them seemed just as confused and excited as she did. Murriel was about to engage one or two of the people nearest her, but a loud bell chime stopped her. Everyone looked toward the front as a finely dressed man stepped to the forefront and across the stage in front of them. Without being told everyone, including Murriel found the seat nearest them and sat. The room grew quiet as the man in uniform smiled out and over the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am General Craddock…Commander of the Republic’s Reserve Forces. I want to welcome you all here today. Before I swear all of you in, I just want to say what a pleasure it is to have you all here and willing to serve the Republic. Many different races are present here today, some you have come a great distance to be here.” He paused and looked over the crowd still smiling. “Now, your reasons for wanting to serve are your own, but it says a lot to us in the Military Service that so many different types of races are here and willing to serve for citizenship. In the crowd we have Aquilish, Zabrak, Mon-calimari, some members of the Sith Empire and…a Zeltron as well.” The General smiled directly at Murriel before continuing. “Now, you have nothing to worry about being mixed with so many different cultures. We here in the Republic are well versed on all of your individual needs and are prepared to train you in accordance with those requirements. We’ve been doing this a very long time…trust me when I say, you made the right choice and we welcome the opportunity to serve YOU while you train to serve the Republic….”

With the speech completed an automated voice chimed in. The General stepped back one step and came to the position rigid attention.

<”Will all applicants please stand in front of your seats and raise your right hand. Please repeat after the swearing in officer…either in basic or in the language of your choice. Universal translators are available, please raise your left hand and an attendant will see to your needs…”>

“I—state your name--….” The General began, Murriel rolled her eyes and raised her right hand repeating the General as he spoke into a loudspeaker. “…do solemly swear or affirm…” Murriel repeated again, the General seeming to read his lines off a teleprompter which descended from the ceiling.  “…that I will uphold and defend the principles of the Galactic Republic…” Murriel looked around at the others as she spoke, something wasn’t right. “….That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the Republic and all those member planets there-in…” She continued to speak, but now she was getting a strange feeling from speaking the words. “…understanding that by swearing this oath, that I will follow the orders of those appointed above me, even if it may lead to my own death; in the service of the Republic….”

‘Ok, wait a minute’, Murriel thought, she slowly lowered her hand, but it was too late. The General on stage relaxed and stepped forward again.

“Welcome to the Republic Armed Services…”

They seemed to wait offstage and outside the double sliding doors that Murriel had only just noticed. Big, angry ‘Uniformed’ people. All of them wore large hats, with wide stiff brims. In the center of each hat, an emblazoned Republic ‘Eagle’. All of them were screaming and yelling at once. They entered the rows, one of the angry ‘Sergeants’ per row, shoving and pushing the recruits out of the seats and toward the other end.

Murriel got up of her own accord, when the Sergeant got to her she had already moved to the end. The screaming continued until all of them previously seated were now lined up against the wall facing the angry Sergeants. Murriel looked right then left, it looked as if she was about to get shot with all of the rest of them. Though she sensed anger, she could tell some of it was ‘forced’ or false anger. Some of the Sergeants were secretly laughing or feeling joyful on the inside. This was all for show and in getting that feeling it made Murriel relax a little. After having faced down dome of the worse dregs in the Red Light District, these crisply uniformed and wide brimmed Sergeants were NOT going to get a rise out of her.

Poking and prodding at the ‘applicants’ now turned ‘Recruits’, the Sergeants all turned off the stun settings on their batons. Murriel could sense that was purposeful, feeling their agitation at some of the Recruits not getting into line. It looked like a jagged set-up, some of the Recruits trying to mimic what the General looked like on stage and others, like Murriel relaxing or looking like they didn’t care. Satisfied it was as good as it was going to get, the Sergeants all backed up a step, a voice from behind them brought silence to the murmur. It didn’t use an enhancer to project its voice, it didn’t need to.

“….whatever deity you pray to, whatever god, higher power, talisman, staff, twig, rock…things living or non-living; made up or not. This…matters not to me….”

The voice emerged from the far corner of the auditorium. A large human, larger than most. He had a scar that ran the side of his face and was tucked neatly under the brim of his wide hat. Under that scar a metal plate that blinked with one or two green lights. Cybernetics, that he didn’t care to cover. He started to walk as he spoke, his voice getting louder with each word. But was strangely calm and soothing to listen to. He didn’t need to yell, he was just that loud.

“…now, you ask yourself ‘Why’? There will be a lot of ‘why’ in the next few days. ‘Why’ did I raise my hand? ‘Why’ am I here? ‘Why’…does he always seemed to be focused on me?....” As the larger Sergeant said that he stopped right in front of Murriel and looked through her. She smiled nonchalantly and waved with the tips of her fingers. She could sense annoyance in him as he started to walk down the line of recruits again, still speaking.

“…The ‘Why’ you should be concerned with is…’Why’ does he not care how or what I believe?”

With those final words he made it back to the center of the auditorium. Placing his hands on his hips he smiled wickedly at the recruits, almost wanting one of them to speak up. Not getting an answer, he lowered his gaze and nodded.

“…the reason ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’ that I DON’T care what you believe or what you decide to believe in is….” His eyes came up with the brim of his hat and under it the most evil smile Murriel had ever witnessed on a human. For the first time, his voice lowered in both octave and volume.

“…all of your asses now belong to me. You can give that heart away to who or whatever you want, but that ass…that ass is now the Republic’s for the foreseeable future.”

“Um…excuse me…”

If it was possible to get quieter in the room, Murriel speaking up definitely caused it. All of the Sergeant’s eyes got wide as they immediately went to Murriel. At first she didn’t grasp the gravity of the moment or that asking a simple question could have illicit such incredible emotions. She retched back at the intense bombardment of negative thought directed at her. Slowly she lowered her hand, but the damage was done.

The larger Sergeant who was speaking suddenly smiled, he waved at the others to part the way as he moved forward. Still smiling he approached Murriel laying an arm on the wall and relaxing nonchalantly. She could sense it was a fake smile, but she smiled back anyway. “Yes, my dear…what’s your name? You have a question?” Murriel relaxed and let out a sigh.

“Uh…yea, I mean…” She looked around, “…I think I’m in the wrong place. I mean…the ‘guy’ earlier said something about ‘dying’ and then you mentioned my ass and the foreseeable future?!?! I’m just here for my deed and—”

The larger man pushed off the wall and stifled a laugh, “Wait, did you say deed? What was your name again?!?” He gestured for one of the other Sergeants who handed him a datapad. Murriel stood on her tiptoes a minute and could see her face on the screen as he read. “You’re Murriel La’chan’ce, right?” He seemed to keep reading as she nodded.

“Right…and I signed up to get a condo with some property that was promised to me.”

Continuing to smile, the Sergeant in Charge placed his hand back on the wall after reading a little more. “Mhm…yep, that’s a problem see…” Pushing off the wall he loomed over the much smaller Murriel. “…we don’t have any condos here, no beach either…” As he walked away, he gestured to the other Sergeants. “Get them in for sizing, but put Ms. La’chan’ce up front. I want her to see what we do have and what she signed up for…”

They descended as one unit, all of the Sergeants activating their stun settings on the batons as they shocked and prodded the recruits back into line and then all facing toward the exit, one behind the other. Murriel raised a hand again, “Um…wait a minute, if you shock me with that—”

“IDON’TGIVEADAMNWHATYOUTHINKYOUCOULDDO—GETYOURASSBACKINLINEBEFOREISKULLKRIFFYOU!!!”

As they all marched away, in line toward the exit Murriel knew she had gotten herself into something that she was not going to get out of. Her mind flashing back to the words of the General and ‘dying’. She shook her head, no idea what was going to come next.
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PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Fri 5 Jan - 15:16

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PostSubject: Re: Murriel - 'Love is for Poets'    Tue 9 Jan - 20:49

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


Stifling her laugh, Cora covers her mouth a moment, shaking her head. “I just find it hard to believe that YOU had anything to do with the Military. That must have been awful for you, knowing how you are.”

Murriel shook her head in turn. She didn’t return the laugh, but smiled lazily. Her eyes in a state of reflection as she looked off once again, thinking about the past. “It wasn’t so bad…mostly due to how I am.” She took a sip of the newly filled tea glass and smiled to herself before looking over. “Let me just say and I don’t know how the Empire handled inter-species training programs, but the Republic didn’t know the first thing about Zeltrons. If they did, they never would have put me in general population with other men and women. Come to think of it, they should have just made a Zeltron platoon or something…”

--

Coruscant…Unified Training Facility…two years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…


Standing in front of their bunks, Murriel tried to stay completely still and rigid as the voice at the end of the hall called them all to 'Attention'. It was the second week. They learned all about standing at attention, caring for their uniforms, how to make a bed. But nothing that had to do with ‘why’ Murriel was actually there. And thus far, no one had told her what she was actually training to do for the Republic Military.

She tried everything to get out of being in the Army. Almost the opposite of everything they tried to make her do, she did, just to get under their skin. It seemed to be working, until the very large Sergeant with the wide-brimed, stiff hat decided to stop punishing her and start punishing everyone else for what she did.

They came down on her hard. Those in her platoon were unappreciative of her efforts to get herself removed. Her body ached from the amount of remedial training she and the others were forced to endure. Murriel had never been to prison, but she imagined that if she did have to go, it couldn’t be worse that what she was enduring at the hands of the Republic Military. Her platoon mates had a sit-down with her after the last iteration of one-hundred push-ups; ‘Shape up…or WE are going to shape you up…’. For the first time in a long time, Murriel was actually in fear for the situation she found herself in.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Sergeant walking next to another man. This one dressed similarly to the General who inducted them all on her first day; with less flair on his uniform. Murriel was very good at picking out detail. Though the uniforms of both the Sergeant and the other man were similar, this new individual had stripes down both sides of his pants. The cuff markings on his shirt were gold and he seemed to be walking ahead of the Sergeant, who was keeping his head down and eyes front. The new man was walking slowly as he looked from one recruit to the other, hands clasped securely behind his back. As Murriel tried to surmise who the person was, he answered the question for her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Captain Hopper…your Company Commander. You are not going to see a great deal of me, but I wanted to visit each of my platoons and let them know that I am watch—”

He stopped speaking once he made it to Murriel. The Zeltron smiling broadly as the Commander looked her up and down. An idea was already forming the moment he mentioned that he was the Commander. From what limited knowledge she had about the Military, Murriel gained since arriving, Officers ran things. Sergeants trained things. If there was anyway she was getting off Coruscant and out of the Military it was going to be through ‘this guy’.

The Sergeant grimaced and showed his teeth as the Captain stopped. “Eyes front, recruit…” he hissed under his breath. The Captain raising a hand slowly to the larger man as he continued to look at Murriel, a slow smile coming to his face. He got close, closer than he probably should have if he knew anything about Zeltrons. Murriel’s pheromones were on overload since arriving on Coruscant, it had gone way beyond her personal control in the environment she was in.

The Captain’s eyes glazed over and he slumped a little as he leaned in, seeming to sniff at Murriel before speaking.

“And who might you be…Mrs….?”

“La’chanc’e…Murriel La’chanc’e….” She extended a hand to shake the Commander's. The Sergeant very quick to grab his Commander’s arm and pull it back toward him as the Officer reached forward to return Murriel’s gesture. The Sergeant knew all too well about Zeltrons even if his Commander didn’t, but the damage was done. Still, a resolute Soldier, the Commander shook his head as if to clear it and stood back up slightly. Though his eyes were still glassy, he seemed to get some of his sense back. A wicked smile blanketed his face as Murriel felt the emotion coming off of him. She began to sweat again as the essence of his wicked thoughts reached her.

“No Sir…” The Sergeant’s head inclined toward Murriel, “…Zeltron, you shake that hand and you are liable to do somethin’ embarrassing.” The Commander rubbed his hand over his chest before returning it to its place behind his back. Even under the influence of Murriel; he continued on, starting to speak once again.

“I want to inform all of you, as your Commander, it is your right to see me whenever you wish. You simply have to request permission and use your Sergeants first to vet your grievances. If they are unable to solve your problem, my door is always open. That’s the Open Door policy…”

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


“Oh, I know where this is going…” Cora spoke sarcastically. “So tell me, how many people did you actually sleep with during training.”

Murriel scoffed, “How many is just a number, that’s not the important thing here. The important thing is, no matter how many people or what I did, I never got out. The Republic Army beat me. I have a lot of respect for that, at least as an institution. Now the individuals…that’s another story…”

--

Coruscant…Unified Training Facility…two years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…


Kitchen duty put everyone in close proximity to one another. Even in the tiny prep area, people seemed to stay further away from Murriel. Already her platoon mates were aware of the effect she had on them, several of them already succumbing to her ‘spell’.

“That’s not very cordial…is it?” Murriel looked up at the voice. Her hands coated with the remnants of the Cavafruit she was peeling, a knife dangling in the other. She started to stand once she saw it was the Company Commander addressing her. He waved his hand for her to remain seated and kneeled down to get closer. “I was referring to the treatment by your platoon mates, they seem to have ostracized you…”

Shrugging, Murriel hung her head lowly, but tilted enough to look past the hair that fell in her eyes to look over at her Commander. A shy smile came over her face. “I’m used ta it actually…never been much about following rules and stuff…” She couldn’t help it, she had to do it. Winking at him the smile grew as the Commander attempted to stand. At the last moment he may have realized he bit off more than he could chew with her. He stumbled in trying to stand, falling forward onto Murriel and her pile of Cavafruits.

She grabbed him to steady his fall, their face in such close proximity, she could have kissed him; but she didn’t. Instead, she blew out gently on his face. She watched him sag even more as they both stood together, Murriel helping the larger man to his feet.

“I’m—” The Commander placed his hand to his forehead, he tried to shake it off. Immediately his head turned back to her, the wicked smile returning. Eyes locked on her like she was a target. Grabbing her arm a little tighter he moved with her toward one of the in wall freezers, seeming to get a sense of himself. “Recruit, perhaps I need to show you the proper way to store these fruits, after they’ve been prepared...” Opening the door to the freezer, he shoved Murriel inside and walked in after her, sealing the door behind himself.

Even before the safety locking mechanism finished its procedure to close the door, the Commander already had Murriel pushed up against a side of some kind of frozen meat. She looked at him hungrily, not entirely sure he was completely under her ‘spell’. She flung her tunic off and curled a finger toward him. Opening her knees, she scooted up on the frozen carcass and pulled him toward her as the Commander made a similar move, flinging off his own tunic.

“I want you to say you ‘Love me’…” She suggested, the wicked smile still ever present. “Then you’re going to show me that you will do anything for me…”

Nodding as commanded the Commander scooped Murriel up into his arms whispering, just before launching his lips towards hers. “I love you…I would stop the galaxy for you…”

“Good…” Murriel said between kisses, “…very good.”

--

Lameredd, Marstel’s Farm…


Cora’s eyes got wide again. “How many times?!?!”

“Every night for like three weeks straight…” Murriel giggled, “Humans are so easy…I didn’t even have to use that much of my essence to get him. I know my Sergeant was always wondering HOW I managed to get him alone the first time. He was surprised when I told him that I didn’t have anything to do with it. The Commander came to me during some kitchen duty I was put on….” Murriel laughed again.

“But it didn’t get you out?”

Frowning, Murriel shook her head. “No, we got caught before I could actually use him.”

There was a question lingering. Cora’s brow tightened as she looked over and gave Murriel the look. “Why didn’t you ever—”

“Mez my Sergeant…trust me Love, I tried…the man had cybernetic implants that prevented him from being affected by my essence. It made life very difficult”

--

Coruscant…Unified Training Facility…two years before the discovery of the Eternal Empire…


It was no accident that Murriel drew guard duty again. At first, they thought they were punishing her. Then she stopped complaining. That made the Sergeant a bit curious as to why Murriel, though not eager to go on Guard Duty, certainly wasn’t fighting it anymore. All of it started just after the Zeltron exercised her right under the ‘Open Door’ policy to go speak with Captain Hopper.

The Sergeant made sure he was there, in the room and present for the first conversation. Murriel laid out her case for ‘why’ she shouldn’t be in the Army. What made the whole conversation awkward, besides the Sergeant’s presence, is that he insisted that both he and the Commander wear full battle armor. The rebreather system built into the armor capable of filtering out any pollutants.

Murriel was on to them. Thinking on her feet, she glanced between the Sergeant who was standing behind the Commander, arms folded across his chest and the Commander who was seated at his desk. "There are things I really can’t discuss in the company of ‘others’…" she said, looking at the Sergeant as she spoke, smiling wickedly. The Sergeant had trained literally thousands of troops of various species. He knew the game and shook his head informing her that in the presence of other species with the potential of using coercion, someone else must always be present.

He didn’t know how she did it, but she managed to get the Commander alone. All it took was one time and as he followed her to Guard Duty, taking up a position just outside the guard post to watch her, he shook his head. It wasn’t until he saw the Commander show up at the guard post that he began to question how she could have done it. Murriel was a crafty one, he had to give her that.

They seemed to get right down to business. Murriel disappeared from standing post, dropping down inside the guard post. Soon the Commander followed suit. The glass surrounding the box soon fogged up confirming the suspicion that the Sergeant had all along. He didn’t know if Murriel used her natural abilities on the Commander to subvert him. He nodded to himself and grimaced, moving back toward the training facility. Murriel would get no more guard duty.

Though the Commander was a willing participant, at least at first. It was the Commander that sought her out in the Kitchen after their first conversation. Though he claimed he was not in his right mind, a fact that alone saved him from being court-martialed and drummed from the service, he was transferred shortly after that. That left the Sergeant to finish their training. After the Commander's departure, Murriel got no more 'freebies'. But it was close to graduation from Basic Training and it didn't matter very much by that point.
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