Chapter Text
There was something so intoxicating about the atmosphere of the Outlander Club. Especially when it was late in the night and Delios was sure he was well past the threshold of soberness. After all, he was completely stationary, leaning heavily against the bar counter with a drink clasped in his hand. Yet he still felt as though he were swaying to the loud music. He could feel an unfortunate headache creeping in as well as a deep-seated feeling of nausea, only furthering the more he tried to get himself to drink. What else had he done that night other than finally rise from his bed at some hotel just to walk himself here and spend even more money? Gambling away credits and giving up after it became increasingly apparent that it was not his strong suit.
Bitterly, his eyes rest on the robotic arm that held tightly onto the glass. No matter how long he’d have to deal with it, he would never get used to it. Not being able to feel the condensation on his fingertips as his thumb traced over the rim. It was explained to him when it was attached, how it used brainwaves or something to move just as it would his regular arm. Though there were still times when he felt out of place with it. Like waking up and having to deal with the sudden awareness of how uncomfortable the material was pressed flush to his skin – though in some spots he was lucky, with scar tissue bordering the replacements which only made it a little more bearable. If Delios’ mind dwelled on it for too long it would almost make him nauseous.
He frowned, pulling “his” arm back and shoving his hand into his pocket. It was well into the night but the atmosphere was still as lively. Maybe the crowd seemed denser as well, various people weaving in and out of this constantly moving mass. Everyone was in their own world, sharing words with strangers they may never see again, but at the same time, they almost felt like one organism. Something he felt excluded from as he stood at the outskirts, but almost compelled to join. Whether it was the music or the lights or the amount of chatter, Delios couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he walked forwards to embrace it, feeling some sort of solace in the chaos.
The crowd swept him away in its grasp, allowing him to become part of it all. Of the conversations and slurred words that were shared with harsh laughter, a mix of languages that he knew and some he couldn’t even recognize. All of it was an attack on his senses but one he enjoyed. The feeling of being so lost and clueless yet almost at home was therapeutic in a way. Allowing him to let go and try and forget whatever he’d been worrying about before. There wasn’t any room in his mind to think of much else. Just focusing on keeping his feet steady, navigating through this labyrinth, and trying to catch fleeting glimpses of these people’s lives. Piece them together in some messy work of mental patchwork, maybe even find the tail end of some story that passed by him.
As quickly as it started, it was over. His almost giddy stream of thought was interrupted by stumbling into someone. Delios’ eyes fought to stay open as he stepped back, quickly reaching up to press a weary hand to the nape of his neck.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
The person in front of him turned around to look at him. Long, curly hair in their face as she took a moment to register the words. She laughed, leaning forwards to speak to Delios. Trying to fight the noise of the crowd.
“You’re alright, hun,” Her voice was smooth, a smile playing on their face.
Delios looked at her, almost dumbfounded. His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach forwards and touch the sparkles that reflected the bright lights off her cheeks.
“Mhm,” he managed, nodding. His eyes still focused on the makeup that was painted neatly across her face. “Your name?”
Her eyebrows raised in surprise as if it was such a novel thing to act someone you’d just bumped into. And maybe it was here. Maybe it was better to leave this place without the name of the person you’d just been entangled with.
They echoed it back to Delios, watching him nod. By the looks of it, she was a dancer of sorts. At least from how she was dressed, as well as the bright makeup.
“Louise,” She settled on after a few beats. He was sure that wasn’t her real name, but he held onto it anyways.
Delios nodded, trying to smile back at her. Though it most likely came off as more of a grimace. He would’ve said something about her name. Maybe how pretty it sounded, and in that way it fit her. But of course, nothing came to mind and nothing seemed to want to come out. All he felt was the overwhelming urge to lean over and hurl. It was so warm in the middle of everything. His adrenaline had worn off as well, now making him anxious to be with so many people. “Louise” must have recognized this, as they reached out to take his arm.
She began to guide him away from the bulk of the crowd. “You don’t look so good,” said she, glancing over her shoulder. “Here. Let me get you water.”
Once again, Delios simply nodded. Anytime he tried to speak it seemed he was fighting his body to obey. All that come out was a hum. Something to acknowledge the kind person who strangely took a very quick liking to him. If he had any critical thinking skills available, that weren’t wrecked from the alcohol in his system, he’d know something was up. Delios simply let himself be sat at a booth. Let the dancer speak kindly and lovingly to him as she handed him a glass of water.
After Delios had taken a few large sips from it and felt a little less nauseous, Louise began speaking again.
“You’re not from around here, I can tell. You’d know a little better than to be in such a state in this club. Stumbling around like that is an open invitation to pickpocketers, especially with such an expensive-looking coat,” Louise’s eyes were clouded with some emotion as she spoke, though her face was still painted with a pretty smile. He nodded and glanced down at the glass in front of him.
“I’m surprised no one has decided to try and take my arm from me, sell it for parts,” Delios tentatively laughed, looking up at Louise after a moment... Who seemed a little lost. “It’s not my arm. Like... Flesh and blood. It’s like droid parts.”
“Oh!” Their expression lifted as Delios moved to bring his arm up, pulling his sleeve down a little. Louise laughed, “Got it now. I was about to say, sure it’s not ideal here but it isn’t that bad.”
Delios shrugged, leaning back in the booth. His eyes were heavy but he still tried to entertain a conversation. Maybe to make her laugh again, just so he could feel a little better about his situation. So far it seemed the dancer didn’t mind the offputting part of his face that had been replaced with droid parts. Luckily he hadn’t sustained as much damage from the accident on the upper half of his body.
The longer he sat there, listening to Louise speak to him and giving responses when they felt it was appropriate, the more he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. The more his world seemed to spin, eventually, he stopped trying to hold down more water. Before Delios could stand himself up and thank Louise for it all, she was at his side. Holding an arm across his back and worriedly looking up at him. Though Delios could still see something off with her gaze. It was in the eyes. Their dark eyes glittered with something that could match perfectly with a judging scowl. He wanted to recoil and kindly tell her that he could walk to his hotel on his own, but they were insistent. Letting Delios lean heavily against her as they walked.
Time seemed to move by too fast or too slow, they were in the club one second and out the door the next. The street felt as if it stretched on forever. Like he was stuck in some sort of time loop, forever waiting to just lay down in bed and sleep off what had just come over him. At one point he must have leaned and thrown up whatever was in his gut, but whoever this Louise person was didn’t leave him. She continued to walk with him, insisting on it. So Delios tried his best to give directions from what he could see in the brightly lit scape of the Uscru District which seemed to melt and blend together before him.
Eventually, Louise helped him sit down on the cheap bed of the hotel he’d bought a room in. The place had almost been his home for the past few weeks. He was sure the owners of the place were getting tired of it, but he was paying. So they couldn’t complain too much. Delios removed his jacket by himself, thankful that Louise had stepped back at that point. Still staying to make sure that he laid down and got taken care of. Out of the kindness of her heart? Surely not. They might’ve expected something in return, payment in credits or for Delios to owe the dancer something.
“I don’t have anything to give you,” he mumbled, shaking his head and pressing a hand to his mouth. Waves of nausea and pain followed any sort of movement he made. Like he’d sustained a serious fall or hit to the head, but he hadn’t done much of anything but lay down and drink.
“What?”
Delios glanced up to her, feeling as if just doing that was a chore. “I don’t have anything to give you. Credits, or whatever. I don’t have a way of income, what I have is what I have.”
The dancer seemed confused. She looked at Delios with a perplexed expression, that underlying darkness in her eyes seemed to leave in that second. “That’s fine. I don’t expect anything. You got worse so quickly, I wasn’t sure it would’ve been safe to leave you alone.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Louise tilted her head.
Delios laid down, pressing his hand to his forehead. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect that. I figured you were going to steal from me or something, or demand I give you credits or what I had.” The blond man glanced over at Louise, looking at them in the dim light of the room. Her makeup seemed less neat and carefully done now. Smudged and hastily retouched multiple times. Drowsiness and nausea still plagued him, making it increasingly harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
“If I’m going to be honest,” Louise smiled. “I know who you are. I
was
going to steal from you–”
“–What?”
“I’m not finished,” She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips in a thin line afterward. The playfulness of her actions before seemed to ware off a little. “It’s hard to make money just through the club. I had to pick up bartending as well, but that’s not my favorite thing either. So say someone like you comes in, I expect you to be all shitty and arrogant. You look like you’re wealthy. Like you’ve got it all figured out.”
Delios’ eyes were closed again, but he knew Louise had sat on the bed near the end. He was listening, he tried to let her know. But his consciousness was slipping. Like his body had taken a collective sigh of relief at being able to lie down. Though his head still roared with pain.
“I did feel like I recognized you from somewhere. Not sure where now. Maybe a podracer. Unimportant,” She paused for a moment. The weight of her body left the bed. “A lot of men who are usually a little more on the wealthy side come in and boss the dancers around – to put it lightly – so I do the whole ‘ Oh let me take care of you!’ act, and it works most of the time. Those pigs don’t miss the credits I take, anyways. I think they have too much to begin with to even notice.”
“But you got sick – slipped something, I think, by how quickly it came on – So I’m being nice to you,” Louise smiled playfully again and turned to look at Delios. Though he was fast asleep. She was a little thankful for it. Sure he’d need the rest but if she kept talking, they might have spilt more than she intended.
The dancer stood there for a moment, making sure Delios wasn’t going to say something in return or wake up. She then reached for his coat that he had doffed, fishing around in the pocket for a wallet or something. Once she fished a pouch out of his pocket, they opened it and dumped out a few credits into her hand. Hastily putting the pouch back into the coat pocket and shoving them in her pocket before she quickly left. Not sparing another second. If she stayed any longer she might’ve felt guilty – or guiltier than she felt now. They didn’t even know the name of the man she’d just stolen from. Maybe he’d return and she could get his name then.
“Lorn,” a voice called to her in the dressing room as she got ready to finally go home for the night. She’d sleep well into the afternoon, then come back here and work all night as they’d done for years.
Yeah?” They shouted back.
“How much did you make tonight? I wanna pool our money and go out for dinner before our next shift,” A Twi’lek woman came into Lorn’s field of vision, reflected through the mirror he was sat in front of. The other dancer – Nic’ala was her name – walked over to seat herself next to them. Watching as she cleaned her face. “I heard that place we like on 34th is open again if you’d wanna go.”
Lorn glanced down at her bag, looking down at the uncharacteristically new credits that she’d gotten from Delios. Much different from the ones she was usually tipped with. They smiled a little and nodded, trying to ignore the slight guilty feeling. “Yeah, that’d be fun. I have enough, it’ll be on me.”