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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Dec 26, 2008 17:42:53 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 26, 2008 17:42:53 GMT -5
Trevil Lora'nthe, known simply as Yunas here in the Dragon's Back cantina in the spaceport town of Mos Espa on Tatooine, was running out of luck. He waited for his turn, waiting on the old and rusty sabacc dealer droid, hoping that the randomizer would not change the cards he still held in his hands; he was dangerously close to finishing his Idiot's Array to take home a fair-sized pot of 2,400 credits. The Bothan male's fur was studiously quiet as he sat there, waiting.
He tried not to look down at his cheap chrono, knowing full well that his bartending shift would be starting soon, and that Maso and the others would be yelling at him to get to work. But he needed to win this hand; Trevil needed these credits to continue his search. Being here in Mos Espa was just a stop for him, nothing permanent. The Bothan couldn't understand why anyone would want to live in this dry and desolate place anyway. Tatooine was a far cry from his old world of Bothawui, that was for kriffing sure.
The Rodian changed his cards and upped his wager, starting a new round with Trevil the Bothan. Trevil peered down at his cards, maintaining his agile fur in its vision of nonchalance. If his opponent knew he was so close to a great hand, all would be lost. If his cards changed into a lesser hand, all would be lost. He had the best hand, but if his cards changed, even one of them, his cards would be almost worthless.
The automated droid slowly shifted as Trevil stared at his cards, praying to the Force and any gods that would listen not to change any of his cards. Whatever he did, worked; his cards stayed the same. He called; the Rodian showed his hand. And Trevil's Idiot's Array gave him the whole pot of 2,450. He was overjoyed as he scooped up the credits, all the while telling his opponent that he was coming out of the game. He had to go to work, after all. But hopefully for not much longer. Trevil pocketed his credits, adding them to the ones had already had accumulated from other games and from his meager tending wagers at the Dragon's Back.
The two nodded at each other as the droid shut down, and Trevil once again became Yunas, the bartender, making his way from the dark corner of the cantina up to the front where the bar was. Luckily, he was still a bit early, and so he got out a rag and started scrubbing and wiping down the bartop to prepare for customers. He could hear Maso in the back warming up his, well, whatever he had back there to cook food with. Trevil briefly thought about greeting him but decided against it. After all, he wouldn't be in Mos Espa much longer if all went right from now on.
While cleaning up, Trevil noticed that a few beings had wandered into the cantina while he was playing sabacc in the corner, but they seemed content to sit in their own dark shadows, doing things of business he could only wonder about. That was one good thing about this planet; it was easy to blend into the surroundings and go without notice, with no one bothering you about what you were doing, whether legal or not.
He smiled to himself, thinking about how much closer he was to his prize. Trevil would have whistled, if he was any good at it. Instead, his fur just ruffled around on his head, showing him to be in a fairly good mood. For now. Who could tell what the afternoon and night would bring in terms of customers?
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Dec 28, 2008 19:34:15 GMT -5
Post by Arkangel on Dec 28, 2008 19:34:15 GMT -5
The Shifts were changing.
The Rush was coming.
And all the while, time was slipping, as always, irrevocably away.
Once, an old duelist named Therman had spoken to Maso about time and how it had a way of getting the best of people. Therman was once the Nar Shadaa Duel Champion, long before Maso arrived on the circuit, back when he was known as "One-Shot."
When Maso met him, Therman was a drunk old destitute scalping dueling tickets outside the arena. Surprisingly, Therman's story of his defeat and fall to poverty was a very short one. The Dueling world stopped needing him, but he still needed it.
"One day, when you're Champion, you'll know how sweet that world is. I tell ya, kid... cheers like ringing bells and applause like liquid gold... and girls, kid, all the girls on Nar Shadaa! The Pretty ones, too! It's great while it lasts, kid... but that's just the thing. It don't last. Nothing ever does..."
It was true. In Maso's experience, nothing in life ever truly lasted. Except the smell that came out of the supply cabinet. Maso had tried everything on it, but that odor was the one thing that really had staying power in the universe. Today, it was particularily foul, so much so that it had Maso contemplating just what the original owners had meant when they named the cantina "The Dragon's Back."
Two orders of Womprat stew out and two more in. [glow=white,2,300]Say what you will about the colorful and diverse people of spaceports[/glow], Maso thought, [glow=white,2,300]but when it comes to food, they always order the same. Cheap.[/glow]
Finished with two more putrid bowlfuls, Maso rang the bell and caught a glimpse of Yunas readying for his shift.
[glow=white,2,300]"Yunas, before you set up there, a couple of guys got into a fist-fight in the back there. Little bit of blood. Better grab a mop. And a bucket."[/glow]
He turned back to his cooking, shrugging.
[glow=white,2,300]"Maybe two."[/glow]
Two more orders had come in, and though Maso wasn't the gambler at the Back (it was hard to come by a game of sabaac with Yunas prowling about), but he made a silent wager to himself. One million credits if the first order was womprat stew. Double or nothing that the second one was, too.
Had Maso beem a gambling man, he might have made himself two million credits that day. Though, even that much money wouldn't be enough to buy something to get rid of that smell.
Maso checked the time on his chrono. Ten more minutes, gone for good, irrevocably slipping away like so much stew out of a ladle.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Dec 29, 2008 19:02:22 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 29, 2008 19:02:22 GMT -5
He suppressed a rough growl as Maso called to him about a mess in the back. Trevil knew that bartender was merely just a formality, not a real title. Though he did serve drinks during the evening, it wasn't all he did at the Dragon's Back. Not by far. But he gritted his teeth and forced himself to think happy thoughts as he came out from behind the bar and headed to the small maintenance closet in the back near the kitchen.
Soon, soon he would have enough credits to move on with his search. And only if he continued working and getting paid his full wages. Only if he cleaned up the blood in the back of the establishment. As he filled a bucket with water, he counted credits in his head, figuring out the least amount he would need to get off this foul dry rock and on to better, and wetter, planets. If his figuring was right, he would have enough after another week or two, depending on his winnings and loses of possible sabacc games in the future.
Arriving at the "little bit of blood" Trevil suppressed another growl. Maso was always good at sarcasm with a straight face. No wonder he had mentioned bringing two buckets. But time was ebbing on, and the Bothan needed to clean up fast so he could get back to the bar before it was inundated with customers. He knew that Gliri the Twi'lek waitress hated covering for him, preferring to be out mixing with the customers at the tables.
He brought down his mop and started scrubbing the floor with it, soaking up as much of the blood was possible. His thoughts turned again to his mission as he put mop to water, mop to floor. Trevil was thinking that if Maso brought good words to the owner of the Back, maybe he would get a bonus and could get going even quicker. This made him work even more efficiently at cleaning off the blood.
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Dec 30, 2008 13:06:46 GMT -5
Post by Arkangel on Dec 30, 2008 13:06:46 GMT -5
(While we wait on the others... what say you we have some fun?)
The noontime rush was on its way now, although the term "noon" had a very different meaning on a planet orbiting two suns. For all intents and purposes, noon was defined by when the spaceport staff took their lunch break. About fifteen minutes from now, Maso noted.
As he cut up an order of Dewback tips, he began to wonder to himself whether Dewback tasted better to Tatooine natives or to off-worlders. Granted, nobody actually *liked* his dewback, it was still an interesting notion, and one that so distracted him that he failed to notice when an extravagantly dressed Twi'lek strode into the cantina, flanked by a pair of poorly disguised badyguards. A Noble.
Who knew, maybe Maso would end up getting a tip today, after all?
The Noble made his way immediately towards Gliri, who was currently with customers, and made his order, which Gliri (not always a dumb as she looked) immediately posted to Maso.
Bantha Steak. Medium. Lean-cut with two sides of vertically cut Deb-Deb.
What? No Alderaanian wine with that?
He went to work as the Noble's guards cleared the space around the sabacc dealer droid, where the Noble began playing against a Bith who had been waiting for an opponent. The Bith put up 30 credits, the Noble 3,000. Not surprisingly, the Noble won and, with his guards behind him, convinced the Bith to pay as much of the wager as he could, namely the 134 credits he had on him.
By the time Maso had the order up, the Noble had cleared out three more drunken patrons, most of whom had left the cantina in shame.
Nobles... bad for business.
(Care for an NPC game?)
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Dec 30, 2008 21:44:33 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 30, 2008 21:44:33 GMT -5
((Hmm... I'm sure Trevil would want to take the man's credits...))
Finally it was all clean, well, as clean as dried blood on the old sandy permacrete floor could be, and Trevil walked off to return the mop and bucket to the storage closet. He paused a bit, staying in the back room. Glancing out through the door to the dining area, he saw that even though it was rush time, the cantina was virtually empty. Curious about this, he decided to check with Maso. No one was waiting at the bar, so he felt he had time for this. Plus, he had to tell him he had finished with his ever so delightful chore.
Coming to the kitchen, Trevil pushed open the door, keeping his fur quiet and unassuming. He made his way through the maze of various kitchen equipment, coming up beside Maso who was busy over a stovetop. "Cleaned up the mess." The Bothan gestured a furry hand out to the mostly common area. "Poisoning your customers again, Maso?"
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Feb 10, 2009 21:48:18 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Feb 10, 2009 21:48:18 GMT -5
{Moving along....}
Without waiting for Maso to answer him, Trevil/Yunas headed back out of the kitchen and out towards the bar area. He might as well be available, just in case a whole flood of unlikely customers barreled through in the next few nanoseconds. Sighing to himself, his fur ruffling slightly, the Bothan stood behind the bar pacing slowly back and forth, tidying up here and there. He made a few mental notes of which brands would need reordering and replacing soon.
He picked up a rag and began cleaning out some glasses he had left from the previous night and surveyed the crowd, or lack of one. Luckily for his short stature, the bar wasn't unreasonably high, and he could see out around the large cantina pretty easily. His violet eyes darted around as he scrubbed the glass, almost rubbing a hole through it. Trevil had noticed a very well-to-do Twi'lek currently sitting at the sabacc table obviously going through a large stack of credits.
With wide eyes, his mouth couldn't help but spread into a feral grin, showing off his sharp teeth. Another glance around the cantina showed just a couple of drifters off to the side, going over some business or other, not wanting to get involved unneedlessly with the noble Twi'lek. But the Bothan bartender wasn't quite as wary as they were. He could see an opportunity for some quick credits as easily as the next being. This could finally be his chance to earn enough to get off this Force-saken desert rock.
Heeding that no one needed a drink, he bent down and pulled out his sign "BAR CLOSED, BACK IN 30" and posted it up on the wall behind him. Most of his patrons were regulars anyway and would know where to find him. If someone really needed a fix, he could cash out and go back to work. But something told Trevil that his services wouldn't be needed for awhile.
He moved around the bartop and sauntered over to where the sabacc table was. The Bothan smiled friendly smile at the male Twi'lek, keeping his fur as settled as possible. He must remain unassuming. "Care for a game, good sir? I can see that you are... bored." Trevil glanced at the kitchen before looking at the Twi'lek again. "And I know the chef personally; it shall be a while before your food is ready." Trevil hadn't noticed the empty plates beside the being's hand, revealing that the meal had already been delivered by Gliri and eaten.
Without waiting for an invite, the Bothan seated himself at the table. The bodyguards started to move in but the Twi'lek waved them off. He was always interested in taking easy money, and this Bothan looked like another easy picking. "Of course. Please, sit." It was merely a formality, as Trevil was already seated. "Droid, please deal."
Trevil cracked his knuckles and eyed his cards, fingering his credit purse with the other hand as he did so. He didn't want to appear to eager but nor too timid. So he put down a beginning wager of 200 credits. Let the game begin...
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Meira
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Mar 4, 2009 12:14:58 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 4, 2009 12:14:58 GMT -5
So they had this agreement. It probably wasn't the best of things, but it was a deal. Lash would stay and help work off the money he had lost her from Greegar, and he'd help until the got the dirty spice off of her hands, and until things blew over. The question was... would things blow over? Hutts were stubborn slugs. Palas had a feeling this problem wasn't just going to go away.
But life moves on, and Palas still had work to do. So while they tried to figure out a way to get rid of the spice they had now effectively stolen, Palas decided a quick water run to Tatooine would give them a good number of credits for breathing room and time to think. Her Tatooine runs were always a sure thing. How could water ever lose its value on a desert planet? It couldn't. That's why she put up with the freezing cold of Kuros IV. It was a cash crop she could always rely on.
She left Lash at the ship, telling him to meet her at the Dragon's Back Cantina in a little while, then went to visit her good friend. Good friend wasn't quite accurate. Wenbeck was a greasy old man, rotten to the core and corrupt as all get out. But he paid well.
Palaaas! He said, as she came through the door of his shop. Long time no see, sweet cheeks! He moved around from behind the counter, coming forward as if to embrace her. Palas craftily took a seat at a small table before the man to pin her in his arms. With a chuckle, he sat down across from her. I heard a story about a pretty purple Twi'lek that pulled a fast one on a Hutt back on Nar Shadaa. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that deary... would ya'?
Palas stiffened slightly. News had already spread that fast, had it. Well great. She smiled back at Wenbeck, trying to keep her nose from curling up in disgust. She sounds like a pretty slick girl. I'd do business with someone like that. Wouldn't you?
Wenbeck chuckled again. The sound was interrupted by a phlegmy cough. He grinned though the cough at her. Yes indeed! He said, trying to take her hand in his. She slinked out of his grip, putting her hand under her chin and batting her eyes at him expectantly. He nodded, with a slight giggle. I like 'em slippery. With a wink, Wenbeck stood up and walked back behind the counter to a safe hidden in the wall. After a few moments, he tossed a bag full of credits on the counter. Palas stood, took the bag and wiggled her fingers in goodbye as she walked out the door.
Once outside again, Palas suppressed her gag reflex. She needed a drink. Wenbeck would have a few men come and collect the water later. She had some time to kill. The door to the Cantina slid open silently. She made her way straight to the bar. Give me something strong. She said, sliding a few credits across to the Bothan.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Mar 4, 2009 18:59:18 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 4, 2009 18:59:18 GMT -5
Trevil Loran'the, known simply as Yunas during his stay on Tatooine, couldn't help but let his fur ripple in joy as he moved more of the stately Twi'lek's money toward his own growing pile. In two rounds, he had taken over 3,000 of the being's credits, and would have stayed longer, if he had more time. But sadly he knew it was time to be getting back to the bar. Time was ebbing on, and it would soon be his busiest time. Late afternoon was when a lot of folks in Mos Espa were getting off of work. Plus there were always various other spacers and derelicts, not counting the more regal types such as the Twi'lek he just took in sabaac.
He grinned at the older being, showing his teeth as he shoveled the credits into his purse. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to deal out." He flicked his ears at the bar at the other end of the cantina. "Duty calls." The Twi'lek merely glared at him and left in a huff with his bodyguards. Surely I did not empty him of too many of his 'hard-earned' credits... The Bothan chuckled to himself and shut down the dealer droid before making his way back to the bar.
On his way he noticed that there were quite a few less empty tables, and Gliri was busy shuffling around taking orders and delivering the meals that Maso was slaving over in the back. No wonder he hadn't heard from the man since he left the kitchen earlier. Before ducking into the kitchen, Gliri winked at him; Trevil grinned back.
He took down his sign, officially reopening the bar for business. And not seeing anyone needed immediate attention, he pulled his stool over and perched on the top of it. With the apparatus, he almost appeared the average height of most of the beings in the galaxy. He opened his credit purse and began counting his winnings along with his other various... wages. Ah, soon he would have enough to secure passage off-world. And in something first-class, no less.
When a voice interrupted his thoughts, he almost fell off his chair. His brown fur ruffled agitatedly as he glanced up with his violet eyes to see who was speaking to him. Another Twi'lek? What, did they have a magnet installed outside to attract head-tails or something? Righting himself, he answered. "Yes, ma'am." The Bothan jumped off his stool and wandered down the shelves of liquor, looking for just the bottle.
Luckily for him, the bar wasn't set up too high and he could easily set the glass of pale yellow liquid in front of the purple Twi'lek. He grinned at her as he scooped up the credits and placed them in his pocket with one motion. Maso would never see. And the cantina's owner was never around, either. "Best if you don't ask what it is."
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Meira
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Mar 5, 2009 10:41:22 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 5, 2009 10:41:22 GMT -5
Her fingers massaged at her forehead, trying to hold back the threatening pulses of an oncoming headache. When the Bothan produced the drink, she downed it, unconsciously taking the advice she had barely heard him give. She grimaced slightly at the bitter taste, but the drink left a warm wake in her throat and eased her throbbing head. After a few moments, she almost did ask what it was, but decided against it. Instead, she took the glass in her hand, tapping it lightly against the counter top, signaling for another.
Take it easy Pal. She thought to herself. Wenbeck didn't get on your nerves that much. Palas lifted her head from where it rested on her hand and looked around the cantina. It was fairly full with a late afternoon rush, but she didn't see Lash. Somewhat surprised, she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the bartender. She studied him now, trying to gauge his personality. But you could never know with a Bothan. They were a tricky bunch, but smart... real smart. She had seen him slyly pocket the credits she had placed on the counter, but didn't acknowledge it. What was it to her if this guy skimmed a little off the top?
As she waited for her drink, she set down the credits, plus a little extra and waited for the Bothan to come near with her refill. Maybe she could get more than drinks from him. Maybe he could help her out.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Mar 5, 2009 19:07:45 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 5, 2009 19:07:45 GMT -5
With a couple more customers sidling up to the bartop, the Bothan didn't have time to perch back on his stool after serving the purple Twi'lek. He was busy filling up the two Rodians' orders when he heard her tapping on the bar. And Trevil knew it was her; the noise couldn't be coming from anywhere else. Besides, with a couple months of bartending at the Dragon's Back under his small belt, he could pick out the sound of clinking glass on balla wood any time.
Trevil pocketed the duo's credits before heading up to the other side of the bar and grabbing the purple being's glass. He raised a furry eyebrow at her as he poured in the liquid. Trevil really had wanted to ask if there was a Ryloth convention in town but thought better of it. Instead he went with, "Tough day?" as he set the glass back in front of her. After adding the new credits she had added to the bartop to his purse, he hopped back on his stool to be able to look her in the eye. The Rodians were deep in conversation and looked like lightweights; they would keep for a while. The Bothan picked up a used glass and started wiping it with a rag.
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Meira
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Mar 6, 2009 9:24:55 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 6, 2009 9:24:55 GMT -5
This time, she sipped at the drink. Whatever it was, it was strong, and she wasn't one to let alcohol get the best of her. The bitterness was easier to take this time. Maybe the first shot dulled her taste buds slightly. Whatever the case, the drink was now sippable, and it hadn't lost it's warming quality. Funny, that a warm drink could be a comfort on a desert planet, but there ya go.
The extra credits got the Bothan's attention, or maybe he just felt like sitting down and having a chat. Either way, he made the usual inquiry to her day. It was a phrase that never changed, no matter what cantina, no matter what planet. And it was usually a safe assumption to make. She nodded her head. Tough day. She repeated, looking into the yellow liquid of her drink before taking another sip.
After a few moments, she turned her eyes back on the bartender. You guys hear it all, don't you. She asked, looking him in the eye. I mean... you hear all the rumors and stories? Her brow raised with her voice, indicating the hope for a response. She didn't know how busy he was, but if he had time to sit down, surely he had time to chat a little. Wasn't it part of the job?
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Mar 6, 2009 17:37:59 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 6, 2009 17:37:59 GMT -5
Trevil ran the rag over the glass for awhile as he pondered her question. Yes, most bartenders would have, but he was new to this business and to this location. And generally he would ignore his patrons, just focusing on the paycheck at the end of every week, plus the tips he earned, or didn't earn. Plus, the Bothan spent any of his free time playing sabbacc or doing other things to swindle money out of people. But mostly he was thinking about his former partners and how they had swindled him out of his cut of the cash and credits.
But the Rodians had left and all the other guests currently in the cantina were at tables to be served by Gliri; she was the only one at the bar right now. Strange, for this time of day, he noticed with the back of his mind. It couldn't hurt for him to at least feign the part of an interested bartender/therapist. That really was all there were, shrinks to drunk people.
The squeaking of his glass brought him out of his reverie and he moved his glassed-over eyes down to his lap to the glass. It was clean enough, and he leaned down to put it in the shelf under the bar before turning back to the Twi'lek. He smiled toothily at her. "I suppose that may be true. But try me. You look like you've heard your fair share as well."
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Meira
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Mar 9, 2009 9:32:49 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 9, 2009 9:32:49 GMT -5
Palas looked around the place. The bar had cleared, and the rest of the patrons were off in their own booths. No one was really that close, that they might overhear what she was saying. But she still paused before she spoke. Why was she wanting to open up and tell her story to this bartender? Who knows who he might be connected to. She was already taking a calculated risk by coming to a Hutt controlled planet. But credits were credits, and she needed the money Wenbeck payed for water. So here she was. But why give herself away? She looked down at her drink and took another sip.
Well, I heard a pretty crazy one not too long ago. Some smuggler takes a job from a Hutt on Nar Shadaa right? And as the ship is being loaded up, some Republic police force makes a show of trying to stop them. The ship takes off and gets away, but the captain finds a stowaway. She paused, taking another drink. Turns out, this stowaway is targeted for death by the same Hutt the smuggler got the job from! Then, once they're in space, this bounty hunter comes out of nowhere and is about to blow them out of the sky, but the stowaway takes the helm and runs the ship through some crazy maneuvers until the hyperdrive is ready, and they escape by the skin of their teeth.
She stopped, finished her drink and set it down on the counter with a sense of finality. She looked at the Bothan, wondering if the story was as impressive in retelling, as it was in reality. After a few moments, she continued.
So now this Hutt thinks the smuggler is in league with the stowaway, so the spice is pretty much unsellable. And the smuggler is stuck with the guy, 'cuz he saved both their asses. She shook her head. But they'd need more of a crew if they're going to make it. She said as an after thought, not to the Bothan so much as herself. Then she looked back up at him. How's that for a story?
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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Mar 9, 2009 19:41:48 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 9, 2009 19:41:48 GMT -5
Trevil sat quietly on his stool, listening to her story, his fur ruffling back and forth at parts of it. There were some mighty interesting parts to it, though it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, not really. A few different tweaks here and there, but it was fairly typical. Even with just a couple months on this planet, he really had heard some long tales.
And he had been right about her; she did have a story to tell. But he was pretty sure she was more than just passing it on to him. The Bothan had a feeling she played a big role in the story herself. He didn't think she was the stowaway; she probably wouldn't be telling this story, in that matter. So that left her as the ship's owner, the smuggler, the one working for the Hutt.
And then it all made sense. He smiled at her and poured her a refill, without her having to ask. Trevil had a feeling she would need it. "That does sound like a bad day," he said with a wink.
He set the bottle back on the shelf behind him and leaned his arms on the table, careful not to tip his stool over. His violet eyes flickered over her person before settling on her own eyes. The Bothan wasn't sure why he was going to ask what he was planning to ask, but for some reason, it just felt right. This Twi'lek obviously had connections, connections to the underworld from time working with a Hutt. Perhaps she would have others to help him track down his former partners. Plus, it was about time he was getting off this desert rock. He definitely had enough credits, especially after cleaning out that noble an hour earlier.
"And it sounds like I may be of help," he raised his furry eyebrows. There, he said it. Vague enough that she wouldn't know for sure what he was offering. But perhaps with just enough to make her curious. He hadn't wanted to just go out there and plead for passage off-world. That was unbecoming, especially for a Bothan.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
Administrator
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Mar 11, 2009 9:05:11 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 11, 2009 9:05:11 GMT -5
OK, so she hadn't disguised the story all that well. But this guy was a bartender, what could he do? Plenty. She thought to herself with anger. Why did she tell him that story? She might as well have walked up to a Hutt. Her lekku twitched, never a good sign. Something was up with this Bothan, she just knew it. She was so caught up in her own stupid thoughts, she hadn't notice her glass had been refilled. And she had only just noticed when the Bothan leaned in over the counter. His purple eyes were close, and were very near the shade of her own. Any minute now... she thought. A bunch of thugs are gonna...
"And it sounds like I may be of help"
What? her lekku twitched again, but this time, she realized it wasn't so much a sense of foreboding as much as curiosity. What did he mean by that? Her hairless brows knitted together as she looked back into his eyes. Did he have information? Connections? Or was he yanking her chain? Palas had worked alone for too long to be so easily lead in by vague promises. She was suspicious, when she wasn't drinking. She looked down at the glass full of the yellow liquid that had loosened her lips. I knew I shouldn't have drank so fast. She thought to herself. But it had been done, her story told, she couldn't take it back now. Why not hear the guy out?
Turning on her twi'lek charm, Palas, put the glass to her lips, taking a sip. She didn't say anything, but her eyes conveyed the message clear enough.
I'm listening....
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.:Falcon:.
Lvl. 38 Gum Bandit
486 posts
0 likes
*Insert catchy title here*
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last online Dec 31, 2015 10:49:17 GMT -5
Knight
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Mar 11, 2009 22:02:40 GMT -5
Post by .:Falcon:. on Mar 11, 2009 22:02:40 GMT -5
Kess was not happy. Firstly Ri-Parra had seen fit to run off to an obscure moisture farm today. Great. Second, he had given her about five umpteen jobs to do. Better and better. And, he had sent her to Mos Espa to drop off some parts.
Swell. She lugged the parts box out of the back of Ri-Parra's rattletrap 'spare' landspeeder. She slung it onto her hip, and carefully balanced it, holding it with one hand. The other she used to comb her hair out of her eyes as she stepped down into the Dragon's Back cantina.
It was filthy. And it smelled. She walked stolidly to the counter and hefted the box onto the counter. Then waited. For someone to notice her. Like that'd ever happen.
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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
Master
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Mar 12, 2009 18:16:09 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 12, 2009 18:16:09 GMT -5
Trevil pulled out a credit chip from his pocket and idly played with it between his furred clawed hands for a moment. He knew the female being was interested; she had taken the third drink without objection, hadn't she? The Bothan stared at the small chip, knowing he had many, many more of their type stashed away in his small apartment down the street. And along with the ones he had earned today, it was more than enough.
He set the credichip down on the bar in front of her, next to where her glass had left a small ring. Ignoring the mess for a moment, he looked back up at her with his violet eyes. He knew he had hit the right note, spotting her story as her line, and knew that she was unsettled by it. Her lekku were twitching more than his fur did when he himself was upset, and that was usually a windstorm attached to his body when that ever happened.
Trevil smiled at her, knowing it was his turn to offer something up. She had told his story; now he had to ante up as well. He tapped the chip with a pointy nail. "I have certain... skills that could help you slip away from this Hutt."
Though he hadn't been about to say any more than he had anyway, the Bothan turned from the Twi'lek hearing a thump on his bar. He briefly closed his eyes, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was, before turning to look. His fur settled as he noticed it was only a girl. Nodding to his customer, he hopped from the stool and padded over to where the girl was standing.
His head only graced the top of the bar by a few inches; more than enough for him to study her. Downtrodden, was his first impression. Trevil nodded to her and placed his paws on the bar in front of him. "Can I be of service to you, miss?"
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.:Falcon:.
Lvl. 38 Gum Bandit
486 posts
0 likes
*Insert catchy title here*
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last online Dec 31, 2015 10:49:17 GMT -5
Knight
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Mar 13, 2009 17:21:22 GMT -5
Post by .:Falcon:. on Mar 13, 2009 17:21:22 GMT -5
Kess looked up from the study of her hands as someone spoke to her. She nodded slightly. "I'm here to see your boss. From Ri-Parra." she put a hand on the box. "these are the parts he needed for the droids or whatever."
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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
Master
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Mar 13, 2009 19:37:59 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Mar 13, 2009 19:37:59 GMT -5
His fur ruffled slightly before he could settle it down. Trevil briefly wondered about which boss she meant because technically Maso was also his boss. Then again, why would the cook be needing some droid parts? The girl must mean THE boss, the owner of the cantina. The boss that Trevil had never actually met in person and hoped never to. Partly because he didn't want to and partly because he wasn't planning on staying on Tatooine any longer.
"I don't believe he is here right now," the Bothan said carefully. "But I could store them in back for you?" He gestured to the box. If worse came to worse, he would just give them to Maso. He probably knew the cantina owner; he had been here longer than Trevil had.
Trevil wanted to make short work of the girl, knowing that the Twi'lek had had enough time to stew and develop her interest of what doors he could open for her. "I'll make sure he gets them." He smiled, trying not to show too many of his sharp teeth. Reaching into his purse, he pulled out a small credichip and placed it on the counter next to the box. "For your trouble."
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.:Falcon:.
Lvl. 38 Gum Bandit
486 posts
0 likes
*Insert catchy title here*
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last online Dec 31, 2015 10:49:17 GMT -5
Knight
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Mar 16, 2009 16:49:00 GMT -5
Post by .:Falcon:. on Mar 16, 2009 16:49:00 GMT -5
Kess debated a moment. Such a move could definitely get her in trouble with Ri-Parra, but if she took it back...jt was staying. She nodded, and pushed the box towards him a bit more. She was turning to go when his voice came again, the soft plink of something small hitting the counter.
She turned back, and swept up the cred chip. "Thanks." she muttered, and secreted it in her pocket. She turned back to go.
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