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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Nov 22, 2011 23:04:04 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Nov 22, 2011 23:04:04 GMT -5
(((I was gonna do a title with a play on the Idiot's Array hand, but then they all sounded like I was calling Pak and Ervisa idiots, so I went with something a bit more more bland. ;p)))
[...from x]
With his passenger already disappearing into the throngs at the Rodian spaceport, Pak Har’endanno took his time in closing up shop. Back inside the cockpit of the Crimson Requiem he finished the shutdown process, turning off all unnecessary systems. All he left running was the security system, which he could activate from outside the hatch. With his baby resting, the Balosar headed aft to get himself ready for debarking for the evening. Pak reached his cabin and shrugged into the jacket he had tossed there earlier, afterwards pulling on his worn and scuffed boots. He looked at his holster belt but decided not to wear it. The fool thing was still empty anyway. Rodia wasn’t exactly like some of the backwater Outer Rim planets he ended up at. Plus, he always had his speed on his side if absolutely needed.
Finding a bottle of indeterminable liquor laying on the floor partway under his bed, he bent and picked it up, taking a swig that emptied it. He sighed and smiled, letting the bottle fall onto his cot before returning to his business of gathering up his credits. Pak scooped them all into a pouch, digging them out of various hidden and not-so-hidden areas of his cabin. Before he fastened it and tucked it in his jacket, he let a couple of the chips run through his fingers, clinking together like beautiful music to the Balosar’s ears. This last job had been a good score, and he planned on making the most of his payday once he left the spaceport.
Finally prepared and dressed for a night out, Pak headed back out and down the landing ramp of his red freighter, closing it up and setting the security lock before he, too, disappeared into the mass of beings swirling around the various docking bays of the spaceport. Generally he didn’t wander too far from where he was berthed for ease of returning back to his ship slightly inebriated. But tonight his spirits were a bit higher than usual, and he felt like walking a bit through the city. He wanted to find someplace to spend his few hours of good feelings before they took a nosedive into his normal depression. Even though he drank to keep his demons at bay, they still would find him at the bottom of his half-dozenth bottle. Most of the time he hoped to be back in his cabin or a rented room by then, but that plan didn’t always work.
He had walked a fair distance when he turned down a street opening into a prospective area. There were bright lights everywhere, shining against the darkening evening sky. The street wasn’t as bustling as some of the areas he had passed by, and Pak could tell that this neighborhood catered to a specific clientele, one that certain Rodians wouldn’t even think about, let alone enter. It was just his kind of place. Cantinas, rent-by-the-hour motels, diners open all night and day, gaming parlors, pawn shops, and everything else that went along with the package. If he ignored how clean the air was and squinted a bit, it almost seemed like one of the better sections of his home planet of Balosar. He made a mental note to check for deathsticks later, thinking his chances were a bit better than other cities he’d been to.
Since he had left the military and had taken all the baggage that came with that, he had had no inclination for the company of a female. Nor was he really much of a gambler, at least with his credits. So Pak found a likely cantina and stepped inside. The sign had been a bit battered, only part of the neon lights showing through, naming the establishment as the Terr--- --et, probably something in the local language, but the Balosar could care less what it meant as long as the place served alcohol.
Crossing the threshold, he found the bar right away and made his way through a small crowd of various beings and found himself an empty stool. He snapped his fingers to gain the Twi’lek bartender’s attention. After the blue-skinned male was finished with other customers, he came up to Pak with a bland look on his face. Either the man was tired, stoned, or just was hiding his surprise at seeing a Balosar in his cantina very well. Pak grinned and took a stab in the air. "Hey, you got any of that Rylothian rum here?" The bartender nodded after thinking a few moments, and then Pak added, "I’ll have a bottle of that, no glass." He reached in his jacket and pulled out enough coins for a couple bottles of the stuff and laid them on the bartop. With wide eyes, the male Twi’lek went off to look for the rum.
While he waited, Pak turned around on his stool, surveying the crowd. It was fairly diverse, with equally diverse clothing options, but that wasn’t surprising, considering which area of the city he was in. Most of the stools at the bar were occupied, and about half of the tables and booths were as well. The lighting was dimmer in the corners with the brighter lights up at the bar. Pak couldn’t really distinguish the species of some of the beings through the lack of lighting and the smoky haze that came from a few smokers past and present. The beings up at the bar appeared to be patrons like him, solo drinkers, though the tables were filled with mostly groups huddled in the relative security of the low lights.
There didn’t appear to be anything unusual about the place until he focused in with his antennapalps. The emotions he felt throughout the room were the normal ones that one might find in a cantina of any kind. A little happiness, some sadness, deviousness and mischievous, with an underlying overtone of despair. But then he felt a different set of feelings, a stronger elation, coming from a dark corner off to the other side of the bar. It took his eyes a bit to focus until he noticed it was a doorway and not a corner. All he could see was the edge of a dejarik table and figured it to be a gaming room that the cantina had created for some extra profits.
Pak didn’t have any more time to assuage his curiosity, though, because just then the blue Twi’lek returned with his bottle of rum. The Balosar saluted the bartender his thanks before reaching for the rum and pulling off the stopper, ignoring the glass that the other man had set down beside it, despite Pak’s request. He took a long drag, enjoying the burn as the alcohol slipped down his throat. He had first tasted the stuff back on Bothawui when he had run into his new pal Alberts and hadn’t been able to find a bar well-stocked enough to have carried it. But being on Rodia had its perks, and the Twi’lek bartender probably didn’t hurt either. Pak smiled and took another swig of the rum from Ryloth. This time he would make sure he had the time to take a few bottles to-go for later.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Nov 24, 2011 14:30:48 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Nov 24, 2011 14:30:48 GMT -5
For the first time in quite a few years, Ervisa Therani was back on Rodia. The reason for the Mirialan ex-Jedi's absence from the world was quite understandable, given that she had a sentence of twenty-five years or so for weapons smuggling on the planet. She'd served about three years of that sentence before tunneling her way out of the archaic prison and making her escape. Since then she'd steered well clear to avoid being sent into another higher security prison if she was recaptured.
Now she was back, and with no desire at all to be recaptured. With her fellow crewmates doing whatever it was they were doing, likely 'work-stuff' as Ervisa would dismiss it, that left her with free time. And it wasn't all that likely she'd be spotted and arrested in a sleazy little cantina with some gambling going on. Certainly not with her cunning disguise.
The disguise consisted of three parts. The first was a brimmed hat pulled down to her eyebrows, made out of brown felt, but not flimsy. She'd picked it up some place she couldn't remember once. Probably a place with a lot of sunshine, like the place she'd picked up the second aspect of her disguise: sunglasses. They were very dark-tinted aviator style glasses that completely obscured her eyes. And the final touch of her disguise, the crowning glory, was an enormous handlebar mustache perched on her upper lip. No one was going to recognize her now.
Of course she'd also taken a few other precautions, like wearing long sleeves to hide the majority of her distinctive tattoos. She had no desire whatsoever to spend any more time of her life in prison.
But she did have the itch to gamble, which had taken her to the- the- the place with the name she couldn't pronounce to save her life. Inside, it was reasonably well-furnished, and no one had a problem with smoking, to judge by the hazy air and the glow of burning tabac.
Ervisa herself had a cigar between two fingers of her left hand, which was wrapped around glass of whiskey. Her right hand was holding her Sabacc hand. Three cards. An Ace of Staves, an Ace of Coins, and one face card, Endurance. That gave her a total of 22. Not quite perfection, but close.
She raised her glass to her lips, sipping the whiskey, her third, and surveying the others at the table. There was a Neimodian, looking flustered and staring across the table at a slender Twi'lek, who looked up from her cards to stare at her date, who'd clearly dragged her there and barely explained the rules. The date was some sort of human or near-human, and seemed reasonably confident. Ervisa reached out with her senses and tried to get a read on his hand. Yes... he was bluffing. Then the other two at the table, a Duros and a Rodian, also seemed to be bluffing. Ervisa could definitely win with this hand.
"Call."
The Neimodian folded, as did the Duros and the Rodian. The human stayed in, if only through testing his luck, and the Twi'lek also laid down her cards, likely because she had no idea if it was a good hand or not. As it happened, it was a 20. Which was pretty solid actually, and better than her date's 15. Neither was good enough to beat the Mirialan though, and she pulled the large handpot to her, sliding the chips down into her pocket.
After that she gave a cursory nod to the others, before rising to her feet and heading off for another drink. Perhaps a change was in order. Maybe a cocktail? Perhaps.
Just as she was arriving at the bar, a Balosar man was piling down credits on the counter, almost as if they were going out of style. That was enough to cause her eyebrow to rise, not that it was visible below her hat. She really had to get this guy to the gambling table.
Ervisa slammed back the remainder of her drink, then slid the glass over to the bartender, with instructions for a gin and tonic. While he went about getting her drink, she sat on the bar, watching the Balosar. After a few moments of silence, she spoke to him.
"Do you gamble?"
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Nov 30, 2011 3:22:44 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Nov 30, 2011 3:22:44 GMT -5
A few moments and sips of rum later, Pak was feeling better than he had in weeks. The only drawback was that he most likely would fall just as hard this time after all the good feelings finally disappeared. But he just wouldn’t think about that. Thinking about the future too much had already hurt him, and he had decided long ago to just live for the present. Otherwise he probably wouldn’t be spending a good share of his free time drinking and going through his credits like water on a jungle planet. With nothing worthwhile in his future and only painful memories in the past, the present was his haven. Tonight he planned on staying there as long as he could, though his strategy with the rum would be slowly working against him.
As he slowly made his way through his bottle of rum, or tried to, at least, he gazed around the room again, turning a bit on his stool. He focused his eyes back over to the other side of the bar where he could see the partial doorway opening up into the side room. This time, he still couldn’t tell much more about what was inside. Pak shrugged and focused his light blue eyes on the rest of the room, looking around but not really seeing, a sort of bored look on his face. If it truly was a gambling hideaway, it wasn’t worth his time. There were much better ways, in his mind, to waste one’s credits.
Just as he was turning to face back to the bar, wanting to get a head start on which bottle of liquor he would order next, since his bottle of rum was half empty, some movement caught his eye. One of the darkened and hazy corners of the cantina was no longer dim, but awash with a bit of light. It turned out to contain a small stage and a young dark-skinned human female walked up, some kind of instrument in her hand. After a few moments music began pouring out of the thing, accompanying her singing, or at least, Pak assumed it was real music. He had never been a connoisseur of the more elegant things; all he knew was that it wasn’t exactly pleasing to his ears, and through his antennapalps he felt the beings around him growing irritated as well.
Pak continued his turn and gulped down a large portion of his rum, turning his back on the act. Maybe if he got drunk a bit faster, his senses would dull enough to drown out the amateur singer off in the corner. Or if he was lucky, some of the less intelligent patrons would mob her and drag her off the small stage. Until then, he could just sit there and decide on his second alcohol course and be grateful the bar was on the opposite side of the room from where the woman was attempting to sing and not in one of the nearby tables. Drinking alone had a few perks, and this was one of them. Still, he made a mental note to check out any further establishments for a stage and to avoid them if they did. The possibility of bad acts outweighed the possibility of a good one.
He was trying to choose between a likely looking aged whiskey and a bottle of undistinguishable pale yellow liquid when a voice entered his thoughts. Pak blinked a moment and brought himself back to the surface and looked to either side of him, checking to make sure a real being had spoken and not just a voice in his head. The Balosar found himself staring off to his left into a shadowy mustachioed face. He paused when the being’s question finally registered in his brain. Gambling… it was an unusual icebreaker, to be sure. But coming from a stranger and in a cantina that appeared to have a gaming room, perhaps not so strange.
Though an odd question, Pak decided to play along with the strange being with the feminine voice and body. At least it was something to take his mind off the poor musical talents going on, and perhaps in the process his mood would lighten back up. It couldn’t hurt, at least. He grinned crookedly, letting any surprise flee from his features. "Doesn’t every being, in one way or another?" It was true; every day the Balosar gambled with his life, with his reckless flying, his no-questions-asked passengers, his heavy drinking. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Pak took a long drag before looking back at the other being’s hidden face.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 1, 2011 19:53:46 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 1, 2011 19:53:46 GMT -5
"Doesn’t every being, in one way or another?"
"Every time I go into the refresher at a service station," Ervisa said with a nod. "How about a few hands of Sabacc Mister Big Spender? Loser buys the drinks for a few hours."
She paused after making the offer, noticing the Balosar was staring at her large false mustache, which she had to admit was surprisingly itchy. Facial hair wasn't what she'd been expecting, it wasn't all bristly and bushy, it was suave and slick. Quite dashing really, and if she was a man she'd have a handlebar mustache without a second thought. She twirled it between her fingers and let an appropriately suave tone into her voice.
"Ah, I see you staring at my mustache. A thing of beauty, isn't it? Regrettably I didn't grow it myself, as I'm a woman. But I still think it has a little panache, a certain special something. A classical style and a roguish flair perhaps?"
Ervisa leaned over the bar, her flat stomach flush with the counter, peering at row after row of liquor bottles to determine which one she wanted next. As she was doing so, the Twi'lek bartender returned with her drink.
The Mirialan woman picked it up and held the glass to the light, watching the liquid intently for a few silent moments. Then abruptly she placed it to her lips and slammed it back in the blink of an eye. Now perhaps something elegant and refined to go with her dignified mustache.
"Now my good man, a bottle of the Chandrilan yellow wine. Perhaps a Jartin Villa."
The bartender couldn't resist a half-smile as he went off in search of the bottle, leaving Ervisa and the Balosar alone. It was at that precise moment she realized she didn't even know his name yet.
"What's your name stranger?"
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Dec 7, 2011 19:23:25 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 7, 2011 19:23:25 GMT -5
Pak smiled again as the feminine stranger decided, for the moment at least, to play along and answer him in kind. He wouldn’t exactly agree that a public ‘fresher station was all that much of a high-risk gamble, but perhaps in this being’s life it was. If that was all he had to gamble on, the Balosar would probably not be wasting a good share of his credits drinking every available moment he had. But with the gambles of life came risks, and with the risks came excitement and danger. And if he had to be honest with himself, Pak wouldn’t trade his current state of affairs with anyone. He’d take his life, baggage and all, every time.
The fun now over, his new companion went back to the original topic: gambling, specifically sabacc. He set his half-empty bottle of rum back on the bartop and ran it through his fingers, making small invisible circles against its surface. Pak was no stranger to the card game. Back in his military days, first boot camp, then Starfighter Command, some of the guys liked to play the odd game or two. But the Balosar was no expert and usually ended up losing whatever he had put up. If the suggestion of this stranger hadn’t been so forthright, he may have been more inclined to accept. The way she went about it, though, made him hesitate. He felt a little uneasy about her unexpected proposal. Like perhaps she had single him out on purpose.
Luckily he had some more time to think about the sabacc suggestion, as the supposed female explained, in a way, her strange attire. Pak merely nodded, his suspicions merely being proved. He thought it a bit odd that a female would wear a moustache just because it had style. The Balosar himself had never been a huge fan of facial hair, though perhaps that was due to the fact that he couldn’t really grow anything more than a patchy beard. Even in his darkest depression and moods, he generally found the time to stay groomed, at least on his face. His hair and clothing were another matter.
No, he felt this woman must have a different motive for her disguise, and he decided to go with a theory, but kept his words in a joking matter. “I don’t know about beauty or flair, lady. Maybe for a fugitive.” Pak winked to show he was just messing around, watching to see how she’d react, if she did at all. After all, it could be entirely possible he was chatting with an escaped patient from an insane asylum who preferred dressing as a male and not a being who had a more pressing need to disguise her appearance. He turned back to his rum, shaking his head a little, realizing he was doing way too much analytic thinking this late in the day.
With the woman turning her attention to the Twi’lek bartender, Pak took the opportunity to gulp down some more of his own drink and think more about whether he wanted to take her up on the suggestion to play a few hands of sabacc. Best to get his mind off his earlier line of thinking and also the awful singer off in the corner to disappear in his immediate foreground. The latter was just annoying; the former could possibly get him into trouble if by some stroke of bad luck he had actually picked up on the true reason for the woman’s moustache and hat getup. Despite his time away, the curse of his military mindset never left him. And if he didn’t want to have to abandon this cantina with its possibility of more Rylothian rum, he’d better rein it in and just keep to what was safe: joking around.
He noticed the woman empty her glass with one gulp, and he had to smile to himself a little bit. Now here was someone he could possibly get along with. Perhaps not gamble with but he could certainly drink with her. There had been others whose company Pak enjoyed, for sure, but they always sipped their drinks and only rarely went past a third glass. He, on the other hand, went straight for the bottle and rarely stopped before he had reached a half dozen. And the Balosar felt that this woman was the same type of drinker. In fact, she was in the process of ordering up a bottle of wine for herself. Maybe playing to see who would buy the next rounds wouldn’t be so bad. After all, even if he lost, he’d still win. He’d drink as already planned and gain a drinking partner.
When she spoke to him again, asking his name, he decided to go with a different response before dealing with the inquiry and going back to the question of playing sabacc. Pak gestured to her with the neck of his almost empty bottle of rum. “Smart move, going with a bottle. I find it’s cheaper in the long run.” He grinned and put the bottle to his lips, finishing it off and then clunking the empty back on the bartop. Another was in order, but he’d have to wait until the Twi’lek finished with his new companion’s wine.
Looking back at her, he answered her, not bothering to think to himself whether it was a good idea or not to give out his name. It wasn’t as if he was a wanted being or anything. If any being was actually searching for him, it was their waste of time. Pak could make himself scarce when he needed to. “Captain Har’endanno to my clients, Pak to my friends. Which might you be wanting to be?” He lifted a brow, a part of him wondering if maybe the mention of gambling was just a way to break the ice and not a real offer. Coupling that with the woman’s disguise, perhaps she was just looking for a good discerning pilot to get her off planet. The possibility of earning a few more credits was not something Pak would ignore. And if he could do that by what he did best, all the better. If not, there was always the game of sabacc.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 9, 2011 20:24:43 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 9, 2011 20:24:43 GMT -5
“I don’t know about beauty or flair, lady. Maybe for a fugitive.”
One eyebrow went up. Did he know, or was he guessing? Or was he simply making a joke? Well to be frank, she was going to answer the exact same way regardless of his intentions, that was simply the way she was built. Or possibly the way she'd chosen to be. After so many ears of behavior it had all blurred together. It was extremely hard to remember an Ervisa Therani who wasn't happy-go-lucky, frivolous, and spontaneous. There had been a time when she wasn't so roguish, when her grey eyes hadn't sparkled mischievously. She liked who she was now better. Everyone liked this Ervisa, and she didn't have much to worry about. Hell, even if the Rodian government or bounty hunters came after her, she'd find a way out and lose them.
"Fugitive. Oh yes indeed. Wanted, for crimes against fashion. You should have seen the offense, I wore a paisley jacket and a plaid tank top. My pants were also made of this fuzzy neon orange substance I wasn't sure what was. Flammable as all hell though...
Before she could relay a false anecdote about her pants catching on fire, the Twi'lek bartender returned with the bottle, which happened to be a screw top. Oh well, beggars couldn't be choosers. Well, not that she was a beggar.
“Smart move, going with a bottle. I find it’s cheaper in the long run.”
"Agreed. Plus, if you really want to have yourself a time you need a manly serving size. Puts hair on your chest. Had to shave three times last week, have the cuts to prove it."
“Captain Har’endanno to my clients, Pak to my friends. Which might you be wanting to be?”
"Friends works for me," Ervisa answered, before taking a quick swig directly from the bottle. "I'm a pilot myself, so I wouldn't have much reason to hire a ship. Not like I have the money for that either, since I blow it all on hooch and cigars. Speaking of, want one?"
The Mirialan woman held up a cigar that had appeared in her hand, almost by magic. She waggled it a little as if to make it seem more enticing.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2011 19:47:15 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 16, 2011 19:47:15 GMT -5
He nodded at her reply, not letting any possible disappointment in his face to show. After all, it had been a long shot to think that some woman in a crazy disguise would be hanging out in a Rodian cantina looking for a ride through more unofficial channels. Well, perhaps not quite so long. But things were what they were. Plus, there was a perk to the lady having her own transportation, assuming that her admission of being a pilot also included her own ship: if things ever turned sour, they could go their separate ways. Pak wasn’t so keen on running from the authorities if they weren’t actually after the Balosar. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could get away cleanly—he was a very good pilot, if he might say so himself—he just wasn’t sure he’d want to spend a few days planet-hopping with this unusual woman.
And unusual was putting it lightly. Pak enjoyed a few jokes here and there, like any being did, perhaps more than most beings, but this female… Turning his joke about being a fugitive into something about clothing? Joking still further about her moustache and shaving? The Balosar would have shaken his head in amazement, but he felt that was some truth behind the woman’s out-of-this-galaxy joking. And he couldn’t quite figure out why he got that feeling. He was all for some casual, witty banter and had been pleased to find someone to parry and riposte with in a like manner. But it was almost like she was turning into some kind of competition to see which one of them could say the most outlandish things. Well, Pak was into fun, and while he’d joke back, he wasn’t about to get all bothered about how good they were.
The Balosar’s mind snapped back to the present, lost in his thoughts for only a few seconds before replying to his new companion. “I hear that. But you could probably already see what I spend my earnings on.” Pak grinned and lifted his half-empty bottle of rum. “If my girl doesn’t need any repairs, I’m usually off to the nearest cantina after a job.” He waved off her offer with his hand, adding a shake of his head. “And no thanks… I’m not really a smoker. Not of cigars anyway.” A twinkle came into his eyes, a crooked smile to his mouth; he wanted to see how his joke embedded with a lot of truth went over. “But if you’ve got any deathsticks… I’d be all over that.” Obviously if the disguised female had any general knowledge of Balosars, it would come off just as any of his previous jokes, or hers, for that matter.
Pak went back to his bottle of rum, wondering if he should bring up the matter that had brought the woman over to him in the first place, or if he should just let her reintroduce the topic of sabacc. It had been her idea, after all; she should be the one to speak of it again. Though, if he just waited around for her, it could seem as if he wasn’t interested. Which to be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure whether he was interested or not. Though the possibility of earning some credits would never pass him by. On the other hand, if he brought it up, it could make him sound needy and a little too eager. He wouldn’t want the woman to get the wrong impression about his level of skill. All joking aside, he wasn’t about to lie about any prowess in gambling sports. Considering he could be by all means dealing with a hustler her. No… he’d just keep quiet and see how the conversation went and make a decision if and when it came to that.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Dec 18, 2011 13:40:41 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Dec 18, 2011 13:40:41 GMT -5
“I hear that. But you could probably already see what I spend my earnings on.”
Ervisa noticed him drawing attention to his bottle of alcohol and she nodded approvingly. Definitely something she could understand and appreciate. Alcohol was a truly magnificent substance, drowning out pain and discomfort like a liquid boss. If he was that heavily into drinking, it was likely he had his own set of baggage to carry around. However Ervisa had no interest in a mutual baggage check.
“And no thanks… I’m not really a smoker. Not of cigars anyway... But if you’ve got any deathsticks… I’d be all over that.
Ervisa raised an eyebrow with a thin smile on her full green lips. Now he was cooking with gas. She appreciated that humor. Nice to see a Balosar who was more amused than disturbed by deathstick addiction. Now there was something she wasn't into, though she had tried Ryll a few times. A few hallucinations weren't much of a price to pay from spice, though she'd kicked the habit a few years back. Now deathsticks... Different. Every single one you took reduced your life expectancy.
Of course it was different for Pak, as a Balosar his body was resistant. Addicted as hell, but not likely to impact the length of his life. And Ervisa had to admit if she was immune to all that she'd probably consume a hell of a lot more of everything.
"Sorry, no deathsticks. Left them in my other pants..." Ervisa peered around the establishment briefly, glancing at her lightsaber. Now normally she'd just whip out the Jedi weapon and activate for the express purpose of lighting her cigar. But alas, she was trying to keep a low profile.
Instead she pulled out a pocket lighter and bit the tip of the cigar with her teeth, spitting it out onto the floor. She kept the tabac product perched between her lips as she held the orange flame of the lighter up to it, gently puffing and waiting for it to catch. It did, and she closed up the lighter, spiriting it back to her pocket.
"So," Ervisa said, "You. Me. Cards. What say you?"
Hardly the pithiest request or the most flowery she'd made, but it would get the point across. That was all that mattered really. He got the idea, and either he'd say yes or he'd say no. If yes, then great. She'd do some more cards. If no, oh well. Plenty of other fish in the sea.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Jan 10, 2012 20:43:05 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Jan 10, 2012 20:43:05 GMT -5
Lost in his thoughts and the silence that followed his only half-joking question about deathsticks, Pak almost missed his new companion’s answer. He nodded, not turning his gaze from his bottle of rum. It wasn’t really a surprise that this disguised female wouldn’t have the drugs. She was quite strange and unusual, but the Balosar also got the feeling that she was more putting on an act, than any real example of depravity. Sure, she was into her alcohol, but so was he. They really weren’t all that different, on the surface, at least. In the end, though, she was just a being to pass the time with, drinking, playing cards, anything. He’d have to find another means to the deathsticks and total, if brief, separation from his haunted recent past.
Pak was setting down his bottle, just noticing that it was more empty than full and contemplating his next order, when the female brought up the topic of sabacc again. Or at least, that’s what he assumed from her mention of cards. So, her earlier suggestion hadn’t been completely innocent, an icebreaker. This woman really wanted to gamble with the Balosar, and Pak wasn’t sure what to think about it. Yes, it could be fun, more interesting than sitting at the bar all night. And he was feeling his depressive plunge starting to come on. Alcohol stopped it for a bit but not for long. Maybe keeping his attention on a game of cards, a friendly game, could help stave off the emotional nosedive.
He glanced over at her before turning back to his bottle, wrapping both hands around it in contemplation. On the other hand, it could just serve to make him feel worse. The idea of some stranger taking him for all he had because he wasn’t skilled in the game of sabacc wasn’t too appealing. Pak would gamble with his life but not with his credits. Credits enabled him to keep up his current lifestyle, keeping his demons far enough at bay that he could cope in everyday life, for the most part. No, this game could prove to be the opposite of fun, a worst way to spend his time. The Balosar decided to feel the lady out first, and if he didn’t feel anything overtly untoward, he’d go for it.
Picking up his bottle of rum, he finished it off and set it back on the bartop before moving back to look at his companion. Wiping away anything from his face that might give away his conflicted thoughts, he replaced them with his crooked grin again. At the same time, he made sure he was in tune with his antennapalps, to better feel out the woman’s emotional state. They didn’t exactly work as a lie detector, but Pak could compare what he was seeing with what his ‘palps were sensing and compare the two. “Well, that all depends on which kind of cards. If you mean fortune-telling cards, I’m always interested in what my future doesn’t hold.” He winked. “But if you mean sabacc, I have to admit I’m really just an amateur. Really, worse than an amateur. So if you were looking for a game among equals, I’d have to decline.”
The Balosar looked at his empty bottle then back to the female, raising his brows and making them disappear into his mop of brown hair. “But if you don’t mind something casual, I’m willing to learn. If you’re willing to play teacher.” It was a bit more than he had planned on saying, but he felt it’d be enough, depending on her answer, for him to figure out if there was any ulterior motive behind the woman’s initial approach of him. Plus, if he got a lesson on sabacc out of the deal, the better. Pak knew he could always use some more ‘life skills.’ The more knowledge he had, the more options he’d have in order to survive. And maybe, just maybe, he’d get good at it and be able to supplement his piloting income.
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Jan 13, 2012 16:10:14 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 13, 2012 16:10:14 GMT -5
“Well, that all depends on which kind of cards. If you mean fortune-telling cards, I’m always interested in what my future doesn’t hold. But if you mean sabacc, I have to admit I’m really just an amateur. Really, worse than an amateur. So if you were looking for a game among equals, I’d have to decline.”
Ervisa angled her jaw a little to the side, expressing her ambivalence here. Yeah, she was out for a serious card game. She could take candy from a baby any time with her Force abilities, so she didn't particularly have any interest in playing him as an amateur. Or in teaching him how to play. If she'd needed money then it might have been different and she might have taken him on a ride for cash, but her coffers were reasonably well-stocked.
As to fortune telling, she'd never even tried it before, which wasn't to say she was opposed to it. She'd be hard-pressed to remember the meanings of each Sabacc card though, and that was the real obstacle to fortune-telling.
"But if you don’t mind something casual, I’m willing to learn. If you’re willing to play teacher.”
Ervisa shook her head. No, she wasn't about to baby him along, teaching him the intricacies of a card game. She lacked the patience for that. She really did. There'd have to be money involved for it.
Time to tell him just that.
"Well you see, there's one small problem with that. I'm not exactly a pro bono tutor here, I'm in it for the money. So if you want to pay for lessons then great, if not, I really can't be bothered to teach you. And for a small fee I'd be glad to read your palm. Assuming fortune-telling interests you."
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Jan 23, 2012 19:41:32 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Jan 23, 2012 19:41:32 GMT -5
Even after she dismissed his suggestion, Pak still wasn’t sure about this female. He would have been inclined to think that she wasn’t all that serious in wanting to play with him, for whatever reason. If she was, he’d have thought she would have gone to any means to get to that, including showing him how to play. And if the roles were reversed, he’d have jumped at the chance to swindle an amateur who barely knew the rules. But she didn’t seem interested, unless she got some money out of it, if he paid her for lessons. Well, Pak wasn’t exactly looking for something quite so formal either. This woman’s words and his antennapalps were both giving him mixed signals, and now he was even more uncertain about what to do. On one side, all she wanted was money; on the other, she appeared to have enough morality to not want to take advantage of someone who didn’t know the game.
To keep her attention for a few minutes later while he thought quickly of how to prolong this conversation, he laughed shortly and answered her last statement. “No, not really. I’m pretty sure I already know what my future holds for me.” He nodded and pointed with his empty rum bottle to the shelves behind the bar, full of various alcoholic beverages. “I don’t need any fancy cards to tell me that my fate’s been sealed.” It was true; despite any fanciful aspirations he had about rejoining the military, he knew it would never happen. The Balosar was too far gone to make a decent go of that again, unless by some unexpected miracle he could put himself together again.
He looked back at the disguised stranger. Pak wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t about to let this go, not yet. They had been having an interesting enough conversation, and he didn’t want to cut that short just because she was too stuck up to take the time to show him around a sabacc table. If he had to pay to keep the chitchat going, keep his mind focused away from his demons, then so be it. He’d thrown away credits on much, much less in the past. But he’d have to make sure things were on his terms, at least somewhat. The Balosar removed any jocularity from his voice, at least for the time being. “I’d never expect free lessons, but I’m not exactly in the market for something so professional, either.” Pak paused, wondering briefly to himself why he was taking this chance, but then remembering that he had always been a risk taker.
“However, I’m sure we could work something out. You obviously wanted to strike up a game with me, and I doubt you’d just give up on account of me not being able to play. And I’ve been enjoying this little conversation and hate to see it end prematurely based on a little triviality. So how about this…” He reached inside his jacket and gave something inside there a jangle. “I’ll buy the next few rounds of drinks, you’ll show me around a sabacc deck, and we’ll have a bit of fun and see what happens.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping he was right in his earlier assumption that he and the woman shared an undeniable love of all things alcohol. If anything, he hoped she took his offer; being so serious for so long gave him a headache, and he didn’t want to have to keep it up.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Jan 24, 2012 14:32:10 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jan 24, 2012 14:32:10 GMT -5
Ervisa blew out a small cloud of cigar smoke that wafted around her like her own personal cloud as she contemplated that offer carefully. Yes, it did offer her compensation for her services, even if it wasn't all that much in the grand scheme of things. She got what she wanted more or less, even if it didn't guarantee her a good game or a fat paycheck.
A few drinks was better than nothing though.
Ervisa scooped up her bottle and gestured for Pak to follow her as she took off through the crowded bar until she found a deserted corner booth in which to provide the instruction. She slid into one side and motioned the Balosar into the other, setting down her bottle and letting her cigar perch on her lip as her hand reached down to her pocket and pulled out something not commonly seen.
A deck of paper sabacc cards.
She could have used one of the extremely common electric cards that automatically shuffled, but there was something so much more satisfying about real paper cards, ones you could touch and feel. She preferred this by far.
Nimble green fingers took to the deck, shuffling it rapidly and exotically, the result of a decade of practice. She made the task look positively effortless, as easy as breathing. Her first time though she'd butchered it.
The Mirialan woman finally stopped, placing the deck flat on the table between them. And that was where she began the lesson.
"So, there are 76 cards in the deck. Sixty numbered cards of four suits, and two copies each of special face cards. The face cards are the Queen of Air and Darkness (−2), Endurance (−8), Balance (−11), Demise (−13), Moderation (−14), The Evil One (−15), The Star (−17), and The Idiot (0). There's four phases of the game now to cover. First we draw, then we bet."
Ervisa slid him four cards and gave herself four cards. She didn't even look at hers yet.
"Now since we aren't betting for money right now, this phase gets skipped and instead I tell you the point of the game. The goal is to have your cards total the absolute value of 23. Whoever gets the closest wins the hand. The game doesn't end until someone gets 23, or the Idiot's Array, 0-2-3. This is why you bet into the hand pot, for the hand, and the sabacc pot for the game. You follow me so far honey?"
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Feb 10, 2012 19:25:04 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Feb 10, 2012 19:25:04 GMT -5
Pak had pretty much half-expected the woman to still decline his offer. It wouldn’t have bothered him all that much if she had, but what he had said was true. He actually was enjoying their little bit of bantering back and forth and had looked forward to prolonging it. She was almost as fun to talk to as Alberts was, probably the only other being in his recent memory whom he’d spent any degree of time with, excluding any long-trip passengers, whom he didn’t really speak to anyway. Despite any inner feelings to the contrary, the Balosar liked a bit of companionship in certain circumstances. And right now it was helping him keep from falling into his inevitable depression for a bit longer.
Without a word, the disguised female got up from her place at the bar and headed towards an out-of-the-way booth at the other end of the room, motioning for him to follow. He could no longer see the entrance to the gaming back room he had spied earlier. Pak wasn’t sure why, but he thought they’d head there. Though, he supposed it made sense to acquaint him with the rules before getting into a real game. The Balosar paused at the bar, glancing at the array of beverages displayed behind the bar, wondering if he should bring something with him or wait to order till he was seated. Not wanting to keep his new ‘friend’ waiting, he decided to order later. She had already seemed a bit ill-tempered, and Pak wasn’t looking for a fight.
He joined her, sitting across from her and immediately pressing the signaling button on the table for a serving droid. In the time since he had arrived till now, the cantina had filled up a bit. The two of them were not the only ones looking for a possible good time in an establishment such as this. Of course, the more upscale places were probably busy as well, but they just didn’t have the atmosphere and anonymity. Pak wanted to make sure he got the attention of one of the servers as early as he could, not knowing when one would have the time to make it to their table. Satisfied that the device was working properly, and that a droid would be coming their way soon enough, he turned back to the matter at hand.
By the time he had turned his attention back to the mustachioed green woman, she had pulled out some cards and was in the midst of shuffling them. He was mildly impressed with her skills but not enough to be wowed by them. Shuffing didn’t figure high into his list of important things to know about sabacc. Luckily, she got right into the lesson, explaining the different cards to them and their values. Pak recognized most of them, have having played before, but now actually was learning the worth of them. And realizing why he had lost so much in the past. It was a lot to keep track of, but he forced himself to commit them to memory, pretending they were mission protocols.
She then dealt them each four cards and then got into the meat of the game. He had already known that reaching 23 points was the ultimate goal. His problem in the past was that he always forgot the value of certain cards and always overshot it by a wide margin, losing a pile of credits on his oversights and forgetfulness. But now that he had someone trying to take the time to make sure he got everything right, he hoped it wouldn’t happen again. At least, not very often. Strange to think he would actually do better this time around when he had much, much more alcohol in his system than back in his military days. But then again, he also thought he flew better while partially intoxicated as well.
Winking, he grinned at her, not able to help himself after her ‘honey’ remark. “Sure thing, sweetie.” Everything she had explained seemed fairly straightforward so far. It was just a bit of math, really, mixed in with some risk-taking. Pak was sure he could handle it so far, for the most part. It wasn’t as if they were playing for keeps, not yet anyway. He was about to ask what was next and if he could look at his cards when a serving droid appeared at their table, asking for their orders. Relief passed over the Balosar’s face. “Ah, finally! Another bottle of that Rylothian rum, my good sir. Ask the bartender; he’ll know which one.” He stopped to let his companion order up her first round, nodding at her and pulling a few credchips from inside his jacket and laying them in front of the droid.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Feb 12, 2012 1:27:10 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Feb 12, 2012 1:27:10 GMT -5
"And a bottle of wine for me, make it a white Sebro" Ervisa told the waiter, waving the serving droid along to go do things. Droid things. Stuff that had to be done. Important stuff. Like alcohol. Always the alcohol.
It moved along to carry out their order, leaving the Mirialan and the Balosar alone together again with a set of cards and the name 'sweetie' hanging in the air, which Ervisa found most definitely worthy of comment.
"Sweetie is all fine and well, but I'm more partial to 'ravishing vixen' if you don't mind," the green woman said with a wink and a smile, glancing at her cards for the first time.
A two, a six, a four, and an idiot. For a total of twelve. Not particularly good, but it was the beginning only, and a lot could happen with the subsequent cards. Besides, she had maybe a five percent chance of getting a three, and subsequently an Idiot's array.
That would be fun. Nothing quite like royally creaming a newbie in the first few minutes. Of course she didn't particularly expect that success. Instead she just expected a nice little chat and a boring little game for a few minutes before she headed back to the ship and blasted off the planet again.
"So, what brings you to Rodia Mister Pak? Besides a ship of course."
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Feb 23, 2012 19:01:29 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Feb 23, 2012 19:01:29 GMT -5
As his companion ordered a bottle of what he considered light-weight alcohol to match up with his request of the harder rum, Pak tried not to read too much into it. Perhaps the woman just wanted to retain her senses longer, thinking that the Balosar would soon be reeling drunk, going on his second bottle of liquor. He watched the droid whir away, servos clicking. Well, the green-skinned woman across from him would have quite an awakening. Pak wasn’t near getting that drunk yet. His tolerance had grown since his beer-filled childhood back on Balosar. Spending the majority of the past year drinking the way he had would do that to a being.
He looked back to the woman just as she was responding to his earlier playful endearment. Something he had completely forgotten saying to her. The Balosar’s little quips generally just slipped out without passing through his brain first. And effect of his personality and not aided at all by his alcohol intake. His light blue eyes had dulled a bit in confusion but quickly sparkled as the memory came back to him. Pak merely grinned at her and said, “Whatever you say, Greenie” in response, not having a safe comeback at the moment. Despite his joking nature, he knew that he would never go so far as to call another female ‘ravishing.’ Innocent little tags like ‘sweetie’ and ‘honey’ were all in good fun, but nothing more serious would ever escape his lips while he was still in good senses.
The conversation stilled then for a few moments as she picked up the cards she had dealt. Pak decided to glance at his as well. Unsure whether to completely flip them over, he just lifted up the corners to see the suits and laid them back down. He had seen the five of coins, the eight of sabers, and the eight and nine of staves. With some quick addition, aided by the fact he didn’t hold one of the crazy special cards, he quickly figured out that he currently held a 30. Not exactly the best score, considering it was a bust, but it was only the first hand. There would be plenty of time for him to trade down closer to 23, or try to, at least.
Pak’s thoughts were interrupted then by a question lifted in the woman’s female voice. His eyes lifted back up to his companion, a neutral expression on his face only slightly marred by a smile. The Balosar was happy to see that the woman wanted to continue their little chat. He had briefly had a thought earlier that she would turn completely businesslike when the lesson on sabacc had started, ending all chances of a conversation between the two of them. Perhaps she was as interested as he was in continuing it, or perhaps she was just trying to be polite, wasting time. Or, as a long shot that still tickled the back of his mind, she was just leading him on until she took advantage of his amateur skills and his credits.
Tossing all this out of his mind, he settled for living in the moment, trusting his antennapalps and his various training to keep him aware enough in case anything untoward came from the woman. He’d just keep things light and friendly, which wasn’t very hard at all for the Balosar while he remained in good spirits. In more than one way. “Ah, well… a job. Had a passenger to drop off here. Now I’m just waiting for another opportunity to come my way.” Of course, he realized she hadn’t asked him for so many details, but sometimes he tended to ramble. “And what about you, Miss…” He raised his eyebrows, making them disappear into his unruly brown hair a moment. “Don’t say I have to call you ‘Greenie’ the rest of the evening.” Pak grinned.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Feb 26, 2012 12:24:12 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Feb 26, 2012 12:24:12 GMT -5
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies!" Ervisa practically sang with a grin on her green face. It was a slightly unorthodox answer, but it laid out as much as she was willing to share. Namely, keeping her name secret. She had no idea if anyone around here knew about her status as a fugitive, and she didn't want to risk it. "But we can always stick with ravishing vixen..." She teased with an impish smile.
"Now, normally in a game the electronic cards will change on you if you haven't saved them. With paper cards we have to discard and take new ones, just like-"
The Mirialan woman suddenly dropped to the floor underneath the table of the booth at the sight of two armed police officers walking through the cantina, checking people against a picture. She had no idea whether or not it was her on there, but she didn't feel much like chancing it.
So she remained crouched in the dark space, watching the legs of various people. She ignored a long pink pair in stilettos, a meaty pair in dress shoes, and even a pair in shorts and sandals. She only had eyes for the blue pants legs of the two Rodian police officers, which finally came to a stop right before the table.
"Good evening sir, have you seen this woman?" One of the officers held out a picture a few years old of a very familiar tattooed Mirialan woman, whose braid was hanging down over an orange prison jumpsuit.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Mar 13, 2012 18:15:42 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 13, 2012 18:15:42 GMT -5
(((I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to move the cops away, so I didn’t… But I can edit, if need be.)))
Pak nodded in understanding at her joking unwillingness to give out her name or even a fake name, smiling in turn at her suggestion of what he could address her as instead. He had had his fair share of passengers throughout the past months who had wished to remain anonymous. As long as they paid him and the trip went smoothly enough (namely, that he and the Requiem didn’t end up blown into oblivion), he could have cared less what any of them called themselves. A small but important detail that sometimes made he and his red ship more appealing than others.
Her response, though, combined with her rather odd disguise jostled his earlier thought that perhaps this woman was in some sort of trouble. Or at least that she was hiding from something or someone and didn’t wish to be found. He remembered then her reaction to his light comment earlier about her being a fugitive, something the green-skinned woman had just waved away with a silly and humorous quip. But now that he thought about it, perhaps it had just been a diversion, a way to cope. Something to throw him off the trail that he had put a finger on the truth. The Balosar inwardly shrugged and let the idea go; whether it was true or not, it was none of his business, and he focused back at the task at hand.
No matter the woman’s baggage and reason for avoiding her true name, he still wasn’t willing to go so far as to use the moniker she came up with. Even if she wasn’t wearing the silly hat and moustache, it wouldn’t have felt right, almost an insult to the dearly departed Shen. Now female beings no longer had that kind of meaning for him. The only ‘ravishing vixen’ in his life was his ship. “Think I’ll stick with ‘Greenie’ if you don’t mind.” Not wanting to offend, he quickly added with a wink, “You’re just not my type.”
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the disguised green ‘vixen’ had no chance to remark about his own personal ideas on the matter. Pak had just focused back on his cards as she returned to the lesson, only to look up at her and see that there was empty space where once the woman had been. He was confused only momentarily as he scanned the area around their table for her until he felt increased pressure on one of his booted feet. This, combined with his notice of a couple of Rodian police wandering nearby, made him put two and two together. Obviously he had been right on his earlier assumption that not all was rainbows and sparkles in reference to the woman’s disguise and unwillingness to divulge any real information.
But none of that really concerned him; he was only here for some relaxation and a casual lesson on sabbacc. And despite his background in the military, Pak wasn’t about to ruin that by squealing to the cops. Anything the woman had gotten herself into was her problem. He wasn’t looking to be a hero here, or for the possibility that his past might be dug up and made public. His brief stint as a smuggler wasn’t something to be proud of. For him, the risk of being identified later as having abetted a criminal far outweighed the one of public humiliation and invasion of his privacy. Plus, the Balosar knew how to lie low in case things went sour in the future. And what was life without risk, anyway?
And so when he the pair of officers came to his table, Pak was busy shuffling, rather badly, the cards in his hands, acting as if to play a solo game. He had gathered up the ones that the woman had dealt both of them back into the stack to erase any evidence of her presence. They’d have to start all over again with their practice game, but he had a feeling the woman wouldn’t mind one bit about that. Pak was also grateful that their serving droid was late in bringing their drinks; he could have fairly easily explained those away but was also glad he wouldn’t have to. Just one less thing to worry about.
“Hello, officers. What can I do for you?” One of the Rodians placed a datapad in front of him along with a polite question. Pak took a few moments to look at the displayed image, knowing that a quick peek and denial would only serve to add guilt. “Hmm…” As he studied it over, he mentally added a bad hat and moustache and could then see a vague resemblance to his drinking companion. Though he was an amateur at the actual game of sabbacc, he had a pretty good sabbacc face, and it was well composed. Any recognition he had wouldn’t have shown on his face.
After Pak had given the image sufficient contemplation, he turned back to the officers and shook his head. “Sorry. No, I haven’t. I’d remember such a face. But I’ll definitely let you know if I do, officers. Can’t have such a dangerous criminal wandering our streets, threatening our children, and all that, eh.” He plastered a sincere smile on his face, willing them to believe that he was just a concerned citizen, ready and able to do his part for the good of the populace, and hoping his acting skills had improved since the incident with Alberts on Bothawui.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Mar 15, 2012 18:34:30 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Mar 15, 2012 18:34:30 GMT -5
Ervisa waited under the table, heart beating faster in the darkness as she stared at the three pairs of boots. It wasn't that she didn't handle stress well, since by and large she did, it was that this was a legitimately tense moment for her, one that was a juncture. It was the point where her morality and her self-preservation instincts did battle.
She didn't want to hurt anyone. Ever since leaving the Jedi Order she'd been at a struggle to balance morality she'd learned as a Youngling with the real world, where things were a whole lot more grey and less black and white. She'd come to accept that you had to break a few laws now and then, and the Mirialan woman had even hurt people before, though usually the ones who deserved it. But police were a whole other ball of wax. They were just doing their jobs, and they were the 'good guys' she'd spent so much time on the side of once. Being put in a position where they were after her wasn't good or healthy, because it leveraged her into a corner.
She couldn't go to prison again, which meant she'd have to hurt anyone who tried to bring her in. Cops not withstanding.
After a moment of held breath, Pak answered the officers and covered for her. The two pairs of boots meandered away from her, and like a submarine's periscope emerging from the briny depths, Ervisa's head emerged and peered over the tabletop, watching the backs of the officers as they exited through the door. Slowly, the remainder of the green woman rose up as well and she returned to her seat, toying with the long braid of raven hair.
Abruptly, Ervisa tore off the false mustache and tossed it and the hat onto the floor, revealing her full lips and angular face better, and removing the shroud from her piercing grey eyes, flecked with blue. One gloved hand pulled the bangs out of her eyes as she frowned.
"What's the use in hiding?" She remarked in an almost bitter tone wholly unlike her coquettish and charming one of just a few minutes prior. "It's never done me an ounce of good."
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Mar 26, 2012 17:43:03 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 26, 2012 17:43:03 GMT -5
(((Sorry for the wait... I had this reply done a few days ago, but just go around to getting my flash drive...)))
It wasn’t until the officers had left, after a couple more generic questions, that Pak realized he had been holding his breath a bit. He blew it out a little loudly and immediately started relaxing. Despite his neutral facial expression and body language, he had actually been a bit nervous inside. Which, while not an unusual phenomenon for the Balosar, was a bit odd considering the situation. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever lied before to save his own skin or someone else’s. Perhaps it had just been adrenaline that had released after building up during the rather exciting situation. Whatever the reason was, though, it was gone now, and he didn’t have to worry about it any longer.
This time he noticed the movement of his companion as he kept idly shuffling the cards, shifting them from hand to hand. Where he hadn’t seen her disappear moments before, he caught her head poking up over the table out of the side of his light blue eyes. Then eventually the rest of her body settled back down in the booth. He quickly compared the image in front of him with the one that he had seen on the police’s datapad, again not seeing a perfect match, but a fairly decent resemblance between the two. Pak had to guess that it was due to the addition of years and experience on the green-skinned woman’s face, or maybe that he just couldn’t see the small holo image in the same way as the flesh-and-blood picture.
He nodded at her to acknowledge her return, not wanting to speak aloud just yet in case the police hadn’t left the cantina yet. Or if maybe nearby patrons would notice his companion now that they had also seen the prison holograph. Pak slid the deck of cards back to her side of the table, acting as if nothing had happened but a slight setback, a pause in their game. A test to see if he would remember the rules. Light amusement played across his face as he waited for her to make the next move, curious to see what she might say or do in response to what just happened.
The woman surprised him, though, as she almost immediately ripped off her disguise, the hat and moustache disappearing in a heartbeat. Pak’s eyebrows raised a bit, not quite hiding behind his unruly brown hair. She was taking an awful risk revealing herself, considering that everyone in the establishment now knew what she looked like. If any of them ever looked this way, she would almost definitely be found out. He had to admit he admired her it, though. The Balosar was used to taking risks all over the place, and to find another being in the same vein was a bit refreshing.
Pak shrugged at her response as she broke her silence, the shadow of a smile still in his eyes. He could have countered her position with an argument that there were some very, very good reasons for hiding, but remained silent. She didn’t seem in the mood to hear them anyway, and he’d prefer to keep on her good side and continue the lesson. Plus, obviously she was better at just running away and evading than just simply disappearing somewhere, never to be located. So he just tried to lighten the mood a bit, not directly responding to what appeared to be a hypothetical question. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Greenie, for not letting the cops catch you. Oh, no, it was no problem. No, you don’t have to owe me anything, not after so graciously helping me with sabacc.” A grin spread across his face, and he folded his arms on the table, enjoying his little one-sided conversation.
Just then the droid server rolled up to their table and deposited their drinks before them, bottle of wine for his companion, bottle of rum for himself. He pulled out a couple more credit chips for the droid and watched it whir away before focusing on the important task at hand. Anything his companion would say would be put on hold as he grabbed the bottle and uncapped it. Pak raised the neck to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the alcohol run down his throat and soothe him. “Ahh…” If he had had any more remaining jitters from the brief meeting with the police officers, it was now fully erased. One more long drag from the bottle of rum, and he set it down, a contented smile replacing his joking one of earlier, prepared now to move on with the woman’s lesson on sabacc.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
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Mar 30, 2012 14:49:33 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Mar 30, 2012 14:49:33 GMT -5
Ervisa screwed off the cap on the bottle of wine and promptly ignored what every connoisseur of wine would recommend, namely letting it breathe, and instead proceeded to take one very long swig from it. She didn't want it for the bouquet or the flavor, she wanted it for the alcohol. She needed it for the alcohol.
Whenever the specter of anxiety came bubbling up, when things seemed so futile, when her heart beat faster and her skin seemed to burn, then she needed it more than ever. For some reason she was in that right now, and as the alcohol slid down her throat she recognized why.
Just being on Rodia again was a mess of bad memories, being trapped in an ancient prison was one of them. It was like a throwback to long ago having stone walls, earth floors. It was barbaric, and despite bragging about her escape... It was a bad memory.
Oh, she doubted they'd send her back to the same prison, they'd probably choose a nice new one now. One she couldn't escape from. And that definitely didn't help in the anxiety department at all. It was nagging, it was gnawing. She hated it.
Grey eyes stared at the deck of cards and she sighed.
"Ten minutes ago I wanted to play, now I just want to- to. I don't know what. Be somewhere else, be someone else."
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