Log:The Auction In the Crown
The Auction In the Crown
OOC Date: July 25, 2023
Location: Nal Hutta
Participants: B'haav Adasta as GM, Xavier Harcourt, Rieve Selki, Netep Muri, Tamsin Cas
More than a little stir had been caused by the electronic intrusion at one of the more popular commerce hubs in Hutt Space. Though the burned-out electronics had been replaced, the mysterious and rogue advert had stuck with the witnesses and second-hand hearing alike. Today, the appointed day and time, finds a reasonably full auction hall under the watchful gaze of the Hutts' throne world. Guards and retinue representing several of the Hutt Lords can be spotted, as well as a wide-ranging variety of species from across the Galaxy. At the precise time scheduled, a droid proceeds down the central aisle to ascend the stairs and take up a central position on the raised stage.
Perhaps known to some from a long time ago in a psychiatrist's office oddly close, J4N-1C3 - or, Janice - has long departed the role of secretary droid that she had occupied in those early years. Now, her droid frame is adorned in leather and the latest in spacer fashion, tailored to complement what a droid is working with. Atop her head, simulated hair has been painted a bright emerald green, and a nose ring seems to have been pierced, or placed, on the droid's nose, with a small Aurodium chain running to another small ring on her ear.
<"Welcome, one and all, to this night of exquisite opportunity. We thank our Hutt Lords for the opportunity to bring these items to you, and to those select sellers for being willing to part with such wondrous items. The first lot will now be coming to the stage."> The first lot is a glass case containing a fanned series of pottery shards, arranged in a way as to suggest that they could be connected back together to form some ancient disc. Though what is on that disc would be anyone's guess. If anything. It could also be a plate.
Strange advertisements, whispers in the streets, unknown items, and a mystery purveyor atop it all? How could he not show up to one of the most thrilling things to happen in Hutt space since the cartel wars kicked in? Xavier hasn't been as much of a face in these parts lately, but that's hardly worth noting. The man is often not a face in many parts. Though he would occasionally check in with the Smoke and Glass in New Vertica, he has otherwise kept himself plenty occupied doing who-knows-what and a bit of who-even-cares.
Dressed down in usual spacer garb, he is smoke -- of couse -- among the throng of people and looking at the first item up for bid. While he seems wholly uninterested, he glances over to the shorter woman standing nearby with a lift of one thick, black eyebrow. "Let me guess. You intend to throw your entire life savings at the pretty shards of nothing, mmm?"
Clad in the rather martial and oh so distinctly exotic and expensive finery of the Kuati elite, Rieve lounges somewhat artfully off to the side, arms lightly folded and his bright blue gaze drifting from thsoe present to the arrival of the droid and the start of the show. A gap-toothed grin is offered as the delightful pottery shards are put on show, quite the decoration indeed. "Well now, isn't that delightful oui?" The blue-haired Hapan asks of those nearby, his accented words flowing and lilting and drifting easily into the oh so basic tongue that does many a Hapan word an injustice that time could never forget nor forgive.
The hunter green finery that the Hapan wears catches the light often, given the abundance of silver buttons that adorn not only the front, but his shoulders too. "I am how you say?" His head tilts towards the pottery. "Rather excited yes? Not often you get to travel elsewhere in this system for such an event..." His bidding paddle taps idly against his shoulder, ready to be raised as and when needed. "Quite the stylish droid too oui?" This entire event is a delightful mystery, and one Rieve could not afford to miss.
"They aren't actually *that* pretty..." Netep murmurs back to Xavier's snark, arms folded comfortably over her silk-clad chest, pointedly NOT rewarding his commentry with eye contact. She's too busy staring at the piece in question. Or is she staring at the /droid/?
"Quite stylish..." she can be heard to whisper, breathlessly, in the wake of a blue-haired Hapan's happy-to-be-here remarks. Several seconds pass before Muri inhales again, frozen in her fixated stare upon the auction's robotic MC.
JANICE.
Green hair...nose ring...had Janice taken a page of style from Muri's book, back in the day? Perhaps it is merely a coincidence. The Lorrdian mutt steps forward now, a vision apart from how she used to/typically dresses. Her curly, ornamented locks are chocolate-colored, not green/blue/violet/technicolored. Her ears, chin, fingers still bear assorted rings, her face still tattooed, but her clothing reeks of WEALTH. Silken finery, figure-flattering...not what a typical Muri wears in the gutter. Perhaps this is a /mature/ Muri. Or perhaps she's merely putting on airs. Netep pushes her way forward to see the goods a bit more up close, discerning eye squinting in study....
That bid paddle hovers midway between 'WANT' and 'NO'.
Tamsin looked, truth be told, rather bored from where she was sitting. She had been handed a paddle, as it was, yes, an auction, but the implement, rather unlike the usual hypospray that she tended to keep ready to hand, it sat idle in her lap. As Xavier made his way, her attention shifted to the taller, more olive-complected man, "I highly doubt that I will find anything worth bidding on. Sadly, these things tend to err towards the sort of things that warriors and sages value. And I am neither." Her paddle free hand did lift, making a index-finger gesture, one that said, 'but...but'..."If it happens to include something vaguely medical, I might find myself tempted." Because thi was, of course, Doctor Cas.
<"Found deep within the forests of Malastare, in a cave so hard to get to that they had to send in the smallest Anzellan in their organization, this seller submits a series of pottery shards believed to belong to ancient Dug civilization. Reassembly has not been attempted, but models and scanning information can be shared."> Janice pauses for effect. <"With the winning bid. Along with coordinates to the cave."> This addition sparks much more whispering and low-talking from those incapable of the whispered word. <"The bidding,"> calls the patiently-vocoded voice over the uproarious susurration, returning a lull. <"The bidding will commence at fifteen thousand credits."> It's a low starting bid, but maybe that's a tactic to lure them in. Maybe it's the provenance. Maybe...
"Fifteen thousand," calls the eager and lowly-pitched high voice of a plastoid-clad Ortolan, holding up a paddle to go with the starting bid. There's always one. As the droid points calmly to the Ortolan, her hand pauses just for a moment as it aligns perfectly from her optical sensor array to the once-known Lorrdian. The pause is only for an instant though. Just a hitch in the servos. It would be hard to recognize the Netep-Muri-that-is for the one that was.
"It's strange, them allowing a droid to take the stage in the Crown." A human-enough-but-for-the-deep-green-skin man replies to Rieve. "But it's got some really rare pieces, and I guess that's enough to look the other way?" He shakes his head, a sneer on his lips as he looks up to the droid and the pottery shards on display. The man seems to lack an auction paddle.
Far in the back of the a figure in heavy power armor carries a thin case in one hand as it crosses the threshold from foyer to hall. He takes up a seat in the back, gauntlets clutching tight to the thin black case.
Xavier huffs out a puff of toxic fumes when Netep predictably walks away and edges closer to the first lot up for bids. Why is it always bits of pottery with this woman? Fifteen years later and she's still giving him plenty of fodder to poke her about. He just rolls is eyes at the starting bid, as well. Of -course- there's others in the crowd that are just as eager to buy broken pieces of platery.
A vaguely familiar voice pings Xavier's ear. Enough to get him to look over his shoulder then the other. It is on the second pass that he finds the unmistakable blue hair and thick Hapan accent. "Rieve Selki. You're still alive?" He sounds genuinely surprised. Enough that it distacts him from Muri eyeballing their next encounter with drooling eyes.
Yes. Drooling. Eyes.
"And you're looking like you've not aged a day, either." To this he grins a bit more sadistically, not bothering to note the hypocrisy of him saying that. "What have you come to bid on?"
Hark! The crowd is filled with familiar voices tonight. That will teach him to disappear from Hutt space for.... .... what month is it? "And the Good Doctor, as well. Quite a crowd indeed. I'll admit I am curious what else they have for sale tonight."
Rieve takes a moment to check, his pulse is indeed beating and the blue-haired Hapan grins oh so brightly at Xavier. "I believe I am, and time has been kind... and look at you, your singing voice still as heavenly as you claim?" The Hapan asks as he restrains from bidding on the pottery, tempting as indeed it is. A nod is offered both Nuri and the Good Doctor Tamsin, paddle fluttered towards the two in a manner that in no way offers a bid on the pottery, tempting as such a decoration would truly be. "Quite the crowd, but then who could resist the allure of the messages and advertising for this most intriguing of events oui?" A smile, warm as ever, offered Xavier as the lounging Hapan gives an almost cat-like stretch as he rises to stand properly, posture perfect, paddle ready. "As for bidding? I am simply curious, I doubt my line of credit extends too far."
Deep within the forests of Malastare...ancient Dug civilization....
Muris' gonna call BS with the 'smallest Anzellan' bit, considering the size of Dug compared to said Anzellan, but she can appreciate the hyperbole.
Janice had her at 'coordinates to the cave'.
Although she mightn't *currently* look like one keen on slithering through muddy cracks in the ground, Netep lifts her paddle and slips her diminuitive frame around a towering auction-goer to stare 'Janice' in her optical sensor array. Muri's tat? It's one of a kind. She's willing to wager there's /some/ level of recognition there, memory bank data longevity pending. "17,500...for the Guild," the nomadic explorer calls out and puts her head on the swivel to fix a 'I kriffing dare you' look on the Ortolan.
Tamsin, being content, for the time being, to simply watch the proceedings until something piqued her interest, offered a nod of her head, though it was subtle, to those whose faces she recognized, including the Hapan courtesan in his more...martial finery. Such were the luxuries of Kuat. She was, of course, careful not to make any gesture too effusive, lest it be taken for a show of desire for an item of...pottery shards. Perhaps she was waiting to see to which home the pottery would be sent, for one could learn much about the bidder from the things that they bid on.
Quiet follows Muri's declaration, and the challenging stare offered to the initial bidder is not broken by the fluttering of a bidding paddle. <"Going once. Twice."> J4N-1C3 is staring at the back of Netep Muri's head, certainly having marked her by now. <"Sold to the woman bidding on behalf of the Explorer's Guild?"> There's a question - not needed, but there nonetheless - as Janice indicates the victor. The case is set to the side and an assistant approaches with a claim card, indicating transaction accounts, names, dates, contact information, the whole nine yards.
<"The next item up for bid is a curiosity of a more... Commercial nature. While Aratech is known for their repulsor vehicles, they did have a very brief foray into active fashionwear. The RBZed rocket boots use a short, sharp-burst repulsor application to give you the lift you so need even when you're on the go."> The next glass case comes out, showing a piece of technology that would complement even the maddest scientist's ensemble, while also avant garde enough to seem plausible on a runway. <"Be certain you know where you're landing. Bidding will commence at twenty thousand credits.">
"Twenty-thousand," bids the same Ortolan who has now found his voice again. He stands a little taller - though, not that tall - as he cranes to admire the boots from midway through the auction hall.
"I wouldn't nor have I ever referred to it as heavenly," Xavier points out with another draw of his cig, idly listening to the auction and those around him bidding on the trickets. There is an energy in the room that is difficult for him to ignore, though, and it keeps him from being able to sit down. So he stands and chats and pollutes the air around him. "But it pays the bills, if that's what you're asking. Don't tell me you are still holding on to that idea of a private show, Rieve. My, but you have a long memory."
Sold!
Xavier looks back up and visably groans at the revelation that she did, indeed, put a lot of money down on it. "Oblivion, damn her. No doubt she intends to drag me to some sunken cave filled with bones and mud hoping to find other pieces of garbage." This drag of his vice is done with a hint of annoyance and a pondering how he got to this point in his life. Or why he would allow it in the first place.
No sense mulling over it now. Next up are rocket boots! Xavier recoils a bit to that. "Pass. I never was much for anything airborne."
Rieve offers a gentle applause of paddle against palm for Muri's success in the bidding of those shards. Of course, with the renewed voice of the Ortolan who seems intent on bidding on everything, the Hapan grins and resumes his most idle lounging against a nearby surface. "They are exquisitely stylish are they not? Aratech is quite the brand too..." Of course, he looks to Muri as he ponders the practical nature of the boots. "What if the cave is difficult to traverse? These would be perfect for your journey!" Oh the bright and lilting tones of the Hapan accent drift free. "I could well imagine you flitting through the caves, feet aglow with the repulsors as they carry you along your way."
To Xavier, the Hapan glances and grins. "I remember a few things, here and there." An artful shrug is offered, alongside a widening grin as Xavier recoils from the prospect of the boots. "The cave is in your future too oui? That does sound fun!" Oh Rieve grins so bright, because it clearly doesn't look it judging by Xavier's comments, and the groan. "Probably a truly sunken cave, swampy, moist, laden with biting insects... aaaaah the fun you will have!"
One being's garbage is another Muri's treasure! Or at least a good time had.
Muri quietly hashes out the niceties - aka paying up - with the agent that finds her in the crowd.
Rocket boots? Alas, no. The good doctor was quite happy to keep her feet on the ground, and the paddle found itself tucked a bit more firmly into her lap. It was still early days yet, as it was said on some worlds, but certainly the strains of conversations going on around her perked up the golden-skinned woman's ears. A few words at least brought her attention back to the one bidding (and winning!) the pottery shards, and that recieved a nod from Tamsin. One useful bit of information to tuck away, the dip of her chin seemed to say.
Several more seem to echo Xavier's preferences. Fashion or no, there's a reason that repulsors go on speeders, droids and ships rather than people. Hearing no calls of interest from the crowd, the former secretary droid points to the Ortolan with the sort of hand gesture that implies this is not the first time for such an exchange. <"Going once. Twice. Sold, to Cortuk mal'Manno."> For the Ortolan does indeed have a name, well-known to Janice from some prior dealing or other. The Ortolan makes his way up the aisle, bumping into figures much larger than himself as he moves his stocky plastoid-armored frame to the next assistant to verify information.
Several lots are brought out, only to be sent away by the auctioneer after some personal inspections. <"Ten,"> the vocoded voice snaps, causing one of the helpful droids to skitter off with a glass case that looks to contain mud-covered bolts of fabric. A moment later, an access door opens more widely to admit a hoverlift. <"We apologize for the brief delay. The next item up for bid is of only the highest grade. Straight from Thyferra, a pallet of Bacta. Enough to completely fill a tank four times over. Why waste your time on Kolto, when you can have the best?"> This does cause a small stir as potential bidders steal words aside with each other. <"The bidding will start at-">
"Thirty-thousand credits!" Cortuk mal'Manno jumps the gun, and the withering stare of droid sensor arrays sends him halfway into his armor.
<"Thirty-thousand credits, which Cortuk mal'Manno has so expeditiously met. Do we hear more?"> The chain running from nose to ear shifts softly against metal 'skin' as the auctioneer looks for a prospective bidder in the crowd.
"You've a vivid imagination, friend." Xavier doesn't want to think of putting repulsors on his feet. He's already too old to be doing a lot of the stunts he does. Making himself into a sentient rocket is low on the priority list. "I'm surprised you let them go, really. Of all the people I knwo--" as few as those may be "--you are certainly the most fashionable. Granted, that's not saying a lot."
Muri returns victorious only to get a gruff snort of derision. "I hope you're proud of yourself. But you're in luck. Mister Selkie here has offered to accompany you into the Dug cave of whatever you just blew your paycheck on."
Bacta, eh? Xavier dares to look Tamsin's way, a quirk in his expression and a sideways grin wordlessly asks if she plans on bidding.
Ah, finally, well, not finally, the auction had only just started, something the good doctor was interested in. Never one yo turn down the opportunity to supply her clinic, Tamsin lifted her paddle, "Thirty-five." Was that all she was intending to spend? Likely not, but the well-heeled doctor had not studied at the feet of a Muun financier for most of her early days for nothing. Never appear too over eager. She did hold the paddle at the ready, though, in case she needed to bid again.
Bacta's back alright! Rieve looks from the new offering and of course, where else?! But to Tamsin. "Not bad eh? That is the good stuff oui?" He asks, curious indeed as to the benefits of Thyferran bacta over the traditional Kolto. "I've been there once... curious planet." The blue-haired Hapan offers before Xavier's volunteering of him has him quirking a curious brow. A blue brow. Rieve is oh so colour-coordinated. "That sounds rather fun admittedly..." A deft little bow of sorts if offered Muri. "I'm sure that my spritely youth alongside Xavier's..." He pauses, grins, takes but a moment to eye the 'aging' Morellian. "... experience will lead to great success."
"How little do you think I earn...?" Netep gives Xavier a dubious side-eye upon her return, upper lip curled into a trademark smirk. "This is small change." She holds up her little chit indicating ownership, to be traded for goods at auction's end. And it disappears promptly down the neckline of that silken tunic, nestled into a place that few dare tread. Maintaining that sly little crook of a smile, she turns eyes upon the younger Hapan and lets her own eyes - what's the color today, yellow? - embark on a leisurely once-over of his person. "'Spritely', mm?" Dimples form in her cheeks, smile broadening into a grin, which she passes carelessly to Xavier. "He is *much* younger than you." Possibly half her own age, but the space gypsy is forever young at heart.
Thyferra, though...that's *still* a bit of a contentious topic in Muri's mind. The explosive final days of Shadowport and Zhu Yan, former employer, and whathaveyou. Bacta for a meager 30k? She slides a look toward Tamsin, raven brows perched high upon her forehead.
A counter-bid from the Doctor stirs up more whispering back and forth, a non-zero number of people in the hall knowing Doctor Tamsin Cas by reputation, if not by actual medical assistance. The auto-bidding Ortolan looks to the lift full of barrels, then back to the Doctor. His elongated nose flares for a moment and he starts to raise his paddle, before a quick shake of the head is offered by someone next to his original seat. Sheaking his own head, Cortuk mal'Manno does not raise the price. Nor do any of the others. It wouldn't be right, whether morally or optically.
<"Going once. Going twice."> Janice nods to Tamsin, another familiar face this evening. <"Sold, for thirty-five thousand credits, to Doctor Cas."> There's a nod, and a droid begins to come center to wait for Tamsin when it is signaled by the auctioneer and it moves further back to meet Tamsin without her having to come to the front of the hall. <"And now... The piece that I believe many of you have come for. Some... Just to see it...">
In the back, the figure in the Heavy Power Armor rises, moving up the Southern wall, where at the front the case is handed to a large Draft droid, who takes the case, climbs the stairs of the stage and meets Janice in the middle.
<"Some perhaps wish to own it."> J4N-1C3 opens the case, lifting from it a polearm with keen, jagged blades on either end of the red haft. <"The vibro-arbir. The twin blades."> With a small twist of her articulated wrists, the blades part, now two jagged cutting implements - one in each hand. <"The pinnacle of vibro technology, they are known to be able to parry even the mighty lightsaber. Elegant."> Janice's hands come back together, twisting in reverse to join the blades once more. <"Deadly. Superior. The client has stipulated a reserve price, under which it will not be sold. As such, we are starting the bidding at that reserve price. One million, four-hundred thousand credits.">
"ONE-" The Ortolan is quick to shut up before raising his paddle. For a moment, it is the only sound in the hall. Apart from the hum and crackle as Janice toggles the weapon, angry red filaments coming to life along the lengths of the blades. The man in Heavy Power Armor makes his way as quietly as he can back down the southern wall as a hasty retreat is beaten toward the Foyer and the swampy exterior of the Auction Hall, though it freezes in an archway to look long back to the stage before continuing out.
It has been playful banter up until now mixed with some of his signature antagonism. Xavier is a bastard as heart but can at least be charming when he wants to be. All of that is dropped when the last item brings a hush to the crowd. Xavier's eyes harden, the cig dangling from his lips as he watches intensely as a figure in power armor brings the weapon forth.
No retort to his companions. No. No, he's focusing on something. All the more difficult to do when the crowd starts chattering away in 360 surround sound. He does his best to block it out, predatory gaze never leaving that figure.
It's warm and humid in this auction house. That could be why beads of sweat form on his impressive forehead. A facial muscle twitches, tightens, narrows his eyes.
Then it is gone. A shake of his head and Xavier growls low to himself. "Interesting."
Rieve winces at the mention of vibro-technology being known to parry lightsabers, there's a slow shake of his head, and yet a most admiring glance is given. "Oh if only... way beyond my purse, but it always would be." A warm sigh is offered, a lingering glance given that exquisite piece of weaponry. "I speak as someone who wields such weapons, although not as exotic as that piece... but should anyone every encounter a fabled lightsaber and its wielder, I would recommend not turning your million credit vibro-weapon into molten chunks... but that is just me." A smile is offered the droid, a friendly smile, a helpful smile, but most importantly... a delightfully gap-toothed Hapan smile. That price? That's about... two years of energetic services to various clients at the fullest extent of his pricing range, perhaps even two and a half years. Exhausting! Dance lessons are truly exhausting. The Hapan can dream, such dreams! Such exotic Hapan dreams.
Muri's curiosity about the passing of the blades and the weapons themselves is far less intense. "Mm, yes, yet another 'fancy' way in which people can maim one another..." says the woman who, just twenty years ago, would blow chunks at the sight of a dead body. Look how far she's come, standing in present company. "*That*...would be all of my savings," a little aside to Xavier - a bit of a stretch, too, since she's got just three-quarter of a mil to her name now, in cold credits, excluding assets. And whatever words were meant to follow fall silent as she catches his *look*.
Lorrdians are masters of the teensie nuances of body language, kinetic communication, are they not? Muri's linguistic abilities goes well beyond the vocal. She *knows* that look.
Her belly grows cold.
Ah. What had the doctor said? These auctions always revolved around martial pursuits, and the reveal of the blades, not unknown to the doctor, though nothing in her expression directly made note of that, did receive an intense look, as she rose from her seat. Not the only one of course, and she was not so short that she needed to borrow someone's shoulders. Still, it was nice to have a better view of the blades as they were being displayed. Not a bid was offered, however, and the doctor reclaimed her seat.
The hubbub intensifies and several paddles begin to rise, only to be intercepted by others sitting nearby who may have more effective recollections of their friends financial states. The commotion grows until Janice's voice rings out, punctuated with the raising of the polearm. <"The ability to parry a lightsaber is a mechanical certainty. Your ability to put the arbir in position to do so is entirely dependent on your own skill. And perhaps luck."> The arbir is lowered, the power toggled to return the blade-edging filaments to their inert state.
<"It seems that, of all those who have come today... None have come with a serious line of credit. As such, it appears this sale will go unconcluded, and the weapon shall be returned to its owner until such time as a sale is negotiated."> The weapon is slipped back into the case, and suddenly someone wearing a Nal Hutta guard uniform lunges for the stage, though they freeze in place as the Draft droid wheels on them, glowing red eyes and looming frame enough to stop the would-be-thief in their tracks.
<"Any attempts to steal items rightfully purchased will be met with swift punishment."> The secretary droid hovers closer to the now-withering guard. <"Any attempt to steal client property, as well."> With a nod, two other guards take the guard by each arm and begin dragging him down the central aisle. <"Our auction is now concluded. Tell people what you saw here today. Surely, the next auction will prove more exciting. Get your credits in order and keep your eyes open."> Janice turns and begins to walk to the back of the stage, where another door is opening. She is followed by the Draft droid, who now carries the encased Vibro-arbir. She pauses once more, and turns back to the stirring crowd.
<"And, of course... Thank you to our Hutt Lords for blessing us with the opportunity to bring these wonderful items to you. It is through their magnanimity that our efforts are possible."> And then, the droid is gone, vanishing into the shadows on the other side of the door and behind the bulky frame of the Draft droid. Droid assistants hurry to make certain their claim cards and relevant information have been collected, as the sold goods are put into safekeeping for when the purchasers will be parting with their new-found belongings.
Xavier tosses his nub of a cig into the crowd and turns to go, having bought nothing but definitely leaving with something. "Keep in touch if you're serious about spelunking. If what she bought isn't utter junk," he says to Rieve and regards to Netep as he intends to leave with something on his mind. As he does, he passes Tamsin with a glance. "Good to see you again," is all he offers then does that thing he does so well and slips into the crowd.
Rieve Selki offers a bow to the departing Janice, swift, crisp, martial, and utterly stylin'. A sweep of his hand through that awesome blue hair of his, and Rieve grins at those so gathered. "A delight, truly." And so the crisply attired Hapan takes his leave, sauntering stylishly, as is his way.
"He's a bad eye for true value," Muri informs Rieve with a very similar tone and then dashes off in the opposite direction, following an abbreviated headnod of recognition to the good doctor Tamsin. Muri's destination? Well, she might be in pursuit of that green-haired droid.
Tamsin, having seen the auction through to its conclusion, and come away with at least one item, the most important one, in her personal estimation, rose as the rest of the crowd began to disperse. She did not depart immediately, but, rather, waited until most of the hall had cleared, before she would retrieve the prize which she had won. She kept the paddle, seemingly having entirely forgotten that she was carrying it. Who didn't like a souvenir?
