Hyena meets Tiger (JA25 & MB Closed)

Time: 21.00
Place: Bar
Characters: Volod Stasilen, Syla Radyr

The bluish hue of the neon lights colored Stasi's drink in a bizarre manner, casting a rippling reflection upon the hyena sitting behind said drink. It was a lazy evening for Stasi, not to imply that any evening were not-lazy, but this one, exceptionally so.

Slouching in a bar was a hobby for the mechanic, but the current crowd wasn't very interesting, and he was getting slightly bored.

Augh... This has been a total bust.

The hyena figured that he would wait for some more minutes, maybe half an hour before he would cut his losses and head home. Wait, who was he kidding, he would go to a different bar. He had a reputation to uphold.

Sipping some more of his highly intoxicating drink, the not-entirely-sober hyena continued to scan the crowd with his luminescent eyes for any interesting personalities.

The evening was young and Syla had had an interesting day. Her job was usually interesting, yes. But this day had been an exception... or rather, extremely so. She was just on her way back from the Virtual Reality deck and from a particularily exotically inclined client and feeling still very much like Kitty. It was no doubt this affected her desicion to choose a bar over a comfortable bed. That bed needs a softer mattress...

She'd tell you this was to forget what had happened. And maybe it was, at least partially. This night she just didn't want to be alone. At least yet.

This particular bar was one that Syla hadn't been in before. The lighting was more vibrant and pulsating than the calmer spots she tended to use. The light gave her fur an odd blueish hue that swifted from time to time. And she liked it.

Just as she had walked inside tha bar Syla realized that she was still wearing the clothes from before - a sleeveless and quite tight turtleneck dress. The dress went about to her knees and showed off her curves nicely. It wasn't indecent by itself but... full of indecent memories which made her slightly embarrased. She was also wearing a small bag with her own clothes in it.

All of this made her concentrate on just getting a drink.

At least two , she corrected herself, there's no way I'm leaving after just one.

Syla brushed her paw through her hair and relocated herself to the counter, pondering what to order. All of it seemed so exiting.

As the tigress waded into the crowd, heading resolutely towards the counter, Stasi perked up. Now this was someone. Her slightly troubled outlook peaked Stasi's interest, for it was clearly different from all the slap-happy time-wasters around her. And without a moments hesitation, the sociable hyena had vanished from his table, already halfway across the room.

While carefully weaving his way through a rowdier spot in the crowd he approached the tigress from behind, stopping for a moment to admire the pear-shaped lady and the finer nuances of the feminine backside.

Not a moment after the his target had stopped to wonder about her drink, Stasi appeared to her right side, practically out of nowhere, and sat on the closest stool next to her.

"Izvinite..."

He accidentally began with his native language, but was quick to correct.

"... May I suggest you order a Red Delight? On me, naturally."

Stasi gave the lady his warmest smile, while gently, and quite blatantly, letting his ridiculously yellow eyes wander on her figure.

Not giving her much time to respond Stasi offered her his hand.

"Volod Stasilen is my name, but you may call me Stasi."

Then, after suddenly smirking like a lunatic, he added.

"Or 'stripy' if you will. But that seems to be a trait we both share, ispravitʹ?"

Again his sentence contained remnants of his eastern-Margas dialect. Untranslatable to all but the most expensive devices aboard Lux.

Still thinking what to order, Syla took up a spot on one of the barstools at the counter. She was quite absorbed in the world of indeciciveness, but her pondering was quite abruptly cut by a male voice. Syla couldn't make up what he was saying but shifted her eyes to the direction of the sound just to see a young Hyena sit next to herself. A bit shaken of the sudden development (as if she wasn't expecting much interest or contact) she took a closer look of the man next to her. A younger man, handsome, but in a kind of rugged way. A manual laborer of somesort... and probably a frequent bargoer.

"I-uh-", Syla tried to reply to his offer but got cut off by the hand gesture. The man studying her body wasn't a suprise, but the straightforwardness of it was intriquing. Not many people had the decency to do that - most were too ashamed or confused of their own goals.

The eyes...

Syla smiled at the man that had identified himself as Volod Stasilen and shook his hand in a suprisingly firm hold. She was quite flattered to have caught anyone's attention like that while looking like she did now... and out of the virtual reality.

"Well, aren't you a straightforward one? I like that."

Syla used the pause in her speech to nod to the bartender who, after overcoming his slight confusion, began mixing.

"I'm Syla Radyr. From Wera. And I must thank you, I wouldn't have been able to decide... at least so quickly."

I don't remember him from before. Doesn't seem like a client, either. Or a potentional one. This could be interesting.

Syla leaned on the table and crossed her legs. The dress might have been long enough to preserve decency, but the knowledge of that didn't alter behaviorial patterns learned from a long time ago. But she was getting more comfortable now - and at least she had company. Now it was just a matter of keeping said company interested.

Her eyes twinkled slightly at the mention of "stripy".

"Stasi... hmm. Why not use your first name? Or do you not like it?"

Stasi raised his brows at the mention of straightforward. He disliked the word. He would have described himself as opportunistic.

"Make that two."

He said to the bartender, just to keep himself from going thirsty, and immediately returned his attention to this interesting female. A question was asked. Volod's head tilted slightly while he theatrically pondered to find a suitable answer.

"Vrode. Eeh... Maybe so, but not quite."

Stasi gave her a smirk.

"Some people wish to get to first name basis, I am quite a lot more ambitious."

He laughed at his own quip, and that laugh was a personal one. Sort of a bubbly giggle combined with a manic chortle.

"Shutka, shutka! I was joking. Truly there is no deeper meaning to it. I've been Stasi since I can remember, and will be until I forget."

Closed eyes, wily smile and ears tilting slightly backwards. A very clever person could have detected a hint of lie in his act.

"Would you prefer I call you Syla, or...?"

Syla didn't miss the raised eyebrow. Disapproval? Maybe, maybe not. In any case, it was enough for her to take a bit more space. She relaxed her back and leaned backwards to the low backrest of the bar stool she sat on.

The female tilted her head to the left and looked a bit confused when the word "ambitious" showed up. It sounded quite blunt but then again... there could be a translation issue. It seemed like not all of his words were translated at all. Odd, the translator should be working nicely.

Maybe I'll have to contact a mechanic about that later.

"Every since you were little? Nicknames from from that far away often have interesting stories..."

Not being widely knowledgeable in the fine art of socialization Syla had a slight feeling that something was off... but no real, tangible reasoning beyond that.

It's probably best not to pressure too much.

"And Syla is fine, though some people do call me by different names. But Syla is my name. It'll have to do."

A quick glance on the bartender revealed the drinks to be nearly ready, and this made Syla feel a bit more adventurous.

"Can I ask you a weird-sounding question?"

Her voice was interested but a bit cautious, and she was looking intently at Stasi's eyes.

Unbeknownst to her, Syla was right. The name 'Stasi' had indeed a story behind it, although more of a sad one. The only people to call him by his real name were his family. But that was quickly brushed aside, for he didn't want the lady to think any less of him.

"It'l have to do? Lyubopytnyy... Interesting?"

Stern look, but honestly intrigued.

Does this mean that she dislikes her own name?

Luckily that thought process was cut off by another question, only to be replaced by wild mass guessing.

A 'weird-sounding' question? What could that be? Something sexual? In my dreams. Then maybe something very deeply personal? No, too obvious. Hmm...

"Konechno... Er... Go ahead?"

She was staring him in the eyes. Well, Stasi wouldn't be out-stared. His yellow-glowing eyes started to burrow into hers, with lust and mystique. Stasi really didn't mind. This Syla was becoming quite forward herself.

Syla didn't fail to miss the unanswered question about the origins of this nickname. Not that it mattered at the moment, but still. An interesting topic to lead on - or to avoid - later.

A small giggle let itself out of Syla.

"Not especially - but it would make a funny story if someone else would be telling it. I'm afraid I'm a terrible storyteller. Horrible, even... I bet your story is much more interesting anyway."

An another quick (and quite teethy) smile later Syla noticed that Stasi was staring back. This made her feel... weird. And as she wasn't sure if it was in a good or bad way. It was the eyes.

"I bet you get this a lot... and I'm probably going to sound like a fool for asking it... but your eyes. They're... glowing."

That wasn't a question, but it did convey what she wanted to ask. She was just embarrased - feeling like it would e something she'd have to know. And the possible replies could me quite rude indeed. But it was a question that she was genuinely curious about.

There were others, but they'd best be left to some other time.

This coaxed Stasi to give a hearty laugh. This was quite humorous in his opinion. He thought Syla was pretty cute, asking things like that so purely. He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was saving her from them, and then he spoke.

"Blunt, aren't you? They aren't glowing by their own power. My eyes just reflect light very strongly. You could say I was born handsome? Mozhet bytʹ, ne. Maybe not."

This was indeed a common question to be asked of Stasi, and the answer varied wildly. This was quite close to being absolutely true. But more to that matter, he had more things to say.

"And what makes you think my story is more interesting?"

Stasi asked with a moments seriousness, but once again laughed gleefully. He was indeed going to answer, this was just gentle teasing, not to be taken seriously. And since he kept going nearly immediately, and with a soothing tone of unmistakable friendliness, who could be offended by this quirky hyena.

"Who am I to not share? The origin of my nickname is actually quite simple. Stasilen. Stasi - len. Stasi. Khorosho... Given to me by my mates, may they rest in peace, from my mining days."

Even though his sentences were complicated, he spoke in a calm manner, explaining things in a soft way. He was relaxed by talking about past things. They did not actually interfere with today, but they made for an entertaining in-between.

Embarrasment. That's the word for what Syla was feeling right now.

Eyes, seriously? That's the question you ask? You just met this man and that's the first question that comes to mind. You could have asked about his life in general, or his occupation... or his age. But no. Eyes.

Syla was facepalming on the inside. This was exactly the type of question she herself was asked online on a daily basis. The type of question that was especially annoying to answer due to the constant repetition.

"Sorry. But you got to admit, your eyes must be quite an enigma to a ladyperson such as myself. I'd imagine to some males, too. And it's always better to ask than forever live without knowing the all-important mysteries of the glowing eyes."

Syla made her best apologetic-but-kind-of-joking face, hoping it would help the slippery situation somehow. Stasi was doing a much better job at it, though.

And... Syla couldn't deny that Stasi was both quite interesting and charming. There wasn't anything to complain about his physical features, either.

"Well, you seem like you've seen more than I have. Not to mention that you approached me - from what I've heard that may take some guts. Especially from a younger man such as yourself."

Syla flicked her hair and restraightened her back as if she didn't want to seem any older in comparison.

"A miner? In Lux? This hardly seems like the ideal headquarters for a successful mining operation... I assume you're working on some other line of work at the moment... but alas, I have no idea what to guess. Would you give me a tip?"

After listening intently what Syla had to say, Stasi couldn't help grinning like an idiot. She had given him a compliment, and he was pleased by this. Stasi was in fact, very easy to please. Always eager to both give and receive compliments.

"Khotya, well yes. But approaching a lady as yourself was nearly irresistible for me. Eh... You caught my eye, yes?"

Stasi chose to return the compliment with utmost honesty shining from his face. Somehow this stripy-faced idiot managed to be childishly lovable and charmingly brutal at the same time. This was going well. It seemed as if his companion was actually interested in Stasi, and that feeling was surely mutual.

Sylas joke made Stasi giggle like the hyena he was. And it was not a condescending laugh, but a true one. It was both girly and affectionate, a weird combination, and highly contagious.

"Well sure, mysteries are important and importance is mysterious, like the importance of these drinks that have arrived under our noses. Ura!"

And so he drank. All in one go, like was his habit.Red Delight wasn't exactly mild, but neither was it poisonously hard. Stasi liked it.

"And yes, I can give you a tip."

Then he started piling the insides of his pockets on the table. Wrenches, bolts, torsion bars, a plasma-cutter, bits and pieces of electrical circuitry... Eh, that should do. Then he turned his eyes back to Syla.

"Can you guess?"

I really have to see a mechanic about this translating device... or perhaps make a sofware update? But surely I couldn't be needing one yet...

"Oh, you don't have to spend so much energy on flattery... but do go on", Syla replied to the compliment while readjusting her position. She even blushed a bit. An amount that would've been invisible if you wouldn't have seen the blush spread in action.

Syla though Volod seemed really happy all of a sudden, and his laughter was indeed very contagious and welcome. Altough Syla's own laughter lacked the same energy, it wasn't unpleasant in any way. Just not equally as charismatic. Or that was her opinion, at least.

She was having quite a bit of fun indeed, and didn't even notice the drinks before Stasi pointed out they had arrived. Syla eyed the drink for a bit, smelled it and took a sip, suprised of the strenght of it. Stasi didn't seem to mind, though, and had already began to give her the tip... in his own way.

"Oh my, you carry all that stuff with you? Let me think... a repairman? No... you're cleverer than that. My guess is that you don't only repair, but also make things of your own?"

Syla spent a moment of thought sipping a bit more of her drink.

"No, that's as close as I'm going to guess. Was I anywhere close?"

"Partial credit, I'm both a mechanic and an engineer, but beyond that I am an technician and a general handyman of sorts."

Stasi smiled his unique smile, a thing he did often, and was rarely disliked by anyone. Stasi usually spread happiness and good cheer anywhere and among anyone he ever met. This made him well known among the people who frequented bars like this. He had already made countless friends, but this one might be more than that... He was always positive, always hopeful.

After dispatching his stuff back into his pockets with astonishing speed, he gave Syla another intriqued look. Questions were asked, but Stasi was mostly the one answering. His turn, he quessed. A thing he had been wondering for a moment.

"And what is it that you do? Za predelami... Besides alluring young men like myself, of course?"

All through his question, a quirky smile refused to leave Stasi's face. And his eyes were tightly glued to the ones opposing him. He tilted his nose slightly downwards, and achieved quite a cute look to reinforce his question.

"Ah well, I suppose to someone completely unaware of the inner workings of any mechanical thing that guess could be classified to being close enough..."

A silence fell on the air and Syla took the break to sip some more of her drink. She could feel it sliding through her throat. Warm but not too warm. Stasi, on the other hand, seemed to use this time to ask a question.

A question she'd been trying to avoid so far. Not because she was scared of him reacting negatively, or because she was embarrased of it. She worked very hard to keep her online and offline parts separate - and questions like this made it a bit harder. It simply was easier when people didn't know what she did.

She didn't want to tell nothing.

Oh no. How am I... going to word this...?

She decided to go with the truth, albeit a censored one. It's not like it was a secret, just a bit too... ehm. Too much for now. Maybe later. Maybe.

Syla lifted her chin up, straightened her spine again and adjusted the rather full bag on her shoulder.

"Well, believe it or not, I'm actually a model."

Stasi couldn't hide the slight raise of his brow, as the answer surprised him. A model? Interesting. Not any typical model, that's for sure. Even as delightful Syla was, modeling jobs usually required a different type of physique. This fascinated Stasi on a completely different level. It was something he hadn't anticipated, something strange and new, something...

"What kind of a model? I picture you as a lingerie-type of deal...Izvinite... Pardon, if that isn't too bold to be imagining?"

Once again, Stasi veiled his intentions into a convoluted mess of mixed joke and compliment. His specialty. He was, in fact, very curious about Syla, for several good reasons. Admittedly, most of them had to do with getting closer to her, but he was just being himself.

"Ah... I hope my jokes aren't too much, I know I can be quite crude."

Stasi wanted to at least take concern not to insult Syla with his cocking-about.

Syla saw Stasi lifting his brow. Lifting his brow.

The woman reacted by lifting her hand on top of her heart and attempted to both sound and look somber.

"Yes... I know. It can be quite difficult to believe... that a woman such as me could be suitable for a job such as that. But I assure you... there are people who actually do prefer a bit of a curve on their women."

She tried her very hardest to remain serious, but cracked and giggled for a bit. Stasi just looked so delightfully confused.

"I suppose not, but I do a variety of things. Lingerie is my favorite, though... but not equally as glamorous as people tend to imagine. It gets quite lonely quite fast. But I guess that's what it's like for any freelancer."

Syla was rambling a bit at this point and decided to end her reply by drinking the rest of her drink in one go. She could feel a slight sting in her throat while making one last remark on the subject.

"I'm just happy people offline don't know to link me to the work I do. It could be quite controversial. And no, I don't mind. I've gotten used to it."

Syla followed Stasi's reactions quite closely.

Stasi listened intently. This was exactly the thing that he needed to finish the puzzle. She had said 'people offline'. That would make her an online model. And that would explain... Well, a great many things. Outside this looked like a revelation. His face lit up in excitement, ears perking high. Generally speaking he looked very pleased in this latest discovery.

"Konechno! Of course. You would be an online model? Interesting line of work, no?"

Stasi let his eyes wander on the tigress's body a second time, but a bit more intently. Caressing the aforementioned curves with his self-luminescent stare. Letting his visage linger on her hips a bit longer than was polite.

"And... Yes, I think you could say that I belong to the group that appreciates a 'bit of curve' on women. Izvinite, I do not mean to be too forward..."

He gave Syla a slight shudder, showing a slight hint of his weaker, more sensitive side. It was a calculated slip, a decided glimpse of difference, to make... Well, maybe it wasn't all that well planned, but he could at least tell himself that he did it on purpose.

Stop it brain, keep focused!

Indeed, Stasi quickly returned to his relaxed state of... relaxation.

Syla had said she didn't mind... but that didn't mean she particularily enjoyed the straightforward gaze, either. It was different than she'd gotten used to - there was indeed a difference of performing on/offline. It was more... intimate this way. And more exiting.

She felt a little flustered, and the warmth of the drink was still quite distinquishable on her throat.

"Hic"

There was almost no sound to it, and the largest effect was a sudden bounce that affected her entire body, visible to anyone who happened to look her way that very moment.

She coughed a bit and glanced through the drink list again, her face now a bit more reddish than usual. But it was a bit too early for a second drink - she had just finished her previous one. This had made her not notice the man's lingering stare on her hips. It was perhaps better this way.

"It... can be. Certainly. It's an incredible amount of freedom in a way - and nowadays I can even pick my clients somewhat. There certainly is... a demand for variety. But it has it's drawbacks."

Syla had indeed dodged the question, and it wasn't even that graceful. Her stance had changed from an open slouch to a slightly more reserved position. This was quickly readjusted when Syla heard a slight difference in Stasi's voice. A crack out of role? This was indeed interesting.

"So.... you're a Mechanic sort of person, yes? Would you happen to have any clue as to how these blasted translation machines work? Mine seems to glitch somehow - as if it's not translating some parts at all..."

She hoped this would divert his attention from her job - at least for a while. It certainly wasn't something she wanted people to base their image of her on.

She still felt an odd sensation in her chest area. Nothing serious or anything like that. Just a bit odd.

Stasi gave his companiatress a lopsided smile. He was very pleased with this latest turn of events. Syla seemed to be a bit flustered. Maybe some unlying nervousness? No, more like discomfort. Yes. That is what he was seeing. And maybe some alcohol making it's way tp to her mind, hazing her judgement, making her less wary... No. Bad hyena. Stop that. Back to being a pleasurable, charming and slightly rustic mechanic.

"Da, I am, and I can. This language I speak is not my primary language. My native is an eastern Margas dialect, so rare that even the excuisite translation devices aboard this ship can not translate it completely."

He smiled in his very special mysterious way, giving her a bit of teeth and a gleaming look of his illuminating, deep, lush and maybe slightly hypnotizing eyes.

"I try my best to not speak it, izvinite."

Then he looked at his muzzle, slightly amused by his ironic apology.

"I meant... Sorry."

After this he smiled and looked pleased and slightly drunk. Not too much though. Just a bit... Well maybe a bit more. A lot. Massively. Plastered. But his ability to hold his liqour was quite legendary. He was able to shrug it off. And Syla had finished her drink. Opportunity.

"Two more, barkeep, I'll pay."

The. He turned to Syla with a wilier smile.

"We can't have anyone running out drinks, eh?"

"Oh? I guess that explains it, then...", she replied, sounding a bit suprised.

Syla chucled a bit when presented with Stasi's slipup, covering her mouth partially with her chubby paw. This was an action she didn't think too much of - exept that it felt natural. The chuckle turned into a soft giggle when he tried to apologize she moved her hand to cover th rest. The laughter was spontaneus and she meant no harm with it - a thing she later hoped showed.

"It's okay", she said while still smiling," I do get most of the things you're trying to say. It's just a few words here and there. I suppose it could be a patch I'm missing..."

Getting to laugh a bit had made her a bit more relaxed, and the pieces of anxiety from before melted. This man surely knew how to handle a woman. He was probably popular, as well. Also looked like this wasn't the first bar he'd been in today... but just for a while long enough to ne noticable. Syla didn't think it likey for this person to be a lightweight, but was still suprised when Stasi ordered two more drinks. This stuff wasn't exactly the mildest stuff around, either.

I don't know what I'm going to do if he passes out...

"No, I suppose we can't...", she replied curiously, "Margas... I've never been to Margas. Heard some, but never been. How's it like?"

It seemed like pleasant smalltalk but she actually was interested. The planets were all so vastly different... and Stasi must have been living in sole really remote locations in order to gain that accent of his.

Stasi was indeed a bit drunk. His face had a lopsided smile, a goofy grin with a slight blush glowing from under his fur. He was slouched on the bar, leaning on it for support. But this was just a slight observation. With the amount of booze he had consumed, he should have been in the informary, or worse, in the morgue.

But then, the question about Margas was asked, and a solemn look appeared on his face. A look of distant sadness, of painful memories.

"Ah, memories... But it is not what you asked, but alas, I know very little about the planet itself. I spent most of my time in the mines. I could tell you the same basics each and everyone could, but it would not be very interesting."

Stasi avoided the question with surprising delicacy, but also with drunken bluntness. Now was the time to change the subject.

"But enough about that, I have a question for you instead. What is a girl like you doing in a bar like this? Looking for something, or someone? And if you are looking for someone, will I do? Izvinite for my brutal honesty."

After this he sipped a bit of his latest drink.

Oh, something happened?

Syla didn't see all of them, but didn't completely miss the signs oh him - and her - constantly becoming more and more drunk. She could see his slight wobble and need for support. And feel her own mind becoming more clouded. Was she really this bad at keeping her head? Or was it something else? She didn't know.

"Don't be so hasty, I even barely know you yet and I simply can't afford- ...the drama."

She took a break midsentence. An action that could've been interpreted to a variety of things, but in here was overshadowed by her attempt to gently place her paw on to his shoulder. She did find somehting of the sort with her second try, while slightly missing the intended spot with the first. A tell-tale sign of her own partial incompabilitiness with alcoholic beverages of any sort.

"But what do you say - I give you my number and after a while more of this lovely chat we'll both go and sleep these off and then I go and wait for your call to take me to dinner to some perfectly acceptable yet affordable restaurant. Any day you like. I can reschedule."

She nodded towards her drink and sipped a bit more. Not too fast, though.

Syla didn't think of it at that moment, but he had her sights set of his right hand as he took a drink. To be more specific, the finger of it. The missing one. This did puzzle her, but she assumed working on large pieces of machinery was indeed a potentionally dangerous business.

Stasi took a considerable time to collect his thoughts. This was a question, a suggestion of sorts. To have another date like this? Soon? Darn. Stasi had had his mind set on scoring tonight, but oh well. This was a close second.

"Izhab, but all right. I was maybe hoping for some, how you say, action?"

After this he shot his companion a mysterious look, halfway between joking and serious.

"But all right, here."

At this he pointed his VeX towards hers to exchange contacts. He used this lull to empty his own glass and look at Syla with a silly grinn. Oh my, he was getting pretty hammered. He knew his limits though... This was close to it. Oh well, luckily Syla wasn't entirely sober either. Things were apparently queting down, maybe next time, eh?

"What kind of food do you prefer? I am quite omnivoro-ous... Izvinite, that propably isn't a word. I eat everything is what I meant to say."

He giggled a bit and smiled with his eyes half-closed.