It's Fun to Be Scum [Open]

[Vako]

“Ra za malako ruo!!!”

A bloody Weequay yelled out raising his fists in the air. Behind him there lay on the floor another Weequay, but his face was far more battered and bruised. Around him there were others like him, who all began to congratulate him on tenderizing his opponents face so successfully. The large multitude of other races took notice of the fight, though none were as congratulatory as his fellow Weequay. But a fight on the dance floor was far from uncommon at one of Dalgot’s parties.

The “Celebration Hall”, as Dalgot had named it when he had the palace built, was massive. It was large enough to fit a pair of decent sized light freighters in, and still have a bit of room left over. The dance floor alone was the size of a landing pad. The main entrance into the room was through two large double doors, with a set of guards standing out front. It led there from a long hallway which ran straight to the front of the palace.

At the left wall there was a huge bar that ran half the length of the room. It had bottles on its shelves of every color one could think of, and over a dozen bartenders frantically trying to keep up with the unending orders for more drinks. Every few seconds a serving slave would run up with a platter and glasses would be set down upon it. Then they’d go running back into the crowd trying to find the ones that ordered it. On the other side of the room there was a large counter with food being placed on it in a great buffet style. Through a small hole one could see a kitchen, where an army of chefs prepared fine food in mass quantities. Just beside it sat remarkable cluster of tables, benches, and chairs. Most of them were in use, but others were just tipped over and lying on the floor. Creatures of every shape and size were there feasting on the food that was being prepared very close by.

The lights in the Celebration Hall were dimmed down, but flashed through many different variations ranging from orange and blue to green and red. At the right side of the room on a raised platform there was a band of musicians. The mixed species group played very upbeat music and had an impressive system linked in so that all could hear. Though it couldn’t be seen, an energy shield protected them from stray laser blasts. Dalgot had it put in, after an incident at a previous party where someone had shot the group leader and the music all sounded a bit off for the rest of the night. This was something he had opted to avoid in the future, and so he installed a shield.

Straight at the back of the room, there was a ramp that led up to a balcony. The balcony however had no railing around it. There were many people on it, but the most prominent was Dalgot the Hutt himself. A drink in one hand, and a fist full of brown much in the other, he stuffed his face. His deep laugh could be heard from all around as he told stories of his days as a pirate to a group of people that were gathered around him.

The Celebration hall was filled with people. No one really knew how many, but the number was easily in the thousands. There was no organization amongst them. Different species, big and small, moved passed each other. Some places were more crowded then others, but the bar and tables remained fairly easy to navigate. The dance floor was where the bulk of the people were. Not everyone was dancing there, some were just standing in clumped clusters, laughing and yelling. All around beautiful woman slave and not, were around. Dalgot kept his guests happy, and that usually was a great help.

People there varied immensely. Some were clearly rich, high class and proper as they wore fine clothing and stayed away from the poorer looking people. Others looked like they’d just gotten out of a fighters pit, wearing nothing but pants and the scars on their bodies. Many carried weapons visibly on their person, and looked like they could tear durasteel in half with their teeth. Others seemed small and frail to the point where if you breathed on them too hard they’d collapse. But everyone there knew what they were getting into, and few would risk it if they weren’t prepared.

Hovering three feet off the ground, Vako made his way from the buffet towards the bar. In his right hand there was a plate which was loaded with a wide variety of food that one could eat with their fingers. His gray skinned face with white tattoos shown differently with the many colors the passed over the people. After two seconds of trying to dodge through people, Vako flapped his wings strongly and began to fly over everyone in front of him. He wasn’t the only creature there with wings, and he noticed another person flying over the crowd with bug like wings the same moment he was. Still it was an advantage that he had which he readily used.

He came in close to the bar, and moved the rest of the way at the usual three feet. The armada of stools that were in front of the bar was of no concern to him, he was fine with hovering the way he was. He moved his eyes around to find a bar tender and set the plate of food down as he did. To his right came running up a human in brown clothing.

”Ta’nch ib conzotu.” Vako ordered in Huttese ”Sal’uvo du” holding his hand up to show the size of the drink he wanted, which seemed rather large. It was however not an intoxicating drink, merely something to give him energy. Being a Toydarian, Vako needed a lot of food and drink that was high in energy so that he could maintain his metabolism. It was quite common for his species and he took a bite from his plate as he waited.

Vako moved the small blaster rifle that was slung around his back just behind his right arm. He knew well enough to bring it to a place like this. The first time he’d been there was while he was still with “The Black Rock Brigade”, and there had been a full on shoot out between a few of the guests outside. Vako wasn’t involved, but he knew better then to pack light.

Behind him the bar tender came back up, a red drink in his hand. As it was set down Vako snatched it up between his three fingers and said nothing to the man. He took a drink from it, and as he did he took a moment to attempt to count how many bottles were on the shelf just in front of him.

[Poludnica]

Ambient

A curling streak of smoke snaked lazily from its ashy origins, rising upwards towards the ventilation shaft to mingle with the dirty vapor already lingering there. The tip of the cigarette flared a brilliant red, warmly illuminating the face of the fair haired woman drawing upon it before fading back into a near nothingness. Golda coughed and released the acrid smoke building in her lungs. With a flicker of her wrist, the human threw away still burning butt. Even the cigarettes didn't taste good today.

A residual bass from a band drew her attention to the scene across the large dance floor. She couldn't recognize the singer nor the tune. Probably some local fame. Prying her gaze from the hypnotic lights of the scene, Golda walked over the table and scooped few snacks from it. With her in hands, she decided to take a little walk around the spacious interior. There were hundreds of people of countless species, some of them Golda couldn't even place or name.

Overwhelmed by the sheer number of beings, she decided to take the breather near the entrance. Cursing herself for coming to this wretched planet, Golda squeezed through incoming masses of people. There was some ruckus in the middle of the dance floor and for a moment, the woman watched interested. A Weequay , of course, who else. Then again who was she to judge them; only couple of years back one could find this particular woman in maybe more elegant but not so different situation. The memories of fights, lost and won resurfaced in her mind, causing a small pang of nostalgia.

It took surprisingly long to finally feel a brush of fresh air ...if you could call anything on Nal Hutta fresh. The planet was a swamp of chemicals and sewage. Even the Factory District on Coruscant didn't look this bad. But there was something her home world didn't have – possibilities. In her line of work Coruscant was a dangerous place as the law enforcement did their job. For most of the time. Here, however, the only law were Hutts.

This party was suppose to be a chance. A chance to finally meet proper people and start to make real money. So far, it didn't meet Golda's expectations. No other crowd than you would see in an average nightclub. In a glassy surface of the doors she noticed her own reflection which immediately led her to huff in a frustration. The carefully made braid was coming loose, the only thing Golda put work into before coming here. The rest of her apparel a generous person would call average. Simple , leather bantha pants and dark blue tank top didn't scream – lady much but it also wasn't her purpose here.

After weighing pros and cons, pondering if to leave this party or give it a chance; shuffling her feet for a bit, finishing her snacks Golda decided there was only one sensible thing to do – get drunk. The anxiety grew as the crowd of people was thickening but the woman refused to just give up and dealt with the knot of unpleasant feelings in the most popular Galaxy-wide way.

A tangy whisper of a scent wafted through the air to tease the the woman's nostrils as she sniffed the curious green liquid. She vaguely remembered drinking similar beverage but you could never be sure. That was the thing of interspecies gatherings – you never knew what you could eat and stay safe. ”Leaving on the edge...” Golda sighed and downed the thick, sweet drink. Warm feeling immediately spread from her stomach to the tip of her head. Yes, that she could do for the rest of the evening. At least for two more drinks. Shouldn't bring any harm.

[Vako]

(So I don't have to tell everyone individually, there is no posting order. Go when you want to go.)

Giving up on counting, Vako looked down. He was one who liked order, and some form of organization. The bottles didn’t have any that he could readily discern. They weren’t in order from size or color. He knew that they were in their proper place, but that didn’t help when he was trying to find some way to measure them all. He took a drink from the large container that was in front of him.

Hearing someone arrive beside him, he looked to his right. Slowly from his peripherals he could make out that the person was human, or at least seemed to be. He then turned his head to take in the full view of the person. Bright colored hair, and thin. He knew that by the standards of most in the galaxy this person was pretty. But as a Toydarian, she seemed as foreign in anatomy to him as he no doubt did to her.

He looked out over the crowd again, moving his shoulder to move his blaster rifle as he did. He wondered if he’d see someone he knew for a moment, but gave up on it seconds later. No one he would know would be there for that. He had come alone, and hadn’t told anyone he’d be there. Therefore the likeliness was next to none.

A short set of words came from the person next to him and Vako picked them up. It was loud, even the beating of his wings made it somewhat difficult to hear. Their proximity however aloud him to discern what she’d said, and he knew it immediately to be wrong.

”Living.” Vako corrected. ”Living on the edge” The phrase was a common one, and one he’d heard often. He thought it might be the woman’s accent, but Vako’s time spent on the Rim had aloud him to alleviate him of most of his own. And he didn’t speak galactic basic as a first language, or even a second. ”I’d hope that you don’t show such a broken element to the other aspects of your own people.” Vako was referring to her being human. His speciesist tendencies never did fail to make themselves known, and here was a first meeting where he was practically throwing it at the other person.

[Poludnica]

That drink was good, damn, maybe if she could smuggle a bit on Coruscant...It left sweet, sticky layer on a tongue like something between an alcohol and fudge. Golda couldn't even tell what species produced it. Greedily, the human downed half of another glass before freezing still with lips pressed against the cold surface.

Something began to nag at the back of her mind, a detail that demanded attention, a sliver of rational thought fighting to get through to the growing inebriation. There was a strange sound vibrating through the air aside from the lively music. It was strange noise, something between frantic flapping of wings and a buzz. Golda took the half-empty glass away from her lips and looked at the source of this disturbance right at the right moment as the creature began to speak.

At first she felt shudder of disgust as if something was crawling up her skin. Almost immediately the woman tried to scratch her neck. It's this sound...” Golda realized, as if the swarm of locust was near by. Toydarian wings...Then there was the insult. She rolled her eyes as it happened more than often in her life. From both – humans and aliens. From the former on Coruscant, from the latter – everywhere her kind was unwelcome. Though it was first time someone was getting so uptight about the slip of the tongue. Especially on Nal Hutta.

”No, I don't. Do you?” The woman said with a scoff, crossing arms on her chest in a haughty manner. Fair brows furrowed and went up in a patronizing expression. Two drinks before she would back down as not really a rivaling type anymore but when losing control the old Golda emerged. Unruly and feisty one.

Pale, gray orbs assessed the Toydarian before her as the body tensed, preparing for a fight or flight if the situation went awry. He ..or she, Golda could never tell with such beings, didn't look particularly menacing but in this Galaxy first impressions were mostly wrong , but on a planet like this wrong could mean 'dead' very easily.

Slowly, the human put the glass on the table, considering for a moment throwing it at the Toydarian but fortunately, she didn't drink this much. Then again, the alien certainly deserved it. ”Anything else?” Golda asked , growing hostility easily audible in her normally rather warm and velvety voice. Sparkles of cold anger flashed in the woman's eyes, betraying the woman's feelings even more.

[Vako]

The woman before him was getting upset. Vako could see it in her face. He didn’t know why she was there or who she was. But that did not keep him from being able to size up a situation very well. As angry as she might have been however, the evident amount of weaponry that was on Vako’s person would likely keep her in line. Unless she had been drinking as heavily as many of the others at the party were, which may cause her to make serious errors in judgment. Vako’s judgment was more methodic, but rather extreme in many cases.

”That depends on your point of view.” Vako answered. In spite of the woman’s anger, Vako was a very talkative person and had little trouble with delving into a deep conversation with a person he didn’t know. ”It is unusual for one, such as myself, to be in this position without a strong sense of duty. For Toydarians to live and travel with a blaster in hand isn’t one that’s widely looked on by our own as an avidly chosen lifestyle.” Vako flapped his wings a bit quicker and held his drink in his hand as he moved over the bar.

Vako was, by the standards of most he came across, over educated. He knew a great deal about galactic politics and places of the universe. He tended to stick to a select few areas, but that didn’t prevent him from expanding his knowledge over a wide swath of things. It helped to be smarter then other people, or at least know more then they did. This helped Vako keep his mentality of being better then everyone around him.

Having noticed earlier where the bartender had placed the bottle when he gave the woman the drink, Vako flew up over it. His quick motion of wings didn’t do much to blow things around, but it felt like a light breeze to anyone else. Vako grabbed the bottle off the back shelf. It was green and Vako didn’t know what it was off the top of his head. He wasn’t really a drinker, he had his health to worry about.

”On the other hand, Toydarians have a long tradition of fighting each other during Ba’l a lug’I shah.” Vako elaborated using his native tongue. ”So you could say I’m merely upholding my part of the whole.”

Vako flew back over the bar. As he did his eye caught one of the bar tenders. The human looked as though he was going to say something, but stopped as he noticed the hardware all over Vako’s body. Coming back to where he was, Vako set the bottle of green liquid down in front of the woman. It wasn’t a show that he was recanting his statement, he would hold to his insult. But it made the interaction easier none the less.

”But this part of mine makes me inquisitive.” Vako pointed out. ”And thus I wonder, who are you, and why are you here?” In Vako’s mind this woman had more in common by the looks of her with the slave girls running around serving, then the trashy guests.

[Fromikeable]

"C'mon spacer bo-"

WAM!

Down fell the Ithorian mid-sentence. As the brown mass hit the floor with a thud, his companions looked on shocked before retreating into the crowd. Over the the downed sentient stood a 6'2" human in a rugged jacket and dark shirt. Below his waist, the human wore messy pants, military boots, and two belts; one holding tools, and the other carrying two sidearms. The smuggler's dark, short hair was ruffled, but they complimented his blue eyes.

The human grabbed the humanoid and brought its face close to his own scruffy chin. The human knelt down to the Ithorian and spoke as quietly as he could over the cavalcade of sound coming from the crowd and band. "Listen up, Hammerhead. If you touch me again, I'll make sure go home you go home a lung or two short." The human then let the Ithorian fall to the ground and scramble off.

Horst was in no mood for big-shots tonight.

The smuggler checked his pockets before straightening out his attire. He hadn't shown up for a brawl, but as usual one had found him no problem. Just once it'd be nice to show up for something and NOT get punched at. The smuggler blamed his size; in a world where everything depended on reputation, giving off an initial impression of toughness was a good way to get targeted.

Horst sighed as he patted pockets. Nothing was missing so far as he could tell, so it appeared as though he had not been pickpocketed. At least something is going right tonight.

Horst had shown up hoping for some better work. Smuggling jobs were easy to find of course, but if you wanted to make real money, you needed to make connections But in order to make connections, you had to show up to shindigs like this, and so far there was nothing worthwhile coming his way. He had gotten a few offers for drug racketing, but even a directionless smuggler had standards.

Just wish standards didn't mean having fewer credits than a rancher.

Horst moved to the bar. He had managed a delivery before arriving to the party, and had every intention to use all of his new-found credits on a night to forget it all.

Horst leaned against the bar with his forearms, allowing his back to become a bit more horizontal. He rapped on the counter and as soon as a server arrived, Horst ordered his usual: a Bantha Buster, hold the rocks, sprinkle the snow. As the server disappeared, Horst scanned the faces along the bar. Down a ways were two of the Ithorians he had been fighting. They eyed him, and he smirked back. Slightly closer, Horst could see a Rodian slumped over and out cold. It appeared his pockets were being raided by another Rodian.

Horst sighed. No one appeared to be anyone useful as far as he could see. The server returned with his drink, and Horst took it begrudgingly. If this was what the entire evening was going to be like, he might as well leave.

The smuggler downed his drink as a couple next to him began a conversation. With little better to do, He listened in, hoping something of use might come of it.

[Clarylla]

Sforza stretched to her tiptoes, attempting to peer over the throngs of beings that crowded the mansion, but settled back to the ground as she nearly lost her balance.

"I wash told there would be free booze." she grumbled, steadying herself against the wall. "But have I sheen one drop of it?"

Technically, the little Omwati had seen plenty of beverages of an alcoholic nature. The problem was that all of them had been firmly grasped in one appendage or another, discouraging anyone from sneaking a sip. And she had yet to find any of the multiple bars supposedly scattered throughout the party.

She bent to sling her duffel of instruments across her body, blissfully unaware of the deadly swish of a Gammorean's axe over her head as he took offense to the Trandoshan leaning against a pillar behind her. By the time Sforza managed to duck, wriggle, and elbow her way to the hall, most of the room's occupants had taken offense to one thing or another and were happily brawling.

The Omwati paused in the hall, flattening herself against the wall to avoid getting run over. "Now. Bar, where ish it? Even a sherving droid would be acsheptable at thish point..." Giving up on seeing over the taller guests, she sidled along the wall until it opened into a grand hall. A small...thingabob. Critter. Being. Whatever....zipped over the throng and landed --

-- at the bar. "Sho that'sh where it ish." Sforza growled (in E-flat minor) and wished for wings of her own. The dance floor looked more like a fighting ring from where she stood...it was in between her and alcohol. Dark indigo eyes narrowed behind smoked glass; small ribcage expanded with a deep preparatory breath. She pushed her precious, precious instruments around to her marginally more protected back and set off into the crowd, elbows and curses flying, leaving a trail of disgruntled guests. "Get out of my way, shithshpit! Mushician, coming through!"

Incredibly, Sforza made it to the bar unmolested, even by the completely sloshed Jawa she pushed off a barstool. "Baaaarkeep!" One metallic fist clanked against the polished surface before she hastily hid it in a pocket. "Shomething shtrong. Quickly, now, I'm on for the nexsht shet."

But the barkeeper was more interested in a developing tiff between a blonde human-looking female and the little flyer Sforza'd seen earlier; he kept polishing the same glass over and over. Sforza snarled something uncomplimentary and unintelligible, but settled for stealing the blonde's glass of something green and sticky.

[Charlie Sharper]

The entrance to the palace was adored with various banners and signs of Dalgot's pirate syndicate welcoming all the guests to the aforementioned Hutt's party. To say Morwynn didn't want to be there was an understatement, after Ervisa left the crew, Pala started getting distant. Well, more distant and after they arrived on Nal Hutta, the twi'lek disappeared, leaving only a note saying 'Goodbye Morwynn'. The Zeltron guessed that Pala was resuming the search for her father. Morwynn told herself that it didn't matter, but she couldn't help feeling that she had lost her family again. The next day the dock manager told her that Pala had left Morwynn the Tease, but she had no interest in keeping it, it wasn't home anymore, not without Ervisa and Pala, so Morwynn sold it to the first person who looked at it, who paid her much lower then market value. Most of the credits went to cover the rather outrageous port fees that she had incurred and the 'sales fee' that the dock master informed her she owed, the price of being unconnected on a corrupt world. The rest she spent on an apartment, which she paid up for two months with the last of her credits, giving her those two months to find work.

She had heard about this part in a cantina and figured that it was as good a place as any to make contacts. As she passed into the entranceway, she saw several guards, some gamorreans and weequy, along with some of the party guests meandering around. She proceeded through the long entranceway, which opened up into the massive main hall. Morwynn made her way towards the bar opposite the stage and sat down for a drink.

The Zeltron waved over the bartender, "Corellian whiskey, on the rocks." The bartender quickly obliged and poured the drink. She turned away from the bar and sipped her drink as she looked over the massive room. She could see beings of every variety moving about, it was a wonder that she could even think with all the thoughts, feelings and pheromones swirling around the room.

She looked over as a tall human walked up to the bar, ordering a drink. He was a rugged looking man who was probably in his late thirties to early forties looking like he wasn't in the best of moods. Morwynn got the feeling he might be there for the same reason that she was. "Quite the party..." She said as she took another sip of her drink.

[Fromikeable]

Horst's eavesdropping yielded little. The human and Toydarian had spoken of nothing but a turn of phrase and had promptly struck up a exchange of insults. It made Horst chuckle, at least. A couple of maroons...

A Zeltron then appeared from the crowd and ordered a Corellian whiskey. The statement made Horst a little reminiscent of his earlier days, and he could respect a woman who could handle a real beverage. As the bartender began to pour out the whiskey, Horst swirled his own glass, now empty. "Make that two, barkeep."

"Quite the party..." the Zeltron remarked, sipping her whiskey. The Zeltron wasn't entirely wrong; if Horst had been there just for the heck of partying, he thought he might actually be having a good time. Fortunately, it seemed like this lady and he were on the same page.

Horst looked the Zeltron over. She was relatively young; he guessed no older than thirty. She was pretty, and her hair was a vibrant shade of blue. Horst couldn't deduce much about her from a glance. So far as he could tell, though, she wasn't there to party, to "service", nor to seek anything in particular. Overall, she seemed as lost and bored as he did.

Horst finally chugged his whiskey, and grinned as the warm sting enveloped his throat. After a refreshed Aah, Horst responded, "I've seen better. No class here; just drunk, senseless frivolity. Maybe some drugs." Horst smiled. "Although I'm not exactly a credible judge."

Horst refilled his glass and raised it to a toast. He was a little tipsy after two Bantha Busters and a whiskey, so anyone he could even remotely relate to made the evening just a little better."To smiling everyday and a weighted pocket." He again swallowed his drink whole.

[Poludnica]

Her stubborn, angry resolve crumbled as the creature didn't mean anything hostile. It was almost as if the Toydarian had used the offensive comment to start a simple, social chat. Golda blinked, for now deciding to ignore the the alien which didn't seem to matter as he kept talking. About things the woman didn't really care about so it was only natural to down the rest of the glass.

The flapping noise of wings grew stronger and Golda clenched her teeth, trying to suppress get it off me, getitoffmegetitoffme thought that automatically flashed right below the surface of inebriated haze. ”Uhuh...” She made a sound that was suppose to indicate interest but it was pretty obvious the first couple of sentences were lost on her.

The word that caught her attention was 'fighting' and as if on cue, Golda pried her pale grey eyes off another drink toward the flying creature. 'I wouldn't know.” She shrugged, still unpleasantly offended by the racist attitude but the woman ultimately cooled off. Up until the Toydarian flew passed her causing goosebumps to raise on her skin from a sudden rush of air. She shuddered unwillingly from growing disgust. There was something in this sound that made her uneasy. It just felt so unnatural.

Her gaze followed the creature, trying to peg if his kind were more of bug people or mammal people. Or both...Golda's eyes narrowed suspiciously when a bottle of the similar green alcohol was placed before her. It was obvious the Toydarian was trying to be nice or at least to make conversation. A part of her wanted to just smack him with this bottle across the head, then again it wouldn't be neither wise nor profitable. If the creature was a contact that was worth having, Golda would swallow down her pride like usually. If it was only her life that dependent on it then maybe things would have been different but since Eli had been born she became much more cautious.

Chastising herself in thoughts for trying to pick unnecessary fight, Golda reached to take the bottle. “Getting drunk?” Was her first answer but after a moment of hesitation, the woman decided to add something more. ”I am looking for someone that wants something ...acquired or moved to Coruscant.” Stealing or thieving weren't the words she liked to use when describing her line of work. ”Are you working for Dalgot...mister...miss.....” Golda arched her brow, trying to decide if the alien before her was a male or female.

[Vako]

Blinking a moment as the answer came in, Vako looked to the ceiling. It was high, and a natural instinct of challenge for him suggested he fly up to touch it. But he had no real need to do so. It was one thing to do that when no was around, but right now he was amidst a conversation that he started. That didn’t actually mean a terribly much to him. He could go from one person to another without thinking anything of it. For now he kept on listening.

”Vako.” he responded. The evidently male dominant sound of the name was probably enough to answer what his gender was. He did not answer for the mister or miss as it was not a custom where he was from. Given that he had no reason to respond to it. The idea that she was having trouble discerning what he was he attributed to human ignorance and the woman drinking. She was young, and she was probably stupid. This would allow Vako to let it go.

”I do not work for Dalgot, but I can say it seems you’re a bit far from your… zone of play.” Vako pointed out. He lifted his container and took a quick drink from it. ”Nal Hutta isn’t exactly in the core, and most here have little trouble moving things there.” Vako had a snide smile form on his face. ”And I don’t think many here would presume you to be there first choice to do such a thing anyway.” Vako gave a harsh cackle after he spoke. He was mocking her for her appearance and age. There weren’t many that would trust someone like that do anything, and Vako knew it.

Vako took note then of another human to his left. This one was the opposite of the one he’d been talking to. He was older, larger, and a male. Without a doubt he was some sort of fringe worker, but Vako had no idea. What he did here was him talking about the party itself. Vako immediately saw another opportunity to speak to more people. Turning to face him, Vako continued flapping his wings while lifting his drink to his mouth.

”I heard the last one was worse.” Vako said commenting on the drunken mindlessness that the party was filled with. He did not toast with the man, he had no need to. He just picked up where his previous statement ended. ”They had the center converted to a fighting ring and had a Reek joust.” Vako took a drink from his cup and tilted his head. ”I believe they had some trouble with keeping the gamblers out of the ring… and the Reek in.” Vako’s implication carried the weight that many were killed or injured. But that was the risk that came with this sort of party. Either way, it would have been fun to watch.

[Poludnica]

((Clarylla, I noticed your stealing the glass but wanted to finish Vako interaction first, so Golda can move on. ^.^ I kinda should say it earlier I guess >.>))

The creature's name sounded very unfamiliar but Golda settled for 'he'. It wasn't really this important to get his gender right as the Toydarian wasn't bothered by the woman's confusion. Though it was probably that his later snide remark was just the right payback. Golda's eyes narrowed again as comments about her looks, age or profession could be considered pushing just the right buttons. ”Look who's talking. An oversized fly.” The woman snapped despite all the arsenal hanging on the alien's corpulent body.

Fortunately for her and probably everyone else in the vicinity, the Toydarian preferred sound of his own voice to any other, turning to harass someone else. An older, tanned man could hopefully stand up to that annoying, flapping...flea. Yeah, a flea. Golda smiled at what was in her opinion a creative insult and turned away to take another sip of her new favorite green goo. ”Heyyy...” A sound of displeasure and annoyance rolled of the woman's lips when she noticed the glass was missing.

Looking left and right, her pale ,grey eyes finally found the sneaky thief. It was a small female, obviously not a human but not a species Golda could name. Sharpness of the alien woman features had a bird like quality to them, including hair that after short inspection appeared to be delicate feathers. Had someone crossed a human with a sparrow when I wasn't looking...? The human watched the other woman with a dumbfounded expression. ”You took my drink.” Golda finally spoke up, trying to look intimidating as much as her soft, girly features would allow that of course which had rather comical effect. One thing someone like her couldn't do was to be menacing, threatening or even taken seriously most of a time.

[Charlie Sharper]

Morwynn looked over at the tall grizzled man as he ordered the same thing she did. Big was a good word to describe him, he was over six foot and very muscular. He looked older then Morwynn by a good five to ten years and had a grizzled look to him. By the way he held himself she guess former military. She then looked away back at the party, mentioning sarcastically about bad it was, "I've seen better. No class here; just drunk, senseless frivolity. Maybe some drugs." The man then smiled. "Although I'm not exactly a credible judge."

She looked at him again as he had his glass refilled, she could tell he was loosening up now. "To smiling everyday and a weighted pocket." Morwynn raised her drink and tipped her head to him before they both downed there drinks. After downing her drink she ordered another, but while she waited on the drink, she heard the human woman yell about her drink being stolen.

Morwynn quirked an eyebrow at the whole situation before turning back to the human man. "So, what brings you here?" She asked trying to be heard over the crowd and music. It wasn't the most social of settings, but she decided to shrug it off and try and make a contact.

[Fromikeable]

"So, what brings you here?" the Zeltron asked, sipping her drink and yelling slightly over the music. Horst wished they would turn it down; divinity forbid they let anyone have a conversation.

"Same thing that half of everyone else is here for, I suspect," he shouted back, running his fingers across his glass. The mention of work just reminded him how useless the night had been, and how he'd almost prefer merc work to this. Still, here he was. At least this lady made things a little better. "Lookin' for work, maybe some new friends. On that note," he extended his hand in a point as the song stopped, and everything became audible for a moment, "why are you here?"

That was then the Toydarian chimmed in. He had been sitting on Horst's other side arguing with some other person, and now he seemed more interested in Horst.

The Toydarian noted the history of a former party that had some problems with a Reek pitt. Horst tried to imagine it; Reek tearing people to pieces while drunks and drugees clambered over the pitt walls thinking they could tame the beasts. A voluntary slaughter.

... then again, maybe Horst was just a little too uncreative. He shrugged; he was just glad not to have been there. Responding to the Toydarian, Horst asked, "Do Hutts ever throw good parties?"

[Vako]

Vako tilted his head back and took a heavy drink from his large cup. With no alcohol in it there wasn’t even the slightest burn. In fact that drink itself had a fruity tang to it. It was sweet when it hit his tongue and smooth when it went down. As it did Vako felt the surge of energy from the drink suddenly hit him.

That was the exact reason he had that in the first place. Without the energy he’d be tired from flapping his wings all day. Opting for flying instead of sitting or standing was a very tasking choice for a species to have chosen, but it wasn’t anything that would live without.

Behind him, Vako knew he heard the woman he had been speaking to seconds earlier say something. He hadn’t heard the first part, but he did recognize the insult, referring to him as a giant insect. He opted for a reaction that would be less confrontational then some others. Had he been dealing with someone that was an actual threat he might have done something aggressive, but this was a frail human woman who as far as he could tell was unarmed. Instead he lifted his right arm, and placed his thumb on his center finger. In the exaggerated and dramatic motion, he slid the small blade that was attached to his finger to its full extension. The small, yet very sharp, blade glistened with the lights. He brought it down quickly onto his plate of food, stabbing a piece of meat and bringing it up to his mouth. He kept his back to her, but the message itself was clear enough.

Chewing on the piece of meat he thought about the gruff looking human’s question. He bobbed his head left and right as though he was swishing the consideration through his mind. ”That answer would vary on your definition of a good party.” Vako pointed out with the meat at the side of his mouth. He swallowed it and then continued. ”If you’re looking for like minds and people of similar stature, this is as good at gets.”
Vako stretched a tendon in his neck and gritted his tusks. ”But… if your expecting something… high class like they have on some pretty Republic world? Ahahaha, you’re in the wrong system.” Vako added his typical cackle.

As far as Vako was concerned this was a fine party. He’d been a mercenary soldier for most of his life, and this was about what every party he’d been to was like. He’d never actually been to some high class party with actual standards. So this for him was fine, but it said something about the man he was talking to by suggesting this party was less then what he was expecting.

[Clarylla]

Sforza continued to sip the sticky green drink, not really paying attention to anything else except the safety of her instruments. Those stayed on her lap, clutched tight in one mechanical hand, though she itched to be up on the stage, playing, instead of down at the bar. She tipped the glass up, tilting her head as far back as she could without falling over to get at the last few emerald drops.

"You took my drink."

The accusation startled Sforza into inhaling the last bit of green liquor, sending her into a momentary fit of coughing. Recovering quickly, she looked around for the source of the slightly petulant voice and found a baby-faced humanoid - certainly human looking, but you never could trust appearances - glaring at her.

Sforza stared back insolently over the top of her glasses. "I did not shteal your drink. I adopted it. It wash lonely, and you were neglecting it." Resting her chin on one hand, she grinned lazily, tongue worrying the last sticky remains of the drink from the corner of her mouth. "Findersh keepersh, loshersh, weepersh." The other hand reached out and poured her another shot of the...wossname. Green. Alcoholic. Sticky as heck...absinthe, yes, that was it...and lifted it to her lips.

[Poludnica]

Faint blur covering her vision told Golda she had drunk too much. Not used to such amounts of alcoholic beverages, her mind turned into a mush of random thoughts and association. It didn't stop the woman from saying what came to the drunk brain. ”You..you give it right back...you...you...thing” The blond human slurred, trying to keep everything cohesive. Golda leaned on the table, feeling a wave of nausea. Maybe the strange bird human had done her a great favor taking the drink away. ”Mhm...” The woman muttered, cream colored skin turning very pale, very quickly. 'I think I ...will...no...uhmm....going...” She pressed hands to her mouth, feverishly looking around to find a more secluded place.

Wave of sickness came and passed once the green goo of a drink passed her stomach and went into the blood stream. Golda exasperated in relief, indifferently watching the alien female stealing the whole bottle. ”Knock yourself out.” The blond woman snapped at the grinning thief. She felt her head pounding from the strong liquor. It was high time to look for some water.

Icy blue eyes scanned the table, but Golda often found herself losing focus and had to start again. Feeling sick again, the woman wondered if she shouldn't sit couple of hours alone in a corner to sober up. Then, there is was! A nice, cold bottle of fresh water. Carefully , the woman reached for the precious liquid, her eyes shifting suspiciously toward the alien bird human, if she wanted to steal this from her as well. ”Mine...” Golda hiccuped, to highlight her rights to the bottle of water.

[Fromikeable]

Horst responded in the usual "Mmhm" as he finished his whiskey. He suposed thr Toydarian was right; he was looking at the wrong aspects of this party. Sure the music was awful and blaring, the party-goers drunk out of their minds and wasted, and the actual people of importance seemingly nonexistant, but...

... no, actually this party is still pretty bad. Oh well. At least there was an excuse to be a nobody.

Horst decided he'd might as well try one last time tonight to see if anything of value could come from his efforts. The smuggler rapped on the counter, drawing the barkeep over again, and refilled his glass once more. If he was going to be there, he'd might as well be there too drunk to care.

"So..." the smuggler began, swiveling himself around, putting his back to the counter and leaning back on his elbows. He was determined to make this little escapade worth something. "How about some names?" He looked around a little dazedly; the liquor was beginning to take its hold, and things were starting to become a little unstable.

Unfortunately, the mind is the first to succumb to alcohol. The smuggler broke one of his big rules when dealing with strangers, and decided he'd win their trust with a simple gesture.

A simple gesture, but a dangerous one.

"They call me Horst."

[Vako]

Flapping his wings a bit harder, Vako lifted up about an inch. There was no real specific reason for it. He just decided that he wanted to be raised up a bit higher. Achieving the altitude he wanted he continued to look over the people that were now in front of him. Primarily the older human stood out in his mind. Vako didn't know who he was, but the way he seemed to hold himself, and his opinion on the party screamed Republic to Vako.

This was just a generalization that Vako always made, which wasn't always wrong. People that tended to have much higher standards were usually from the Core, and core meant Republic. He came across that sort of person throughout the galaxy all the time, and they always were the types that complained about who was around them. People from beyond the Core all came from bad places, and had always been around that sort of scum, so they didn't complain.

"Vako." He answered giving his name. "Formerly of the Black Rock Brigade." Vako introduced himself while tapping on his trunk in reference to his white face tattoo. The Mercenary Army wasn't very well known, and hadn't been a force of much infamy, but it gave Vako's credentials as a Mercenary Soldier well enough.

Not fearing anything that he said having fall out, Vako went straight towards his assumptions. "So, he they call Horst. You look as though you've spent time in a trench yourself." Vako asked regarding him appearing to have been a soldier. Vako didn't necessarily have a problem with the Republic. He'd fought in battle against them before years earlier, and he didn't consider them to be very capable in terms of fighting ability. But aside from that he didn't have much problem with them. Their laws or absence aloud Vako to live the way he wanted, and that was fine with him.

[Fromikeable]

He's a merc then. Horst wouldn't pretend he had ever heard of the Black Rock Brigade before, and it definitely didn't sound like any actual military he had heard of, so that narrowed it down to a social club or a mercenary group, and the marks on the Toydarian's trunk sure as sugar didn't mean he had sold pastries at a bake sale.

That's when the army was brought up. Horst nearly choked on his drink as the Toydarian spoke the word "trench". Why was it that he simply couldn't escape his past? Did it really have to haunt him at every turn even in his life as it stood now?

"Eh heh heh..." the smuggler nervously chuckled. He hadn't expected this mention in the least, and he was totally unprepared. "you could.. you could say that..." The smuggler didn't even try his "I was just a Republic grunt" routine, at least not here. Saying you were in the service in Republic space was one thing, but Hutt space was quite another.

Get a hold of yourself, Stellar! Calm down! The smuggler took a second to clear his throat before putting on a small, fake smile. There were plenty of people at this party that would sooner rip you to shreds for looking unstable than ask you your name. Smoothing out his voice, Horst tried talking again, this time with better results.

"Let's put it this way; I saw a thing or two back in the day." The smuggler also tried to steer the conversation away from himself. If the Toydarian kept digging, the smuggler feared what he might do. "I see I'm not the only one that shoots a gun for the right price."