Better 'n Nothing [Open RP]

[10Tickler]

Green skin, lithe body, Curves that could give a Hutt a heart attack. If they actually had one. Hah, a Hutt who'd care more about a woman's figure than stuffing their Obese faces, now THAT was a laugh. Raised in the "Good" part of Coruscant, therefore, over the 100th story of the City, Pala'aola had come back, if only to visit for a little bit, maybe find some work. It had taken her a few months out of the year to earn the Money to get a ride on one of the Many ships coming to Coruscant every day.

The feel of the City, Grime and grease, hidden under a layer of Civilized behavior and shining Durasteel. Senate forbid that anyone ever know how...relaxed the Underworld was, what with dingy bars and worse establishments waiting for the knowledgeable person to come along and find them. Those who lived in the underworld knew it well enough that they could find anything they needed, and Pala knew what she needed exactly. A hot meal, something nice to look at and some information. For that, only one place would suffice, one of the seedier bars on planet... Xah's Tavern.

It wasn't on the Oldest mainstreets of the City, but it was close, neon and other lights twinkling slowly, as though they were too tired to make the effort to actually do any work. It was Grimy alright, but It was perfect for her needs. Loud, crowded and she'd be completely inconspicuous. Not to mention, Xah would hire her if she really needed the work. He had a soft spot in his heart for Twi'leks, and Pala was an old hand at Bartending.

Entering the small, dark place, she smirked, seeing that she was right in coming here, Xah was tending tonight, and he'd know what she needed to. Now, how to get to the actual bar without getting Groped too much, that was the problem...

[Kayan]

Boots stamped over duracrete paths and Kayan carved his way through the dingy streets of the Underworld. He had the look of someone who'd been robbed, which in some ways wasn't too far from the truth.

He shook his head while he walked, thinking back to his ship and the four metric tonnes of Corellian pastries that filled containers in his cargohold - and then back to the charred corpse of his business contact. Another job he wasn't getting paid for. On some days he would have simply blown the cargohold hatch and dumped it all into space, but not this day. Kayan was in the mood to drown his sorrows in a pint glass. Afterall, who would buy four tonnes of rancid dessert?

His mind started to churn, but instead of a valid idea he was left with only the gnawing desire to get drunk. He stopped abruptly and was half aware that he made another pedestrian behind him stumble to avoid walking into him. He cocked his head to the right and grinned, double checking his blaster on his thigh before turning and walking toward the entryway to the bar.

Some form of music pounded and Kayan pushed his way through the crowd, zeroing in on the bar and trying not to step on anyone's toes. He could almost smell the ale and once his hands felt purchase on the counter and once the bartender made eye contact with him, he sighed in relief.

[Almsey Belmont]

Not drunk. At least. Not yet.

Almsey was a Jedi, albeit not your typical Jedi. His clothing didn't really match the whole robes and mystic space monk vibe that most Jedi were known for. Lightsabre kept under his coat strapped neatly to a belt. He'd returned from a mission and a long one at that. Well he supposed that he needed to get away from everything for awhile. He'd failed with his first apprentice, although in all honesty he wasn't really surprised he had. And the council as per usual weren't too happy with him. There was a common stigma among him and his fellows that he was one that was teetering on the edge of the dark side, or had already fell in.

It wasn't really the kind of thing a padawan needed attached to their names anyways. Still, at least they found him useful in one sense or another. Now, report fully finished he'd return to the lower levels of this fine world to start slumming around the bars. He wasn't a dark Jedi, he just had a lot more demons than the regular Jedi.

Demons he liked to kill with alcohol.

Of course. There were other reasons behind his appearance here tonight. The top of the list was to let his contacts in the underbelly know he was back in town. For the most part. Almsey was the private eye of the Jedi order. If something overly complicated and mysterious went down here. He would be one of the first to be sent in. Even if the order had their suspicions about him. They couldn't deny that he did his job effectively. And the contacts in the slightly slimier corners of Coruscant, although greedy and treacherous. Were useful in information gathering. They'd never say no to a fist full of credits. That, and they didn't want to get on the bad side of a Jedi.

Of course. Codes and conducts in. Almsey couldn't and wouldn't outright attack them. That stuff was for the guys on the opposite team. No. But there always was the matter of certain criminal activities. And he could only really hold his tongue for so long. He grinned lightly. After this one he'd switch to non alcoholic. Needed to have his wits about him. He'd been gone for a long time. And people tend to get cocky when not exposed to his...sparkling..personality.

Finishing off his drink and placing the glass down onto the table. The Jedi would close his eyes and try to feel the people in the bar through the force. Odd tingles of the emotions each one was going through. But not much. Still one couldn't help but practice his weak points. Concentrating on feelings towards himself, he found little other than curiosity. Perhaps a little attraction from the girl who'd served him. Again though. Laws of the order.

Settling into a calm state he sat back. Time to watch the night develop.