nexus_crossings | (no dupes) Too many sweets. Just. Too many.

Current Mood: aggravated
Current Location: The Plaza
Current Music: The Imperial Suite

(no dupes) Too many sweets. Just. Too many.

After the weapons' test on Jedha was a great success, that night (or what passes as "night" on the Death Star) Krennic is en route to his personal quarters to do a little private celebration. Technically, he throws a party in the officers' lounge, the one for high-ranking officers (although of course the petty officers and tech people are welcome to celebrate in their own lounges), but he avoided coming there right now since he heard that the Grand Moff is there, stealing his spotlight. Krennic knows that he can't possibly avoid him forever, but a drink or two from his own personal collection, and he would be gold dealing with his archrival and the bane of his existence. However, when he exited the turbolift to his level, he came out in a...strange place instead of the usual corridor with stormtroopers patrolling through it.

He ended up in the Plaza of the Nexus. He was first confused, then irritated, and started asking around (demanding more like) about where in the stars he is, and got the same explanation. Krennic couldn't really accept it, thinking that this was some sort of a weird dream or a holographic prank someone played on him (most likely Tarkin, to keep him out from his own party celebrating his own greatness), but while he is still in the phase of denial, a random someone foisted him with a bag of sweets, telling him "Happy Halloween" and left before Krennic could accost him, and then another, and then another. In the end, he ended up with too much sweets--foreign sweets that he had never even seen before--his hands full of it, and what's worse, one of those idiots who forcefully gave him that told him that he had a nice costume. They think he was dressing up for this weird "Halloween" event, whatever the kriff it is.

He should probably sit down, or drop all the sweets, or better yet, throw them to somebody's face since that's how infuriated Krennic is right now, but as it stands, he's currently standing in the middle of the plaza with hands full of sweets. Someone please help him.

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"What do you want? They pretty much serve anything here..." Harley hands him an extensive menu. "And don't worry about paying. I got it covered."

"There is a Nexus terminal near the doors, where you can exchange your currency, for one that is used around the Nexus. I will show it to you later." And she has not decided about telling him about the other vending machines yet. Especially regarding the one with the Nexus PINpoints.

"You make it sound like I would judge a person on their age." Harley teases him right back. "But from the sounds of it, he just might die of shock if I showed up and offered to 'de-stress' him." She makes air quotes with her fingers.

He took the menu that she offered, looking over it, frowning because nothing sounds familiar to him. Well, certain things sounds like some things he knows, but Krennic isn't sure if it's quite the same thing. At least there is a fair variation in the menu. He looked at her, smiling slightly. "Why don't you suggest something to me? Since you're the one paying. And of course, you don't have to worry about it, I will pay you back later." he tilted his head, just the merest hint of suggestion in his voice, but mostly teasing. "In however way you want, Harley."

Then the waitress shows up with their drinks, and Krennic took his drink and sipped it gratefully, but still listened to her explanation about how this Nexus place works. "I see. So they do have their own currency. I'd guessed that."

He had to smile at what she said next, with just the merest hint of cruelty and loathing to it. He did hate Tarkin. Even more so now thinking about him stealing his spotlight in the celebration party, even if time did freeze while Krennic was here. He'd probably end the party early too. That old man did love ruining his fun. "Oh, of course that is not my intention, but he is an old man. I didn't know how he gained the Emperor's trust, but I'm planning to take his place. After I found another way to get rid of him, of course. Or gain control of the Death Star." he smirked, more relaxed now after having a little alcohol in his system. The whiskey doesn't quite taste right, but it was better than nothing. "He probably will. And good riddance," he said, tilting his head to look at her. "Of course, you can always do better..."

It is nice timing when the waitress comes back with their drinks. Harley orders a nacho platter (her favorite) and a large all dressed pizza, with cheese-stuffed crust. She just hopes that her guest will appreciate the food, when it comes.

"In whatever way I want. Deal." He just made a deal with the devil. Poor boy.

"A lot of places do accept other currency. There are also lots of places that will gladly barter for their goods. The shops here seem to get it... that people coming here might not have the Nexus currency available."

And she knows that he likely has another offer for her, when he looks at her and tells her that she could do better. And so she stretches one arm up to rest around his neck, while tilting her head to look at him better. "You got someone special in mind?"

He will appreciate real food either way, because as he said, living from eating ration bars and drinking nutritious milk is no life at all. Of course, as a high-ranking senior officer, Krennic has special privileges, which is why he said he'd only done that for the past couple of days instead of forever, but it's still generally frowned upon in the Empire, and thus, like everyone else, he tried to keep face. Although he generally doesn't care. He only raised an eyebrow when she ordered the food, but otherwise was distracted.

Distracted by her. Her proximity, to be exact. He still thinks her makeup and costume was pretty much hideous (Krennic appreciates minimalism, not a riot of colour), and her criminal background gave him a pause, not to mention that he had just arrived here--even if he is king of bad decisions and is attracted to her to some degree, hooking up with your guide is probably just about the worst idea you can think of--but Krennic was distracted, either way. She was so...loose, so free, and he doesn't mean it in a bad way. Most of the men and women in the Imperial Military were so stiff, and they were usually just glad for the chance to sleep with a superior officer, mostly for a favour or to advance their way up the rung. It was of course technically illegal and highly frowned upon, but it happens, and he's guilty as charged.

"But," he said, holding up a finger, smiling slightly, trying to get his head out of the gutter. "I have a choice to accept or refuse, when payback time comes. Deal?"

He's not completely stupid or as naive to absolutely trust someone he just met, especially not a pretty girl who used to work in a circus, and a criminal on the run at that. Krennic didn't climb all the way up to where he is right now by being trusting and naive.

"You should have told me that, so I could treat you instead," he said, still lightly teasing her. "No, I'm joking, since you're my guide, please feel free to treat me." he's planning to outdo her later, of course, with his "payback". He was thinking dinner, or something, but that sounds so...romantic. And they're practically strangers, plus they're not like that. He got distracted by this train of thought when Harley rested an arm around his neck, casually, taking a closer look at him, her gaze...inviting. Krennic swallowed, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"No," he lied through his teeth. "Not really. Do you?"

And to Harley, Krennic is very different than most other people she hangs out with. He seems very put together. But she knows he has his demons. Who doesn't.

Harley has to laugh when he makes the point about having a choice to accept or refuse. "Sweetheart, don't worry. I would never force you to do anything you don't want to do. I have been on that side of the coin. It ain't fun."

When he decides not to venture bravely at her last question, Harley smiles all the same. "I have all sorts of special friends. It is nice to know that there are people who I can just be me around... ya'know?"

Confidence is easy to fake, and Krennic is the sort of person who would fake it til he makes it. That pretty much sums up his entire life. And he probably knows that she knows about his demons by now, since he had divulged to her not only his recent achievement (which is classified information) but also his personal feelings towards his boss, and also how easy it is to destroy a planet from space from onboard the Star of Death. Things like that. Good bonding moment.

He was surprised at that, though. For a moment he seemed to be at loss for words. Then he remembered that people usually showed sympathy of sorts when someone else said something like that. "That's good," he ventured. "I won't think it's fun either. And...I'm sorry to hear that."

It sounds genuine enough, at least. Krennic's a little out of practise, but he kind of likes her (sexual attraction aside) so it was a little genuine. Sort of.

"Yes, I know," he said, pulling away from her just to finish his drink in a large gulp. "I used to have one. A very special friend indeed."

"It wasn't that bad. I wasn't the only one in the situation. And I was the first one to be freed..." It was the one moment that she was glad for Mistah J. He saved her from having Waller control her for the rest of her life.

She bats her eyes up at him, when he mentions that he once had a very special friend. Emphasis on the special. "What happened?"

Krennic motions for the nearest waitress to refill his drink, then returned his gaze to her. "That why you said they were out looking for you, guns blazing?" her situation sounded more complex than he previously thought, or so it seems. Then again, criminals are really good at playing the pity fiddle. Krennic out of all people knows that best. He drums his gloved fingers impatiently on the table before leaning back on his seat again, returning to his former position with Harley.

"Oh, it's complicated," Krennic growled. Standard response. "I don't really want to talk about it. But we were something, years ago when we were students together. Then..." he trailed off, shrugging. "He was a genius, you see. I needed his expertise for my weapon. But he wouldn't do it."

"Oh no... that is not why the guns were blazing. My team goes on difficult missions all the time. And we were in the middle of a small fight, and I rolled through a door for more cover, and ended up here..."

She raises an eyebrow at the growling. "He didn't want to live for you? Shame."

"So you're a fighter," Krennic said, trying to place her. Here he thought she was probably just a wanted criminal, or something like that. And it's clear that she wore her demons on her sleeve, too. But now he's processing all the bits and pieces of information that Harley has told him so far, only interrupted when his drink was refilled, and once more he took a grateful sip of it. He could get used to the taste. "I like that." he told her, smiling. "What about your team? Are they like you? What kind of people are they?"

His expression darkens again when they return to the topic of Galen, and he took another large gulp of his whiskey. "It was more than that," he said, a little anger making its way into his voice. "He loves his dead wife and his kriffing pacifism more than me, or helping me achieve my rightful place in the Empire," Krennic spat out. "Good thing my Death Troopers shot his wife. She shot me too, that little bitch." there was a pause, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "So I wanted a little distraction, if you get what I mean. And if you don't mind."

"We are sort of like a rag-tag team of mercenaries for hire. Mostly, we work for the government, when they have a difficult assignment. Which is why they call us the 'Suicide Squad'." Harley explains.

"We all have our own special abilities. It can be an interesting time."

She listens careful when he speaks of the other man. "Getting shot hurts." That was her two cents to the conversation.

Then she arches an eyebrow. "I am not distracting enough for ya?"

"So they sent you out to die?" Krennic said, dryly. It's not hard to tell, from what she told him. "Your government seems impractical. We had the stormtrooper corps for that," he said, sipping his drink, waiting for the food. "They did the dirty work. The Navy did the rest."

His interest perked up at special abilities, though. After all, he's not in the Advanced Weapons Research Division without good reason. "Special abilities? Like what? Are you genetically engineered?" he paused, studying her again, this time with a scientist's eye. A weapons' engineer's eyes. "I created a squad of genetically engineered soldiers. We have yet to manage to create special abilities, but perhaps if the Emperor didn't kill all the Jedi..." he pressed his lips together, knowing that it's heresy to speak against the Emperor, and at the same time remembering someone else, who's...unclear if he's dead or alive, but clearly had special abilities. "Anyway, I know someone who had special abilities," he shuddered. "Not personally, anyway. I heard he chokes officers to death without touching them, if they displeased him in some way."

A pause fell between them, a serious one. "Yeah," Krennic said, hand instinctively going to his right shoulder. It was the one where Lyra had shot him. "It still hurts, sometimes. Needs a lot of bacta to be healed properly."

He was clearly glad for the topic change, and put down his drink on the table, pulling her closer by the waist. "You're plenty distracting enough for me, darling. That's the thing."

"They figure no one would miss us, if we die." Harley tells him frankly. "Guess my team would be the equivalent of your stormtroppers."

She nods at his next question. "Oh hell yeah I am. I have all sorts of nice things in my bag of tricks."

Like how she is matching him drink to drink, but doesn't seem affected at all.

When he pulls her closer by the waist, Harley shifts her position, so she is practically sitting in his lap. "Good or bad thing?"

"Yes, I suppose so," he said, not really interested in this conversation anymore. "The stormtroopers served their purpose, though. We all play our part in the Imperial War machine."

Although it is definitely hard to concentrate on all the talk about war and death and weapons, what's with her on his lap and her proximity...and she's so different from all the women Krennic has been with, especially in the Imperial military. It reminded him of when he was young in the Futures Program, but even then all the girls--and boys--were so dedicated, so...ambitious. Just like him. But they were all so stiff, too. He was precisely attracted to Galen because he had been different, and now he was similarly attracted to Harley--sexually--because she was so different, too. He laughed at what she said next. "Oh, so that's what you mean when you say that I don't want to be at the receiving end of your tricks. Good one, darling."

He doesn't quite notice that, just a bit--too busy distracted by her and her proximity and the closeness of their bodies. The waitress arrived bringing their food, but Krennic doesn't seem to notice, either, and she quickly scurries away, not wanting to disturb them.

"Good thing, definitely," Krennic purrs, smiling invitingly. This is a bad, bad decision. But he's pretty much the king of bad decisions.

[[ ooc: should we like...take this elsewhere cos this is getting frisky and idk the rules for that lmao ]]

And Harley is the queen of bad decisions. And there is a long moment of silence, as she just stares at him, deciding if this particular bad decision is one that she wants to follow up with.

Then without reason, she laughs. And then moves off his lap, to sit beside him again. It is time to try to do the right thing.

"Food is here, darling. Ya gotta try this pizza!"

Oh, yes, there is definitely that moment where they stared at each other--not exactly amorously or invitingly--as they tried to determine whether or not this particular bad decision is something they wanted to follow all the way to the finish line, or at least halfway through. It was obvious that Harley faced the same dilemma as him. Krennic was a little relieved--although also annoyed--when she moves off his lap, and the waitress arrived with their food, just looking a little bit miffed because she thought she had interrupted a moment. Krennic wanted to snort at that.

"I think I've eaten something like this before," he said, picking up one of the pizza and observed it closely. "But that was years ago. It looks..." he looked at it, trying to determine whether or not it's going to be good. His gut feeling said so, so he took a bite. "Tasty. Sort of. But also weird."

It was not like Harley wasn't attracted to him. She was just trying to be a better person. One day at a time.

Maybe she could actually learn about a guy, before getting intimate with anyone.

"Have you?" Harley smiles softly. "Glad you like it."

And it wasn't like Krennic wasn't particularly attracted to her, either. But they could at least agree on that: they could at least try to get to know each other better before getting intimate, although this particular song and dance was something that he had done a million times before. Regardless, with her, he can sense that...well, it was better to know what he was getting into, so to speak. And he still can't quite place her just yet, even if it was obvious that the attraction between them was mutual.

"Yes, I think I like this," Krennic said, eating the entirety of that pizza. Stars, he never realised just how hungry he is. How could they live off ration bars and nutritious milk? At least he now had more privilege for real food. Still, he had never tasted anything quite like this before. It reminded him of his younger days in Brentaal. "What do you call this, Harley? Do you have this in your world? What about the other one?" he gestured towards the nachos.

Harley meanwhile is enjoying the nachos. She likes watching as the cheese pulls when she picks up one of the chips. And trying to claim a chip with a lot of stuff on it.

"You are eating pizza. The nice thing about pizza is that you can customize it in a number of ways. That one is an all dressed."

"And these are nachos."

Krennic is like a little boy in a candy shop, even if he's not that passionate about food (he's more passionate about superweapons, architecture, and his own achievements, among other things), but who could resist the lure of exotic food? He used to try a lot of those, back during his school days in the Futures Program, to the point where Galen had to bail him out of the hospital for eating the wrong thing and drinking too much alcohol. He's enjoying the pizza, and he stole the chip that has a lot of cheese, right out from Harley's hand...and into his mouth. He laughs. "Sorry about that, Harley," he grins. "I guess you have to pick another."

He listened to what she said about pizza, though, and was sufficiently interested. "So you can pretty much put anything on top of it? Anything at all?"

She arches an eyebrow when he steals the chip right from her hand. He is brave. She has to give him that. His laughter makes it all better.

"I am sure you could. There are dessert pizzas after all."

"Dessert pizzas?" Krennic asked, feeling smug after his recent victory over her. "You have to tell me all about it."

In the meanwhile, he's going to snag a couple more chips. Please don't mind him.

"Yep. Instead of bread dough, you use a cookie dough, or cookie crust, and then layer on your toppings."

"We could order one for dessert!" Because he seems hungry.

"That sounds...interesting," he told her, a little busy eating his pizza now. He IS hungry, and real food is always a treat when you're in the Imperial Military. At what she said next, he stopped eating for a moment to look at her and smile, a genuine one. "Yes. If you want to. It's your treat, after all, Harley."

She doesn't seem to mind that he is hogging all the food. It is nice to see him happy. And that is the most important thing.

"Then one dessert pizza coming right up." She waves the waitress over to get the order in.

(no dupes) Too many sweets. Just. Too many.

Mistah K has a nice ring to it

or Director Daddy

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