#pretty sure ucevi sent fynta to the medcenter

[cinlat]

Septangst 30: Kalopsia

Previous drabbles: Hiraeth | Sharp | Abandon | Twinge | Torrent  | Rift  | Threads | Exhausted | Scintilla | Irrational

So I’ve been crazy busy lately and missed a lot of the prompts that I really wanted to write. Maybe I still will, but now we’re moving into whumptober. Anyway, so enjoy this little peek at how Sith Fynta ended up with her iconic tattoo.

Thank you all for reading along as I fleshed out Sith Fynta’s backstory, and to Tish, @kunoichi-ume​ @dingoat​ and @sleepswithvillains​ for letting me borrow their lovely characters to do so.

Word Count: 566 Guest Appearance: @tishinada​‘s Ucevi

The needle bit into Fynta’s flesh again, and she giggled. It was a strange sound, not one that she’d heard before, but Fynta had enough presence of mind to know that it was definitely hers. The Miralukan’s lips twitched, but he didn’t speak. Somewhere in the back of Fynta’s mind, Verin roared with laughter, though she knew that wasn’t real.

Colorful dots danced against the wall in time with a beat that Fynta felt, but couldn’t hear. She watched them, vaguely aware of the whirring and steady jab of tiny spikes into her cheek. The Miralukan sniffed, and Fynta was caught by how symmetrical the studs below his eyes were. She wanted to touch them but knew that would be taboo. Somehow, she knew that those lines, the beautiful additions to his eyeless features, were the reason that she’d chosen him for the job.

The door swished open, a pleasing sound that let in the music from across the street, making the lights more vibrant now that Fynta heard their rhythm. “What the fuck?” Those deep tones resonated in Fynta, and she grinned at her Sith Blooded friend.

Ucevi stormed forward with one hand gesturing wildly between the man with the bejeweled cheeks and Fynta. They were arguing, but the undertones reminded Fynta of an old war song that her father once sang, and she began humming along.

The Miralukan snorted and rolled back from Fynta’s chair. “Too late. Pay up, and get her out of my parlor.”

Muttering, Ucevi tucked one strong arm behind Fynta’s back to help her sit up. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Fynta’s grin felt lopsided, and she couldn’t resist the urge to run her fingers along Ucevi’s brow stalks. They were soft and fierce, like the woman who wore them. Absolutely beautiful. Fynta’s fingers drifted to the piercings that Ucevi had recently gotten, and her grin widened. “We match.”

“Not quite.” A hint of amusement with equal touches of exasperation slipped into Ucevi’s voice as she hauled Fynta over to the mirror. “Mine are removable.”

Fynta blinked at her reflection, now altered by the brilliant blue pigment encircling her right eye. She squinted, turning her head from one side to the other. “Shab.” The color matched her eyes, which looked glassy and wide with excitement. Her face was flush from the adrenaline of...something Fynta didn’t remember. Finally, she nodded and lifted a thumb to her blind artist. “Masterful work, my friend.”

Sighing, Ucevi pulled Fynta towards the door with assurances that she’d paid the tattooer. “You didn’t go to the medcenter, did you?”

The woman’s accusation fell short of its mark when Fynta caught sight of the sky. It was black velvet with lightning sparks of color from the buildings surrounding her. She sighed, enjoying the pleasant sense of wellbeing. “Sure did.” Granted, it had been a local man selling kolto out of the back of his speeder; Fynta had never trusted the medcenters on Dromund Kaas. She’d need to recommend him to some of the others. The quality was much better than anything the Empire offered.

“You’re stoned,” Ucevi countered while Fynta curled herself around the other woman’s body. She should tell the Sith Blood how lovely that material looked against her skin, maybe suggest some ideas for what to do with it, but Ucevi spoke over her. “Come on, that hangover is going to be a bitch.”