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Description
KotOR 2 - Atton/Exile

A slow smile spread over Atton's face as he transferred his cigarra to his mouth and ran his fingers lightly over the keys. The band had called it a night, and Neela, Mira and Bao Dur had gone back to the ship an hour ago. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep - too much on his mind - so he lingered behind. Something about cantinas just relaxed him, like home did for most people. The bartender had tiredly shrugged his apathy when Atton pointed to the instrument, asking if anyone would mind if he tickled the keys a bit.

Songs: their notes, lifts, falls, and place in time came back to him, making his fingertips buzz with familiar anticipation. Maybe that was just the juma, he thought, sinking his fingers down gently into a minor chord. It had been a while. He was bound to be rusty. Lacing his fingers, he inhaled and stretched them, several of his knuckles cracking. He propped the cigarra on the ashtray, then began to play.

He meandered through a few bars before falling into a deceptively upbeat little tune that on closer inspection was about the utter futility of love. It seemed appropriate.

He lost track of time after a while. The bartender kept the juma flowing as the songs flowed one into the next, reflecting his inner dialog. Some part of him eventually realized he was pouring his heart out note by note, and it was a melancholy refrain, the music tinged with both hope and defeat.

“Last call!” The bartender's bark shook him out of his spell.

His fingers fell still, the song unfinished. That was alright, though. It was good to play again. He even felt a little lighter. Of course, that could've been the result of the juma, too.

He put his jacket on and stood, taking a moment to let the subtle spinning of the room slow down before he turned to go. It was near the door that he spotted her, sitting in a dark corner. He stopped in his tracks, staring at her a moment before he shook his head, chuckling softly. Must've taken vigilance for her to keep herself off his radar, he figured, not sure if he was more glad, embarrassed or annoyed.

“How long?” he asked, walking over to her table.

Neela gave him one of those enigmatic smiles that made his knees feel like rubber. “Long enough. I didn't know you played,” she said, getting up.

“I may not advertise them all,” he replied matter-of-factly, “but I'm a man of many talents.”

“And so humble, too,” Neela added, taking his arm and pulling him towards the door.

“You didn't see me playing,” he said as they exited, sending a subtle current of Force out with the statement. It was a joke, of course. No way he could pull a mind trick off on her, especially considering the amount of booze he'd had.

“I didn't see you playing,” she replied in a monotone voice, playing along. “And you're not going to kiss me either.”

He laughed and stopped, pulling her against him. The somber thoughts fell away like parting clouds as he looked into her eyes. Funny how that always happened. “Like hell I'm not.”

Description
KotOR 2 - Atton/Exile

A slow smile spread over Atton's face as he transferred his cigarra to his mouth and ran his fingers lightly over the keys. The band had called it a night, and Neela, Mira and Bao Dur had gone back to the ship an hour ago. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep - too much on his mind - so he lingered behind. Something about cantinas just relaxed him, like home did for most people. The bartender had tiredly shrugged his apathy when Atton pointed to the instrument, asking if anyone would mind if he tickled the keys a bit.

Songs: their notes, lifts, falls, and place in time came back to him, making his fingertips buzz with familiar anticipation. Maybe that was just the juma, he thought, sinking his fingers down gently into a minor chord. It had been a while. He was bound to be rusty. Lacing his fingers, he inhaled and stretched them, several of his knuckles cracking. He propped the cigarra on the ashtray, then began to play.

He meandered through a few bars before falling into a deceptively upbeat little tune that on closer inspection was about the utter futility of love. It seemed appropriate.

He lost track of time after a while. The bartender kept the juma flowing as the songs flowed one into the next, reflecting his inner dialog. Some part of him eventually realized he was pouring his heart out note by note, and it was a melancholy refrain, the music tinged with both hope and defeat.

“Last call!” The bartender's bark shook him out of his spell.

His fingers fell still, the song unfinished. That was alright, though. It was good to play again. He even felt a little lighter. Of course, that could've been the result of the juma, too.

He put his jacket on and stood, taking a moment to let the subtle spinning of the room slow down before he turned to go. It was near the door that he spotted her, sitting in a dark corner. He stopped in his tracks, staring at her a moment before he shook his head, chuckling softly. Must've taken vigilance for her to keep herself off his radar, he figured, not sure if he was more glad, embarrassed or annoyed.

“How long?” he asked, walking over to her table.

Neela gave him one of those enigmatic smiles that made his knees feel like rubber. “Long enough. I didn't know you played,” she said, getting up.

“I may not advertise them all,” he replied matter-of-factly, “but I'm a man of many talents.”

“And so humble, too,” Neela added, taking his arm and pulling him towards the door.

“You didn't see me playing,” he said as they exited, sending a subtle current of Force out with the statement. It was a joke, of course. No way he could pull a mind trick off on her, especially considering the amount of booze he'd had.

“I didn't see you playing,” she replied in a monotone voice, playing along. “And you're not going to kiss me either.”

He laughed and stopped, pulling her against him. The somber thoughts fell away like parting clouds as he looked into her eyes. Funny how that always happened. “Like hell I'm not.”