Zeltrosification

[Dutch]

Jho didn't know why Master Verity had needed to stop by Zeltros. Didn't care.

What he did care about, was the very large and very musclebound herglic that stood between Rikkavi and himself entering the cantina. The curvaceous and searing green neon twi'lek woman behind him cast a verdant sheen over the bouncer's black rubber skin. Hulking and easily four times wider than the devaronian lad, Jho looked minuscule as he stood directly in the herglic's face. His expression akin to someone who just sniffed a hutt. Despite his gigantic proportions, the bouncer had a surprisingly simple look in his eye. The Force around him was very sluggish, warm and fuzzy not unlike a blanket freshly dried. Not the stern authoritative bruiser the owners meant for him to come off as, but a guileless man who's only real desire was for a big hot bowl of durosian noodles from the stand across the street.

"Go get some stupid noodles." Jho would mumble with a light wave of his hand, a simple mind trick cast. The herglic’s eyes went unfocused for a moment before a particularly loud stomach growl boomed from the bouncer’s midsection. Without a word he shuffled around Rikkavi and Jho before he ambled right for the stand. Now left unchecked, Jho turned a thumbs up at the selonian before he stepped into the cantina.

A long stairwell that spilled down, the hall was filled with red neon women that were unmistakably zeltrons and the only source of light. The music hit him first, then the increased temperature soon after. The smell of booze, smoke, and alien sweat quickly filled Jho’s nose. Even more so when he pulled open the door at the bottom of the stairs. He could literally feel the bass of the bith band that wailed away on stage, the roars of patrons gambling on a swoop race across the cantina nearly as loud as the music. Some people danced near the stage, but most seemed to be content nestles into their tables to socialize.

“Told you I could get us in.” Jho grunted to Rikkavi.

---

Tags! DreadPirateMike, Moonfire

[DreadPirateMike]

"You should get a second bowl! To go!" Rikkavi called after the gradually departing bouncer. He had his people's sense of smell, and his own personal disregard for his people's optimal dietary requirements. As such, the attention no doubt paid by Jho to the neon Twi'lek and the implied promise of what lay beyond had been mirrored by his own longing gaze at that very noodle stand. Alas, he had to let it go, for now, or be left behind. "You're a big guy! You might be hungry later!"

He'd been a little skeptical of Jho's proposed night on the town at first. He was initially skeptical of a lot of stuff that Jho came up with; they didn't have a real compelling track record of ending up well. But he usually wound up going along with it anyway, and here he was again. As probably bad ideas went, though, he had to admit this was pretty tame. Sure, he felt a little bad about the mind trick on the bouncer, but it's not like they'd made him do anything he hadn't wanted to anyway. As far as what happened inside...well, he figured Jho was at more risk of this backfiring than him. There were more sentient species roaming the stars than even the most seasoned spacer could recognize offhand, and Selonians mostly tended to be a pretty insular bunch. Most barmen weren't even sure what he WAS at first, much less whether he was the mature example of his species...which technically, he was, if only just. Devaronians were among the earliest of the races to develop hyperdrive, and the males of the species were essentially defined by the need to roam, making Jho INSTANTLY recognizable.

So, as Rikki saw it, this could play out one of two ways. Either they could enjoy some music and some alcohol (Which, unlike a scantily clad Zeltron, hit him much the same way as it did anyone else.), or he could commence Operation: I Don't Know This Guy, and watch Jho make an ass of himself. Either way, win win! So, not only had he gone along with the bad idea this time, but he'd even helped finance it! Verity had left them a LITTLE money; enough to order in if she was delayed, or maybe even waste a little on the slot games, but not enough to do anything REALLY stupid. That was, until Rikki had pointed out an obvious scammer running a shell game. Spotting a couple of obvious offworlders, the man had promised they could triple their money in no time.

To his considerable chagrin, he'd been right. Turned out it took more than some scrub working a street corner to fool the eye of kids who'd grown up watching blaster bolts flying at them.  And Verity always said he didn't practice enough!

"In is the easy part, remember?" he shot back, gesturing to the bar. "Get us some lum ale, THEN I'll start kissing your red ass."

[Dutch]

Jho cast Rikkavi a sideways glance, eyes narrowed querulously at the selonian. Calloused fingers reached into one of the pouches at his utility belt, a pack of Freshport brand cigarettes retrieved. The duraboard box would be flipped open before a single smoke was plucked out along with a small igniter. The devaronian clicked the matte metal igniter as the cigarette was placed between lips. With the other hand protecting the flame from going out, Jho lit and took a long draw of the Devaronian tobacco. The smoke huffed from both nostrils as he exhaled, the box and igniter returned to their pouch.

"Easy. Go find a table."

Both hands were shoved into the pockets at his rear before the lithe devaronian stalked into the crowd. He smoothly navigated the crowd, all brooding scowls and glowering as he moved right for the bar. The duros bartender cast Jho a suspicious look, large red eyes would peer at the lightsaber which hung from his belt. He snapped loudly before gesturing with two fingers at his own black eyes. Once Jho was sure the duros was making eye contact, he let the Force flow from himself to wash across the tender. Cooperative willingness bubbled on the surface of Jho's mind, flavoring the energies that wafted gently around.

"Get us some lum ale."

The bartender stared at the padawan a moment. Jho stared back. Another moment passed, and the duros ducked under the bar to return with a case of lum ale. A couple dozen amber bottles shone brightly in the dancing neon lights of the club, showing rotating scantily clad glowing aliens. Without a word Jho huffed another puff of smoke before both hands grabbed the case. He turned and prowled back to where he felt Rikkavi. Leaving a very lost and confused looking duros at the bar.

Once he had found the selonian, Jho planted the case in front of his fellow padawan. He would turn and lift his cloak, a single thumb hooked around his leather trousers and push down the back of them to reveal a quite red cheek.

"Go ahead Fuzz, pucker up."

[DreadPirateMike]

With a disgruntled cough, Rikkavi waved a paw vigorously so as to try and dispel the cloud of smoke offending his lungs. He briefly considered throwing a little bit of telekinesis behind the effort, but the last time he'd tried that, he'd discovered dramatically and conclusively that he did not yet possess the advanced control and finesse required to manipulate anything in a gaseous state. All he'd managed by the effort was to flatten Jho's cigarette and treat him to a face full of hot ash...which, admittedly, he'd thought was hilarious. Jho, not so much; maybe this wasn't the best venue in which to see how far his training had progressed.

"You know, that actually doesn't get any less nasty the more you do it."

Knowing the protest would, as usual, do well less than nothing to discourage Jho's habit (He wondered from time to time if the horn head actually even liked those things, or if he just found it an easier way to piss people off than crashing speeders.), Rikkavi made his way off through the crowd to do his part, with predictable results. There were no tables free, and unlike Jho, Rikki really didn't like using the Mind Trick...which was a little odd for him, giving how easy a solution it was to so many problems. It just felt scummy.

So he looked, and he found a table occupied only by a single Trandoshan. And it wasn't hard to guess how he'd secured his private table, for the reptilian alien pretty much fit the usual mental image of his race: big, muscular, mean. And in this particular case, looks were pretty accurate, he found as the creature rose from his seat at Rikkavi's approach to snarl down at him.

"Beat it, rodent. I'm saving this table."

"Sure, sure." Rikkavi answered hastily, pretending ignorance of the lizard man's lie. "There are seats at the bar, though. I'd be happy to pay for your next round or two if you'd be willing to-"

"Are you deaf, or stupid? Simple choice, then. Kark off, or make yourself useful. You'd make a nice, soft set of gloves."

"...the burrito was a poor choice." Rikkavi informed the hulking scaled thug, having sensed a specific reason for the Trandoshan's bad mood, and lost his reservations about exploiting it.

"The burrito was a poor choice."

"You should probably hit up the refresher."

"I should probably hit up the refresher." the Trandoshan agreed, visibly distressed.

"And you won't leave until you've come up with the perfect grafitti."

"And I won't leave until I've come up with the perfect grafitti." Came the confirmation as the table's former occupant hurried off, and Rikkavi took a seat at the now vacant table...though not in the same chair. Not long after, Jho found him again, and deposited the reward for their efforts...which would be a far happier development if not for the price he'd agreed to pay. Well, if cheating was the theme of the night, then let it continue.

"You know, I actually just tried practicing. In anticipation of your "finding a way". Turns out I'm anatomically incapable! Sorry about that. Still, I never said I'd do it before drinking. Maybe I'll try again later."

[Dutch]

“That’s gay.” The padawan chided as he shuffled to sit in the booth across from Rikkavi. The leather smelled of chemical cleaner and stale booze, likely just recently cleaned from a drunk’s accident. The round plasteel table between them had the same smell, the cleaner unable to lift the rude graffiti that had been scratched around it. Jho sat with a terrible posture, both elbows on the table and back slouched. He took the last drag of his smoke before it would be plucked from his lips, and shoved into the ashtray at his left.

“Verity always finds a way, don’t she?” Jho replied, using the butt of his lightsaber to pop off the tops of two ales. He reached to place one in front of Rikki, and shoved the case to the other side of the table before drinking his. The devaronian set his lightsaber down on the table next to himself, comfortably within hand’s reach. Another swig, and Jho set it down next to a coaster instead of on it. He let his gaze wander the club, and considered trying to con Rikki into some snafu with the gambling parlor. Maybe after his furry pal had his fill of lum ale. Instead Jho rapped his knuckles twice on the table between the pair.

“Get the board, Fuzz.” He wouldn’t need to say anything else, Rikkavi always knew what to grab. As Jho waited for the selonian do pull the dejarik board from a pouch, he let himself check out a scantily clad twi’lek waitress that sauntered by.

“Think she’d let me grab her lekku from behind?” Jho asked crassly.