Another day-night cycle, another opening, mid, and night shift at The Shame Corner. As ever, anything anyone could need was available, and plenty of merchandise no one would ever need but would possibly want to boot. The SC’s signature tailring dragon was everywhere, from sunglasses and plushies to beerstiens and novelty blankets and a plethora of clothes, infant to adult.
The restrooms were pristine, the fudge and jerky were delicious smelling, and familiar and new faces waited to be of service (but were still people, tyvm).
The Hydian Way Outer Rim Territories Station 0H40-S0, “The Shame Corner” 42 ABY
As much as he would’ve liked to peruse the vast selection of foods and novelty items on display within Station 0H40-S0’s shelves, Bril Teg Arga was here on business, not pleasure. With no shortage of bad actors looking to capitalize on the chaos that struck at the heart of Selenian society following the attack and subsequent defeat of the planet’s ancient Sith, he found himself busier than ever.
“Once I ask a few of the employees some questions, I’ll catch up with you,” he said to the sunny skinned Nautolan who walked beside him with her fingers entwined with his own. “And anything you want is on me today, okay pur’ka?” That earned a kiss on his cheek, which he had to lean over a bit to compensate for their stark difference in height.
“You know, you don’t have to buy me anything, kitty. I can afford it,” answered Minnow, who looked at him with a smile that accompanied a pleasant warmth that pulsed across their bond.
“I know, but you deserve it. You always deserve it.”
Especially after everything that’s happened, he thought to himself. When the Caxxies attacked, she’d been taken on his watch, and as much as his people – Ruka and Cora; Siva, Foxen, and even Minnie herself – told him that he shouldn’t blame himself, he couldn’t help but do so. So, this was the least he could, and would, do to make it up to her. Minnie gave him a knowing look and he smiled in return. Although she wasn’t Force sensitive, she’d gotten very good at discerning many of the feelings that drifted across their bond. A reassuring nod and a kiss assuaged her worries, for now.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long, tusk cat.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, pur’ka.”
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
Once they split up, Bril approached the checkout desk where several of the station’s employees were gathered. Among them, an Echani woman and a Miraluka with slightly ruddy skin and brown hair, both of whom seemed to be giving the others instructions as Bril approached. Not wanting to interrupt, he waited until there was a break in the conversation before speaking.
“Excuse me. Do you mind if I have a moment of your time?” he asked, nodding to the other employees to be polite but keeping his attention on the two employees who seemed to be managers of some sort. “Just a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair. Promise.”
He smiled.
<@244244163002892288>
While the Miraluka didn’t turn in his direction to face him, she did nod, lips quirking politely. The Echani showed slightly more warmth, a contrast to her paler visage, her small smile at least curling both sides and silver, knowing gaze attentive to the Zabrak’s politeness in waiting for them to not be busy.
“Certainly, sir. What can we help you with today? Did you need assistance finding something?”
“He seeks, but not goods,” murmured the veiled woman, causing Avalon to glance with more scrutiny. Then recognition colored her sepulchral features, and her automatic and mildly sweet customer service demeanor seemed to thaw a few shades upon realizing it was one of the Corps’ most accomplished members. “Ah, Envoy Arga. A pleasure to meet you in person. What do you need?”
Just as Bril pursed his lips to answer Avalon’s question, he closed them again upon hearing the Miraluka interject. Right. The nature of her species’ connection to the Force meant that she could sense things in a way that eluded even him. Part of him wanted to speak to her about it but, knowing how awkward conversations could be when people asked him things about Zabrak physiology, he decided against it.
He grimaced only slightly upon being addressed by his last name. It was a formality he was still getting used to.
“She’s correct,” he began, “I’m looking for someone. A male Duros a little shorter than me, Greenish-brown skin, gold eyes. Has the demeanor of a soldier. I’m told he frequents this place often? His name’s Jedwen Balt.”
By the end of it all, he realized he forgot to properly greet her. Bril lowered his head in a slight bow before rubbing the back of his neck.
“A pleasure to meet you all as well. Sorry,” he added with a sheepish expression.
The Miraluka’s lips quirked again, something of silent amusement. “I am afraid I would be unhelpful in this regard. But well met, Envoy. Vidente,” she offered, and seemed to parse her attention elsewhere in their radius, a mutter more to herself that obviously trailed into a likely telepathic thought, “Jinse is working on her lunch again…”
“We can certainly take a look through the footage,” the Echani took over, reaching for something under the counter and drawing out a datapad. She tapped at it for a moment. “This a bounty?”
Running his hands through his hair to set it back in place Xoni exited his Intersteller Swoop. It seemed like a low budget ship for someone of his wealth but he liked it that way. It gave off an air of humility that suited his purposes at times.
Through his network of people he had discovered this station. It was unassuming, and just what the informant had described. How they turned a profit with the pay what you want model was beyond him. It was clean and organized well. Obviously, where it was located was a high traffic area.
Walking into the Seven Sins bar Xoni looked around. a few patrons sat at tables but is seemed mostly empty for now. As he strode past the bar he gave a nod to the bartender. A curvy girl, though not unattractive she looks like she could use a few more hours of sleep, but couldn’t we all.
Finding a more secluded corner booth Xoni slide into the very back of it. From here he had no one that could walk up behind him. It also afforded him a mostly unblocked view of the rest of the bar. Now to find out what the symbol on the bag was.
“Well met, Vidente.”
Bril’s eyes lingered on the Miraluka for a moment, something he figured she was aware of in some capacity, before he shifted his attention back to Avalon.
“Something like that, yeah. One of our soldiers back home stole some sensitive information. We’re not sure what he’s planning to do with it, yet, but my guess is it’s to sell it to one of our enemies. Figured I’d use what resources I had to find him before someone a lot less nice was sent to apprehend him.”
And that would be a mercy that even he deserved. Bril had heard stories of what some Brotherhood agents, especially those among the Inquisitorius’ ranks, did to fugitives when they were finally captured. If he were Jedwen, he’d count himself lucky if it were the Zabrak that found him first.
“Yea, I think we got everything.” Inar turned to face her massive husband as he was carrying all the bags in one arm.
“We should be good for awhile and-” She stopped as she frowned when they stepped into the hanger. No. She could’ve sworn she placed her ship right here. Her beautiful, shiny, drop-dead gorgeous YT 1930 Light Frightener which she had named ‘Perfect’ because that baby was perfection.
And it was gone.
Waln paused and glanced to Inar, “Are you alright?”
“Where is Perfect?!” Inar shrieked, she could feel her anxiety was rising as she dropped all the bags and started to frantically looking around.
“Inar, calm dow- whu-oof-” He barely got a word out as Inar was attempting to climb on him to stand on his shoulders as if that would make Perfect suddenly appear.
It didn’t.
Waln was attempting to hold onto his wife’s shoes and grimacing in pain as she was stepping on his tendrils. It was then he had enough, dropped the bags onto the ground, slipped his hand underneath her feet and yanked her back.
There was a short yell followed by a “you overgro-” and a thud. Inar had landed properly to avoid getting hurt but it still sucked. She got back on her feet and started running around the compound to see if she could find her ship, leaving her rather confused husband in the dust.
The Echani, whose nametag read Avalon, nodded along. She gestured for him to walk with her as she tapped at the pad before tucking it under her arm, stepped out from behind the counter and moving through the aisles towards the Seven Sins Bar.
“And you’re hoping he’s come through? Not the smartest move for a man on the run from an affiliate, but,” she shrugged a supple shoulder, bare at the tops where her slouching, draw-string sweatshirt didn’t cover, “customer service is the land of customers, and people, by and large, are just people, very fallible.”
Bril walked to Avalon’s right, moving with a longer stride that allowed him to effortlessly keep pace with the shorter woman.
He nodded in agreement with her assessment. “And when people get scared, feel like the walls are closing in on them, they revert to old habits. To what’s familiar. That’s why I’m hoping he came here after fleeing from Dajorran territory.
“I’m sure you see that kind of thing a lot working here. The fallibility.”
She cracked a wry smile at him, a sort of look Minnow had given him before when speaking of her service job, just on a much older – though the Echani had a distinctly ageless quality to her that made him wonder what he’d feel should he open his repressed senses – countenance. It was a look that said, I’ve got stories, kittybud.
“We do. Well, let’s see if your Duros shows up. Do you have a timeframe? That’ll cut down on a lot of hours.”
As they passed into the bar proper, the bright, yellow-white illumination of the store proper switched suddenly to moody neons, low-frequency beats thrumming from somewhere unseen and most defintely solely under the bartender’s control. There were various patrons present, and behind the bar, a short-haired female chatting up another woman. Red eyes flicked to Avalon as she entered, the colorful neons throwing color onto her white skin and hair, and the bartender said something smirking and confident before pushing away, snagging a glass as she did so and moving casually to lean near as Avalon rounded to the EMPLOYEES ONLY OR I GET THE BAT door behind the bar.
“What’s up, Avy?” Red eyes lightly skinned the Zabrak, noting the broach. “New chew toy?”
“Behave, Ira. We’ll need cams from…” She turned to Bril, lifting a brow to ask for the dates.
That look. It made him think of Minnie, of the little dimples that formed at the corners of her mouth when she smiled at him. He missed her, even now, and responded by sending a pulse of longing warmth across their bond. Just to let her know he was thinking about her.
Doing his best to ignore the flashing lights that painted the bar’s interior with varied colors, Bril looked the new arrival over for a moment. The question she led with, though, caught him off guard. He lifted his hand defensively, showing his palm.
“Um, we are not …,” he dropped his hand and shook his head, “The last eight standard hours, if you can.”
Ira’s face screwed up briefly in confusion, then she tipped her head back and laughed.
“Relax, horny, I meant another hire. She likes to adopt em young.”
“As if you don’t,” Avalon replied, a good natured jab, before nodding to Bril. “Only eight hours standard? That’s a mercy. Here I thought you’d be here for days. Ira, if you please?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Shoving off from her slouch, the short-haired woman pushed through the door and disappeared inside.
“She’s our head of security. Mostly on the physical front, as far as appearances are concerned, but in all aspects,” Avalon explained softly to the Zabrak. “And one of the owners with Vidente and I. Do try the cocktails though when you’ve caught your mark. Do you think you’ll need anything else?”
Bril blinked. Here he was on official business, and she was making lewd jokes. What was happening?
“Fortunately, the cruiser he stole was scheduled for refueling. Likely didn’t have enough to get him any farther, so I’m hoping I get lucky.”
His eyes drifted over to Ira again while Avalon explained. Well, that certainly checked out. Woe to any unruly customer who had to deal with her.
“That really depends on what we find. Hopefully I won’t have to bother you ladies for much longer, though. I really appreciate you doing this for me, by the way.”
It didn’t take long before Xoni spotted the emblem again. This time on a broach worn by a Zabrak. The Circle with eight triangles pointed outward was clearly visible. He couldn’t make out what was said over the music but it was pretty obvious that they were looking for someone or something.
The Zabrak didn’t seem to be a bounty hunter and the snitch that had previously owned this bag claimed it had been given to them. Law enforcment was a possibilty but Xoni didn’t see them flash a badge so they have to be known to the other bartender. The threads were at least coming together as Xoni sipped on his Correllian Whiskey. This was not his favored brand but it’s taste wasn’t bad. Wasn’t anything like the normal outer rim swill most establishments try to pass off as genuine.
The music in Sebastian Vasca’s earbuds blared into his ears to drown out the sounds of the shuttle engines. His beanie-clad head rested against the small window until the vehicle slowed to a halt. In usual procedure, he hauled his duffle bag from under his seat, onto his lap, waiting until other passengers vacated their seats. Seizing the chance, he slipped into the line through an open window. He slung his bag over his shoulder, crumpling the folds of his dark grey hoodie, murmuring apologies after accidental bumps into fellow passengers. The always hurried Human found the pace of the line’s shuffle uncomfortable. The Human was relieved when the crowd started pouring out of the exit. He followed his mother’s example and showed his pilot appreciation by thanking them before he stepped off the shuttle.
Golden eyes panned the station. It was not quite like anything he was used to. The smaller shops were more run down. More homey. The amenities were fancier and polished. He caught a whiff of food, reminding him it was time to eat and stock up on snacks. Though that was his sole focus, he felt inspired by the flashy signs to collect souvenirs for his mother and sister.
Sebastian stretched his slender and lean limbs and plucked an earbud out of one ear. Though he didn’t know where he was going precisely, each stride was quick, narrowly missing other visitors in the station. The sea of the multi-species multitude made him feel claustrophobic. He deliberately looked down at the floor, a few paces in front of him, to reduce the possibility of encountering a stranger’s gaze. His strides stopped in front of an aisle lined with trinkets and items that brandished the Shame Corner’s logo and lettering.
Slowly, he worked his way down the aisle, selecting random objects, examining them and then putting it back in its place. He created a pattern of stepping forward and back, unaware of any other presence present. One unlucky step back, he collided with something. Rather, it was someone. Panic took only a moment to set in before he began his string of apologies to the stranger. “I’m so, so, so sorry. By the maker. I wasn’t lookin’, I’m so sorry.”
Lektra hadn’t been in space too many times, so she jumped at any opportunity to traverse the stars. Her most recent jaunt through the cold vacuum of space was courtesy of one Vreva, a friend of a friend who was running a simple errand delivering supplies across systems. Their shared journey brought them both to the Shame Corner for a chance to fuel up and get some snacks.
Vreva elected to stay on the ship for the time being, so Lektra was on her own when she exited the ship and entered through the Shame Corner doors into a big ol’ room with shelves galore. The Firrerreo had been slowly learning how to budget her credits after learning the hard way that you shouldn’t spend an entire paycheck the day you get it unless you wanna go hungry for a short while. But Lektra had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to help herself once she got to exploring the shelves, and she would be correct.
Coincidentally, the first place the Kendis ended up was the souvenir aisle. Lektra was unsure of what to get, but she remembered hearing from Luka that she needed more hobbies, so she decided to pick one with plenty of sentimental value, a pack of colored pencils, and a ringtail-themed coloring book. She was continuing her way down the aisle to inspect more potential trinkets when someone went and backed into her with a little too much force, knocking the coloring book and pencils to the ground. The package of pencils tore open upon impact and sent a variety of colors across the floor.
But of course, Lektra wasn’t about to blame the individual for running into her because she, too, hadn’t been paying much attention and proceeded to insist that it was, in fact, her fault, not the stranger’s.
“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” she quickly said. Her cheeks turned a cool silver whilst her freckles remained bronze, speckled along her visage like glitter.
Torrents of Chaos, that was the description of recent events, and even a Sith needed to lay to rest the spirits of the fallen and take a break from it all. Aphotis had made this her second visit to the Shame Corner, and thus her second break in what seemed to have been an endless surge of wrath. There were experiences to distill and extract and terrors to plant and grow. A strong drink was the first thing on her mind. Then afterward, a meal, one that would be sufficiently spicy to compete with her fiery spirit, to really activate the endorphins.
Tir'eivra’s role as Governor of Kasiya could’ve been seen as a neglected one if she compared it to the Clan’s warfare on Selen’s old gods, or new rivalries popping up left and right. But she always preferred to be hands-on, instead of being shoved into some corner to keep her still. The people of Kasiya were likely better off with her being occupied. That single thought made her uneasy. What if they were? She had better do something about that. Bring about a wave of change, for better or worse, as long as it stamped her name on it. Soon. She longed to return to the Asog Temple, where there were little monsters waiting for her there.
Things to learn. Things to burn. .
In light of shedding weight off her shoulders, Alaisy was dressed minimalistically, with her jet-black, straight hair cascading down and let loose. Her alchemical suit had limited her to long gloves with still bloodied claws, over-the-knee knife-heel boots connected with garter belts to a very short pencil skirt. The necessary struggle here was feeling exposed, her first skin seen, with belligerent looks leering at her. She kept those from the same Brotherhood on their toes, and they empowered her in turn. Siphoning energy from the gazes of hatred and suspicion.
There was no comfort from her mask, merely the constriction from a neck corset and an hourglass, overbust corset. It was a compromise, one that leaned heavily in favor of her facemask. The air here felt too dry, harsh, and far too easy to breathe in, and worse, it was shared by others. She would cleanse herself, starting with that drink at the Seven Sins bar.
A lone figure stepped from a shuttle, huddled in ragged gabs and a heavy cloak around her. She had no idea why she even came back here. It felt wrong for her to be among people again, especially so many, but she had to find something that only more civilized locations would have.
Slowly she stepped away from the shuttle, the station floor feeling cold to her feet and empty, disconnected. Shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of the feeling she stepped further.
The Harbinger swooped into a landing bay, the pristine mirror-finish of the shuttle shimmering in the light of the station. The landing ramp creaked under the percussive weight of the mountainous General’s footsteps. A safe space to refuel the Harbinger and continue on his journey was exactly what Zentru'la needed, but given the reputation of The Shame Corner, there may also be individuals of interest that may be valuable recruits to the Vornskr Battalion
OK, first things first. Find a way to clean up the blood. Then, find, perhaps even steal some clothes. No-one was going to take her seriously if she looked like a wamp rat that had rolled in from the street. Lastly, find a ship and get the frack out of here. If she had to stow away, or God’s forbid, steal it herself, then so be it. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Perhaps she could even offer her services? Nobody, not her fellow slaves, nor her Hutt masters could deny she had a way with machinery. She could pilot… well… just about anything given the opportunity. The transport shed arrived in was decent enough, but the Hyperspace has conked out. It was no good. Not now.
Granted, that was how she got away in the first place. If she were caught, then she doubted she’d be given the same chance twice. This was it. Her one and done. Her chance for freedom.
Zoom'aski approached the main entrance to the shame corner, remembering, only just, her days as a child in the Zygerrian nobility. Stand tall, stand proud, act like you mean to be there and people will be less suspicious of your intentions.
Of course, she wasn’t wearing tattered rags at the time, and didn’t have a bleeding palm.
“Hi!” She greeted a guard cheerfully. “Don’t suppose you can guide me to the nearest restroom? Kinda got into an accident and need to clean myself up…”
The Togruta loner glanced back as if something familiar sparked in the back of her mind… Something or someone was familiar here. She frowned to herself, she didn’t think they would show up here. Pulling the cloak closer around herself she continued on.
A lone woman in a cloak. Most likely a Force user. Potentially a powerful ally. Zentru'la kept his distance, but kept an eye on the individual as he looked for the refuelling station
“You’re a polite one, Envoy Arga. That will serve you well,” Avalon commented, though her silver eyes went past him to the man in the corner booth watching them. She held her stare long enough to be certain he noticed, then turned back to Bril. “You’re drawing eyes, but I presume you don’t intend discretion, wearing our emblem openly.”
It was about then that Ira returned from whatever “the back” was, the door swinging back and forth. She held up a data chit in two fingers, offering it to Bril.
“Here ya go, honey. Nothing from the refreshers or the showers though, we’re not a perv show. But you’ll see anyone comin’ and goin’, and there’s a scanner in the doorways that saves any weapon schematics detected, the lockboxes for the locker room are all bio-coded so if they got used there’s a record too.” Abruptly, she took it back, a warning look flashing in her ruby gaze. “Don’t go savin’ this. Our little family here isn’t some freakshow. You wipe it when you’re done. I want your word.”
“I shudder to imagine how my iya – sorry, my mother – would think if I weren’t,” he replied, referencing Avalon’s comment about his politeness.
When she mentioned that he’d attracted the attention of another patron, Bril followed her gaze to the man seated in the corner booth. “It seems I have,” he concurred in a quieter voice, “though I’m not picking up any malicious intent from him.”
He turned around again when he heard Ira coming. Upon seeing the look she gave him and the severity of her tone, he held her gaze for a moment.
“You have my word. In fact, if it would make you feel better, I can call my droid and have it scan and delete the contents of the data chip here. That way you’d know I’m being honest.”
<@244244163002892288> <@583854106599489557>
Seeing he has attracted some attention with his gaze Xoni simply nodded at the pair talking. He tipped his drink slightly in their direction. Sometimes he found the best way to keep from arousing suspicion was simply to acknowledge he had been caught gawking.
A ship wobbly parked itself in the hanger, the landing gear groaning loudly in protest as the weight of the craft came to a rest. From it emerged a figure in Mandalorian armor with a rifle strapped to the woman’s back. The figure looked around for a second before detatching the clip that kept her helmet secure and slipped it off.
Lillian’s hair was a mess, dark red curly strands having escaped from the neat crown of braids she usually styled in. Her face was covered in grime and dirt, masking some of the smaller scars she brandished. The Human female rolled her neck to release some of the tension that had built up during her long flight. She stood there for a few seconds longer, her eyes closed, before she tossed her helmet back into the ship and made her way out of the hanger and straight towards the Bar.
Whiskey. She needed whiskey. She had been on an outer rim planet attempting to gather knowledge on old Mandalorian traditions from some “hermit” boasting said knowledge, only to find a man with very few braincells left and a few bolts loose. Needless to say, the trip was a bust, and one of the massive mamillian life forms on the planet almost had her “loaner” spaceship for lunch.
She quickly found a stool near the bartop and slumped into it, emerald eyes half lidded in exhaustion. She waited till the bartender looked her direction before ordering.
“Corellion old fashioned…” a faint pause before her grumbling continued, “Please.”
Wulfram would be so proud of her for using her manners.
Honey colored skin pressed against the bartop as Lillian rested her head for a minute, her breastplate dully thumping against the edge of the surface, arms loose at her sides.
Sof liked the fudge here, right? She should grab some for the next time she saw her…
“Ohmygoooooodsh! It'ssoflUFFy!” hollered a small fuschia Twi'lek excitedly, grabbing a fuzzy plushie tailring dragon nearly as big as her and jumping up and down.
It was perhaps entirely possible he’d already let her have too much of the fudge, but Hunyi and Kerissa and Elly were all always telling him to eat more, and, well…
Then again the high glucose content could also be why his gums hadn’t stopped vibrating in several minutes and why he was mildly tachycardic.
Well. It would return to homeostasis soon enough.
“Do you like it?” Rue asked happily, his papery thin body swaying side to side at the hips, an earthly, matron moon rhythm to every step as he minded the baby swaddled securely to his chest with her wrap carrier. Little Lektra sucked on her binkie, bright green eyes over silvery rose cheeks curious, if a little vacant, to everything around them. Her elder sister was much more enthused.
Sulla had loved the tailring plushies Rue had gotten for the girls when last he was here. So much so that when he told her about the place, she’d wanted nothing more than to see it herself. So eventually with enough pleading to her mother and two weeks of good marks in her spelling and sums, here they were.
Elly was getting them dinner. According to her, she wanted to make sure everything was okay first, having disliked their last visit that involved Mikhail’s family. And then there would be dino nuggies.
And in the meantime, they got to explore. Rue had been nannying the girls often enough nowadays. Still, this was their first time away from Selen altogether, and thus very important.
“Yes!” Sulla cried in answer. Then she spied something else, and dropped the plushie to run towards it. She only got so far though before she paused, turned back, and went to pick up the stuffed dragon and put it back in its place.
Her mother would be proud. Rue was.
He wiped his eyes.
“What else there, little celosia?” he asked, trailing after. There was so much here.
Those wrathful red eyes narrowed at him, assessing, before she handed it over.
“Sure, you do that,” was all she said, before turning back towards her bar and the occupants starting to fill it. “Call it a pact.”
In short order an amber drink was poured, sharp ears having overheard an order even mumbled more to the woodgrain than not. The glass softly sat on a napkin next to the woman’s face down head, and an elbow joined it.
“That good, huh, honey?” asked the bartender.
<@264959101384130560>
Meanwhile, Avalon lifted a brow at their staring gentleman in return of his guilty plea before she looked to Bril, then gestured back out to the main space.
“Unless you’d prefer to watch that here…? Ira makes the best drinks this side of the Galaxy.”
<@583854106599489557>
Lillian’s head slowly rose as the soft clunk of the whiskey glass on the woodtop reached her ears. Gloved and kom'rk covered hands were produced from their hanging position to gently cradle the glass between her hands like it was a mug of coffee. A few more strands of dark red, curly hair fell from the crown of braids around her head but Lillian didn’t seem to notice.
“I wish. Have you ever seen the bastardized mixture of an reptile, a bantha, and a sheep? I didn’t know they existed…”
The glass was brought to scarred lips as the Mandalorian happily took a sip of the smooth whiskey.
“One tried to eat my ship. Well not my ship, but the ship I was driving.”
The tall, shiny Sith was on her way towards the bar when one of the subtly hidden Employee Only doors opened beside some coolers, and a trio walked out. Two were tying on yellow aprons, a Zeltron woman and an electric-eyed man, while the third was shrugging his way into a dark jacket. They were mid conversation, but the latter of them cut off mid-sentence and gaped at the Sith.
“Holy kark,” he said, vaguely, and then, louder, “Hey! Hey, excuse me, just a moment!” and then, turning back to his companions, “See you later I have gotta know their tailor, love you,” and leaned over to kiss the woman’s cheek.
She giggled lightly, brushing a hand down his arm. “You too.”
“You’re so easy,” huffed the blonde man, but reached around the Zeltron to tug the other man closer by his jacket and kiss him. “Love you, don’t go broke.”
“You too, I won’t, love you, you got this, text me on your tens,” rattled off the man, and then fast-walked over towards the Sith as quickly as possible without actually running. The other two split off, continuing on their way to the Golden Griddle.
The figure that approached Alaisy was extremely pale, a bluish-purple reminiscent of a few alien heritages, though his dark eyes and hair confused the bloodline purity. He was bedecked in piercings and various dark bits of leather, something that spoke of an interest in the aesthetic being roped into the confines of a workplace.
“Pardon me, hey, sorry, I just have got to know where you got those corsets, especially that gorget. That craftsmanship is insane. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Oh my gods,” was the first thing out of the employee’s mouth, golden eyes widening. Then, “are you okay?!” and upon further taking the new customer(?) in, settled on, “Hyuh, of course you’re not, forget the ‘fresher let’s get you to the first aid station. Come with me, is okay, we have you.”
Zoom had approached a woman with long ringlets of golden hair, golden eyes, and golden clothes, a whole matching look. She approached the Zygerrian(??help) and made as if to put an arm around her back without actually touching her, a guiding gesture as she lead her further into the building but away from merchandise. A frantic side-wave towards the front check-out and some communication solely in mouthed words and wtf expressions and some muttering into a comm pinned to her shirt all seemed to achieve alerting her fellow employees of a situation. “What’s your name? I’m Jinse. We’ll get you taken care of.”
The bartender made a considering sound, then chuckled smokily and twisted at the waist, flexing two muscled arms to better show off her expansive tattoo work.
“Look anything like this?” she asked, indicating the apotheosis of some kind of hellish amalgamation of seven different beasts, twisted up in various states of emotion and torment; there was definitely a bovine of some kind, and a reptile, and possibly a ram…but also a bear, an equine, a toad, a boar…
Upon seeing the man’s gesture, Bril mirrored it by inclining his head in a gesture of friendly recognition. He was mostly getting feelings of curiosity off of him, which made Bril wonder what about him had caught the man’s attention.
“Much obliged,” he thanked Ira while taking the datachip. He turned his wrist over to show his beskar vambrace’s built-in display, and tapped on the screen a few times to pull up its comlink.
“Gregori, I need you to analyze the contents of a data chip for me. Sending you my coordinates now.”
Once that was done, he briefly glanced in the direction of the armored woman who sat not far from where he was standing. Although he didn’t say anything, he did offer her a polite smile and nod. He wondered what animal she was talking about, having never heard of such a creature himself.
He contemplated Avalon’s offer for a moment but eventually shook his head. “Perhaps when work is finished. I’ll get something for myself and my girlfriend when she catches up. Speaking of which …”
Slender fingers darted across his vambrace’s screen again, this time sending a message to Minnie.
🥼 : Hey, pur'ka. Just checking in. Found a potential lead. Let’s hope it pans out. 🥼 : You okay? See anything you like?
A few moments passed before a message came in with a high-pitched chime:
<:mando:646176241539612683> <:lovephone:1041851793438679081> <:gunhehehe:986420337522671636> : not just that I like, but Foxie and Siva and Ellybelle and soooo many others! <:mando:646176241539612683> <:lovephone:1041851793438679081> <:gunhehehe:986420337522671636> : you sure you want to cover everything? 🥼 : Yes, I’m sure love. Just let me know when you’re finished and I’ll have Kayto help you bring everything back to the ship. Then, meet me at the bar and we can have drinks. <:mando:646176241539612683> <:lovephone:1041851793438679081> <:gunhehehe:986420337522671636>: okie, kitty. i won’t spend too much, promise. p.s. i love when you spoil me 💋
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
He chuckled to himself while reading the last message, smiling from ear-to-ear before finally closing the message feed and lifting his gaze to see … quite the complex tattoo work on the bartender’s arms. Bril stepped forward just a bit to get a better look at them.
“Beautiful line work,” he commented, “Must have cost you a pretty credit to get that done.”
<@244244163002892288> <@264959101384130560>
Ira’s gaze darted over her shoulder too to Bril, the lines and solid black swathes rolling across her back, interrupted only by the band of her top, as she lowered her arms smoothly. It was like the tapestry of ink was alive, seeming to writhe and boil with animal ferocity and tortured suffering. Honestly, a rather gruesome, if detailed, design.
“Mmm, cred, no, not directly. Lotta blood, sweat, and time. Lotta time.” Her tone implied she wasn’t just turning a common phrase.
She continued on, asking one of the personnel were she could find a more experienced crafter. She had missed Aylin’s handy work, but after what had happened in the past, she wasn’t sure she was still even considered a friend. Things had been rough and emotions gone awry, but even she had to see that she can’t solve all the things alone and needed help getting things fixed.
She nodded and looked towards the exit the man had pointed too.
“Thanks,” she said as she started to walk in the oposite direction, walking past the huge Twi'lek.
It was only when Zehsaa turned around to walk past him that Zentru'la realised who she was. What was she doing here? In this place so frequented by members of the Brotherhood? He hadn’t seen her for years, but he knew her well from his days in the Imperial Scholae Army - the legendary sniper who held the Scholae Empire record for longest kill of an enemy combatant. Exceptionally talented. “Zehsaa?” Zentru'la’s voice rumbled across the station. “Zehsaa Hysh?”
The Togruta flinched at her name being spoken so loudly and turned towards him. Her features had darkened quite a bit from being in the sun constantly and she had lost weight, other then that, she seemed to be still in one piece. She glanced around to see if others had recognized the name. So far it didn’t seem like it and she softly sighed in relief.
“That’s my name,” she replied softly. “Long time no see,” she added after a moment.
Zentru'la greeted Zehsaa with a military salute. On seeing her glance over her shoulder to check if anyone else heard, Zentru'la lowered his voice. “It’s good to see you in one piece. What are you doing here?”
“I need to see if I can get my rifle fixed… it has been through a lot and I can’t fix it anymore. Why are you here?”
To her it didn’t feel like a spot Zen would show up too or nose around, though who knew what has changed in the time she has been gone.
“It’s a secure location for a refuel and the Shell could do with some severe maintanence.” Zentru'la gestured out a viewport where a CR-90 Correlian Corvette was docked, and barely looked spaceworthy. “We’ve been offering security services for local governments around here. Our engineers take a look at that rifle, make it better than new.”
She tilted her head slightly, making her robe and hood rustle softly. She didn’t expect the offer at after this time gone.
“At what costs? Nothing is for free.”
“Perks of the job. People of your talents are few and far between. The Vornskr Battalion will be stronger with you among us. And if not, consider it a gift to an old friend. The Galaxy should not lose your style of marksmanship.”
Lillian’s expression turned into a scowl as she glared at the beast depicted in the tattoo. Flashes of setting off charges in the thing’s mouth to get it to let go of the wing of the ship floated to the surface.
“Yeah. Yeah that’d be it. Scutta wouldn’t die no matter what I three at it…”
Another voiced joined them, causing the Mandalorian to look in that direction. She stared at Bril for a hard second, taking a sip of her drink, before recognition pinged.
“You’re Bril. I’ve heard of you from Sofila and Sivall.” She offered a hand for the Zabrak to shake, the plates of her armor clearly scuffed and needing repaired.
“Lillian Armis. You took my husband’s place when he transferred to Odan-Urr.”
<@1056685516441006091>
Jinse? That was a nice name. A lovely name, in fact. A lovely name for a lovely girl. Zoom had no idea if she were pulling any faces behind her back or not and quite frankly, she didn’t hive a wampa’s backside about it. She needed to get cleaned up, maybe get some stitches too to stop the wound getting infected. She was no medic, but slaves looked out for one another. It can be amazing what you pick up from people who are so far down the barrel they emerge on the other side.
“I’m Zoo…” she stopped herself. No, can’t tell her name. Too many chances. Anyone could be listening. “I’m Zoo… just Zoo.”
Great job, Zoom. That’s not gonna be obvious in the slightest, is it?
She seriously wanted to facepalm herself.
The Moradin touched down on the deck of the Shame Corner’s docking bay with a soft thud. The Defender light corvette showed some light signs of wear but otherwise looked like it flew off the screen of an old republic history holo. As the ramp in the vessel’s underbelly lowered, a female Devaronian wearing teal and gold Mandalorian armor descended, rubbing her temple in exasperation. One familiar with the Devaronian species and culture might notice the oddity of a female having a pair of horns that flowed back parallel to the curve of her skull, crowning her tightly bunned strawberry hair.
A humanoid shaped repair droid followed the young mandalorian clearly trying to get her attention, “I’m tellin’ ya lassie, if ya don’t flush these coolant lines that patchjob engine of yers will KABOOM.”
Eris Okami turned around to address her droid assistant, “Scotty, I don’t know how many times we have to go through this, you’re paranoid. We just did a full rebuild of that engine a month ago. It’s fine.”
“Well tell that to the bloody engine, it was shakin’ the deck like a starving sarlaac during that last jump.”
The Devaronian sighed, “fine, I’ll see about getting some fresh coolant to flush the lines. Just watch those clumsy pit droids while they refuel. I’m already late for meeting our client for the salvage. I’ll be back.” She didn’t wait for Scotty’s reply and made her way to the Seven Sins Bar.
Bril nodded. “Sounds like you’re similar to me in that regard, then. Each piece has a story, right? You had to earn it.”
Upon hearing Lillian’s response, recognition flashed in Bril’s eyes. He extended his hand to shake the one she’d offered, causing the beskar vambraces to clink against one another.
“Good things, I hope,” he added with a smile, “It’s nice to meet you, as well. And yeah, I have big shoes to fill, following in Wulfram’s footsteps.”
<@264959101384130560>
“…Zoo?” Jinse repeated, golden brows crinkling, but pressed on with a friendly smile. “Alright, Zoo, we get you clean and safe. Come here.”
Jinse lead Zoo through a doorway with signage that indicated a small medical station area. There were no other customers inside, just a modest-sized space with a single adult patient medbed, another, smaller folded up in the corner, and counters and cabinets with tools. She guided Zoo to sit down and then started gathering supplies. “One of the managers will be right in also with us. She is a healer, can look at you. I clean your hand up, and get you some clothes, okay? You eaten? Here.”
She handed Zoo a cup of water.
The bar was starting to pick up. As Bril and Lillian started chatting, Avalon discreetly settled on a stool, probably waiting for the Envoy to need anything else before she went back to scheduling. Ira smiled at her and lifted a brow, then started making some tea at the nod in reply.
When another individual made their way in, the bartender waved. “What can I get ya, hon?”
“that almost sounds like an invite,” Zehsaa said with a sarcastic tone.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get back and be flooded with all the memories. Even if she missed them from time to time.
“It’s a job offer. One that pays well and deals in contracts on a case by case basis, not orders”
Eris glanced around the bar looking for the buyer she was supposed to meet before answering the bartender’s query. “Mead if you have it,” she requested in a polite but exasperated tone. The Mandlorian found an empty seat and the bar and began anxiously watching the room.
“Sure,” drawled Ira, and got out a proper wooden flagon to pour a frothy golden liquid into. She passed it to the woman, regarding her anxious staring. “Waiting for a date?”
“I guess I could use the credits… Ok, I’m in for this one and a fix for my rifle,” she said with a nod
Sweet mother of Ashla and Bogan did she ever need that! Zoom managed to restrain herself from snatching the cup from Jinse’s hand the second her eyes caught sight of it. She didn’t want to seem desperate, gods no, even if she was. She did, however, forget all her manners and decency when she pressed the cup to her lips, raised it, and let the cool, cool liquid descend down her throat like she was a funnel.
“Thank you,” Zoom smacked her lips and wiped her face with her arm. “When you say healer, do you mean one of them Jedi people?”
Jinse seemed to be taking in her thirst and was pouring her another small cup from a dispensary. “She is, yes, but not in general. Here you go.”
Another cup was handed over, then Jinse got to work with a little tray and a bowl of water and alcohol and some gauze to start cleaning up
Eris paused for a moment wishing that this were actually a date but alas Jael was who knows where in the galaxy doing runs. “Oh,” she replied slightly flustered shaken out of her momentary reverie, “no, just a business meeting.” That answer hung in the air for a moment before Eris quickly added, “salvage, just salvage, not a bounty or anything like that.” Her addendum punctuated with a nervous chuckle.
“Oh?” She leaned aside, one elbow on the bar, easy, noting the nervousness. “You like workin’ with machines and ships more than people, then, if you ain’t a fan of bounties?”
Eris nodded with a more relaxed bit of enthusiasm, “I do…though I won’t back down from a fight. Everyone contributes to the clan,” she tapped her armor to indicate her Mandalorian clan, “in there own way ya know. I’m just a lot better at keeping the door kickers in the fight than actually chasing folks down myself if ya know what I mean.” She took a swig of her mead. “Plenty of things to scrap after a big scuffle that folks will pay good creds for.”
Embarrassed, Sebastian was prepared to defend rather than leave the stranger to shoulder the responsibility alone.
“N-no, it’s on me.”
The Human dipped down and began quickly collecting the wayward colored pencils. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. He committed the offense he desperately wanted to avoid; bumping in to someone. And this was more catastrophic than he could imagine.
The bag on his back made it painfully awkward to chase down the rolling colored cylinders. Thankfully, his arms were long enough to give him the reach he needed.
With a hand full of pencils, finally looked at the stranger. His dark brows shot up as he took in her striking features, her hair, nose, lips everything. Her emerald eyes left him flabbergasted. The pause lasted an eternity before the man found the words to speak again. “These. Here.” He stuffed the colored pencils into her hand, looking at her hands. Without looking up again, he said, “I-I can pay for these.”
“Yeah, good things. You were the one he recommended to replace him, you know.”
The clink of their kom'rk seemed to have given her a bit of energy… or the alcohol was finally kicking in, because the Human female straightened up in her seat finally. She took another swig of her drink as her eyes fell on the Envoy broach pinned on the man’s cloak.
“Oh you’re here on Envoy business? I didn’t think the Exarch sent people out this far.”
The blast of energy from the employee came in as a bit of a shock, causing her to retreat a step and reel her claws in. Alaisy’s eyebrows pulled together, but as his dark eyes scanned her she noticed that it wasn’t unfounded optimism that he exuded. Her lips formed into a grin and her hands relaxed.
“I was expecting reactions, but not so soon after landing. You have a good eye for quality,” Tir'eivra’s aristocratic voice had a rare, inviting warmth to it.
A gloved hand ran over her side, clicking and snapping, following the sharp dent that was her waistline. The pleasant sensation and awareness of constriction had to be reawakened now and again by actual touch. She shifted to her other leg for support, swaying her hip to the side as her tail curled coyly. Sharply lined eyes stared down at the man, studying him, while radiating dominance.
“The creator of the skeleton of this corset is a famed tailor from Coruscant, who goes by the name of Willow Ergoth. They were not at all easy to convince,” the Sith bit her lip with a pointy canine, remembering the dirt she had to place on them to even receive an audience. She was more than happy to drop the Arcanian’s name, just to spite them and bring in more unwanted customers. .
“There are twenty-six bones in this one, made from exceedingly expensive horn. The rest is of the fabric is all a product of me,” Alaisy’s tone of voice seemed more playful than before, tinged with a great sense of vanity.
Her claw now trailed her neckline, running a digit along the top edge. Then she grabbed herself by the neck and squeezed. Her usually pale cheeks flushed rose-red and her mouth opened longingly.
“This neck corset is also supported by seven bones from the same horn, superior to all types of steel that you can find on the market. But I appreciate you naming it a gorget, it is a rare thing to hear someone call it that. Much better than the usual neck brace,” she scoffed.
Aphotis lowered her arm and gently opened her palm in front of the pale bluish man. Her corset visibly loosened as she inhaled deeper than before. Then she closed her fist as far as her nails allowed and the corset tightened up with a satisfying popping noise from the latex. She exhaled and gave him a toothy smile.
“Now, please answer me, why the educated questions?”
“Welcome aboard. I’ll have a contract drawn up paying twice the going rate for an independent mercenary. Equipment maintenance and access to all our facilities on the Perune orbital district included. I look forward to working with you again, Hysh.
“It will be… interesting to be part of the team again,” she said with a little hesitation. “Hope to be fully able to use my rifle soon as well.”
Bril’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh, wow. I hadn’t realized that he put in the recommendation for me. I’ll have to find a way to thank him.”
He glanced at the Envoy broach fastened to his collar. “Yes, I am. That’s normally the case, but the Envoy Society tends to make exceptions for tracking down fugitives. My training makes me especially skilled at tracking others through the Force, so here I am.”
It wasn’t long before a seven-and-a-half foot KX-series droid stepped into the bar. Unlike most models, its metal plates were painted a mixture of silver and gold. Bril handed the data chip to it.
“Alright, Kayto. I need you to analyze the data present on this chip and send anything you find regarding our target to me. Delete everything from your memory core after doing so.”
K-8T0 lowered its head in a not before plugging the data chip into one of the data ports on its neck. “As you wish, my lord.”
Bril visibly cringed at the honorific before turning back to Lillian. “And what brings you to the station?”
“Willow Ergoth?” echoed the man, quickly drawing a pen out of somewhere and writing it on one of few bare spots on his tattooed arm not also covered by leather accessories. WILO AYERGOTH. “And that fabric is yours? Man. I won’t bug you too long about trade secrets if you don’t want but if you wanna talk about your art I’d love to pick your brain. And this horn? I’ve heard of some alloys and stuff like spider silks stronger than steel but obviously we can’t make the latter into boning…”
He craned his neck to look up at her, a relatively simple in comparison choker straining the motion, and didn’t seem all that phased by her self-asphyxiation. He watched rapt instead as she breathed with motions of her fist.
“Holy crap is that controlled? Oh man. Oh man.” His pallid cheeks darkened slightly as he rubbed at the back of his head and, seeing as her hands were quite complexly gloved? offered a little silly hat tip and head dip. “Sorry by the way for jumping you. I’m Mato, and I ask because I’m into the scene, you know? Moreso the material side, fashion and engineering, than anything else, gear is a passion, but still. It’s a treat to meet you.”
Zoom had to admit, it was nice being waited on for once instead of having to obey the whims of every disgusting slug person in the galaxy. Gods, she’d be happy if she never saw a Hutt again in her entire miserable existence of a life.
That reminded her to go looking for some salt before she left. If she had the time, of course.
She carefully sipped the water, being much more mindful of her manners this time. Then, her eyes widened when she remembered one key, very important detail;
*‘The knife! I still have the fracking God’s damned knife!’
The Zygerrian swallowed the lump in her throat, her breath hitching.
“Erm… don’t suppose there’s a bathroom I can use before we start?” She asked with a coy smile.
“Yes, right there, just–” Jinse kept a delicate but firm hold on her hand. “Can you wait? No good to have open wound near such thing. Just let me cover.”
“Sure!” Zoom forced a smile, a nervous bead of sweat dripping down her feline-esqye face.
Jinse awkwardly smiled back, and went about washing, disinfecting, and lightly taping over the wound with gauze. Then she wriggled a plastic glove on top of it.
“There, now you can go.”
“That there are,” Ira agreed, agreeably. She moved off briefly to slip Avalon a mug, then leaned back. “We got a scrapyard here, if it interests yah. Free to dig through.”
Dusa scowled as her brows furrowed.
“That is so a myth!” She crossed her arms. Dusa was a female Pantoran with light blue skin and yellow eyes. Her hair was a soft green pastel coloring mohawk-esque with buzzcuts at the sides. She had earrings on her ears and a nose piercing.
“No it’s not! If you lick the wheels of a rare Phantom ship, you would have good luck for years to come!” The boy retorted. Dusa rolled her eyes towards the male Dug as he was pointing to the Phantom with his feet. Dusa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. That ship that gorgeous was here!? At karking Shame Corner?!
No. Smoking. Way.
“Fine, you do it then, Hen,” Dusa smirked towards the Dug.
“I already did and I have a job now! You should do it, since you been looking for a job for months.” Dusa scoffed. That was true. She had been lookig for a job. But licking off the wheels of Phantom!? That had to be a Myth. Just had to be.
“Whatever, let’s get snacks.” Dusa turned away from the Phantom.
~ Two hours later
Dusa looked left and right as she tried to stay in hte shadows. The wheels were huge so she could easily hide behind them with her small structure. She saw someone wlaking by so she waited. Once they passed, she inched closer and closer to the Phantom.
There it is. Her yellow eyes admired the sleek beauty designed that it protrayed. Right. She was here on a mission. Henkri had to go to work so he took the ship and left Dusa here. He would be back. She figured it would hurt to test the myth.
Her yellow hues flickered back and forth for a moment before sticking out her pierced tongue and give a long lick on the wheel.
<@301514304845381632>
Reiden stretched in his seat as the familiar form of Station 0H40-S0, the Shame Corner, filled his viewport. He had hoped to take his new ship out for a spin and see how it handled - not that he would be the one flying, but even as a passenger such things could be appreciated - but the retrofits he had requested hadn’t quite finished yet. He hoped it would be soon. Although given the size of the ship, it was probably for the best. On his previous visits to the station, it seemed like the platform could handle vessels of various sizes, but he would have felt guilty taking up so much space.
The ship touched down and he got up, heading out onto the station. He found a repair tech and requested a refuel and a quick one-over for any work that needed to be done. He may have another ship, but this one was still good and deserved to be treated as such. He thanked the tech and looked towards the entrance. As usual, there was a bustling crowd. He watched people come and go, getting a feel for the flow before finding an opening and joining them.
Now, do I want to grab some caf or something a little stronger? And I should get some fudge this time, too.
As the newest influx of people entered, a pair hand-in-hand walking towards the Griddle called out, cheery voices easily rehearsed, “Welcome in!”
The Zeltron and Near-Human squeezed hands before pulling apart, just that tad bit extra of decorum for being on shift. Instead, the man waved on hand as he sped up walking just to dodge bumping into anyone – and specifically, their electronics – while the woman lingered in her step to call out further.
“Heya, c'mon in, welcome to the Shame Corner! You can follow me to the Golden Griddle if you want a nice hot meal to order! Freshers are that way, best in the Galaxy! Snacks and drinks are all over! Any questions, we got you, just let us know!”
“Really?” Eris responded with genuine interest. “You wouldn’t believe the creds people just throw into scrapyards, you just need a little elbow grease and some knowhow. I’d very much like to check that out before I leave.”
“Heh. Go for it. It’s right outside. No access or anything, just can’t sue us if you cut your arm off digging in the scrap.” She winked, though it didn’t seem to be a joke. “We keep the droids though. Try to repair the little dudes.”
A nod directed Eris’ attention towards the server droid that would wheel and float this way and that, its display obviously not working but its buzzes merry.
Aphotis pulled a face as she leaned over the man to check if he was actually trying to write the name down.
Close enough.
“It is mine, as in, it is still very much alive,” her voice seemed to turn somewhat monotone, “look, the horn is not tougher than durasteel, but it is organic, and it is much more flexible, yet it keeps its structure. Willow even insisted it was sustainable, but who would believe that, mhm?”
His next reaction made her take a step back again. A look of confusion stained her face as he did the hat tip, head dip thing.
“Yes, a pleasure to meet you too, Mato. My name is Aphotis and I am this ‘scene’.” A sharp fang protruded from her lips as she smiled, while her tail seemed to curl almost as if she wanted to crush something with it.
Lektra immediately shook her head, “No. It’s my fault,” she assured. When the man dipped down to try and pick up the dropped pencils, the Firrerreo followed. No way in hell she was going to let him pick up her mess, at least not on his own.
With only one free hand, the woman wouldn’t have been able to pick up all the pencils on her own, so she was grateful for the man’s help. It took a few silent moments, but they picked up all the pencils and stood nearly in unison. Once again, Lektra was looking up at the man with spatial awareness issues. Her blush mainly had faded until she caught his golden gaze.
It seemed they both took a silent moment to just stare at each other and appreciate their features before the human broke the silence and jutted his hand out. Lektra accepted the pencils with a nervous smile. “Thanks…” She said before shaking her head no. “I can pay for these on my own. But…” She thought back to lectures and stories from her youth and forced herself to say something she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “You can come get some lunch with me?”
“OK, thank you for your help! Don’t mean to be a pain, but when you gotta go, you gotta go, you know?” Zoom chuckled nervously and closed the door on the restroom.
The Zygerrian slumped against the wall, releasing the breath she didnt realise she was holding and fumbled for the knife in her pocket. Sure enough. There it was. Still covered in her own blood.
Son of a kriffing whore, that had really, REALLY hurt.
Ok, so, how to dispose of it? The sink? No. Way too small. The bin was way too obvious and way too risky.
Toilet it is.
She dropped the knife into the toilet, staining the water at the bottom red. She then flushed it, but much to her dismay, it hadn’t disappeared like she had hoped.
“Oh, come on!”
She kept pressing the flush, praying to whatever deities out there for some help for once in her life!
Life had been very complicated for Matcha ever since Evelyn’s stunt. There were talks of her potentially taking over the Siren Squad or the possibility of the whole group being disbanded. The woman had searched for so long to find a group she fit in with and now it was all going to hell.
That’s why she found herself all the way out at the Shame Corner. She’d been drifting around the outer rim, taking some time to herself to think about what she was going to do with her future, and ended up needing some fuel. (She was at half a tank, she just wanted some good eats and potentially some company).
She disembarked her Arcona issued ship and began to make her way through the large lot of ships parked in the station. On her journey, the pilot stumbled across a Pantoran woman who seemed to be… licking a wheel? Now this was something she couldn’t miss.
Matcha snuck over to the woman and leaned against a nearby starship with her arms crossed. She cleared her throat to get the stranger’s attention. “That’s not very sanitary.“
Dusa froze at the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Busted.
Yellow hues glanced over to the Mirialan as her pierced tongue was still on the wheel. Then she finished licking up. If she already started it, she might as well finish it!
Oooh! Who knows!? Maybe this woman will offer her a job! This good luck could be true! With a mischievous grin and a shrug of her shoulders as she turned to face the woman.
“Heh, well, I think a lot of things we put in our mouths aren’t exactly sanitary,” the young Pantoran pointed out.
Matcha quirked a brow when the Pantoran woman didn’t stop licking the wheel. Instead she committed to whatever bit she was doing and finished the job. Odd.
“…You’ve got me there,” Matcha said, agreeing with the Pantoran’s statement. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re licking the wheel of some stranger’s starship.”
Matcha held back a smile, trying to stay as serious as possible despite her urge to laugh her ass off.
The saucer shaped ship know as The Bastion broke orbit and landed in a free section of the landing area. Those who had seen it before would know it was not as carbon scorched and had a few more panels than it did currently. A few minutes after landing the half-armored figure know as Koda Kendis emerged from the partially functional landing ramp. Normally, Koda would be wearing the full getup of the armor, but today was just the chest piece, a shinguard, his pauldrons, and gauntlets. He had a series of first aid stitches holding together what will end up as some gnarly scars over his left eye. “Last time I trust that guy, can’t trust Devaronians these days.” He whistles over a service droid and works on communicating with it for replacement parts and fuel. “Costing me my Elysian pension.”
“Oh! I can explain that! Someone told me that it would bring good luck. I say its full of bantha shit but, you won’t know until you try it. And look at it, you showed up didn’t you?” Ty smiled as she then held out her hand. Matcha would notice she had a black thumb ring and a hot pink ring on her pointer finger.
“I’m Dusa by the way!”
“You say it like it’s a good excuse.” Matcha chuckled before taking the woman’s hand and shaking it “My name’s Matcha. Good to meet you.” She released the Pantoran’s hand and placed her hands up on her hips.
“I wouldn’t call meeting me lucky, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Emerald eyes watched patiently as Bril talked to his droid, taking note of the bot’s name and typing. She shared her brother’s general dislike of droids, but not to Alexandyr’s extreme. At least Bril seemed less… attached to his droids than Sivall, who treated her bots more like they were family members than tools. She finished out her drink just as Bril dismissed Kayto.
“I’m returning from intelligence gathering. My information was false, so honestly it was just a waste of my time.” A gloved hand waved dismissedly.
“I don’t do as much work for Odan-Urr as I did when I was with Arcona. It’s boring, and I’m starting to feel my age.” The whiskey glass in her hand was abandoned on the bartop with a soft clink. “If I can provide any help with tracking down this ‘fugative’, I’m happy to assist. Like Wulf I’ve been cursed with the Force, and specialize in precognition and force visions.”
The Human woman rested her cheek on her left hand, one eye drifting close.
“I mean, it’s not an excuse. Honestly, with how down in my luck I’ve been lately if someone tells me a silly thing like it takes four belly rubs and a pat on the head to win something, I would!” Dusa explained and then she had an idea.
“Let’s go in! I’ll buy lottery ticket, heh. Let’s see if I win something, yea?”
Matcha rose a brow, a small pang of pity hitting her. This woman was in dire enough of straits to resort to go around licking wheels, maybe a lottery ticket would do her some good.
“…Let me buy it for you. We’ll try my luck this time around for you.”
“Bummer,” Bril commented, “Hopefully you pick up another trail on whatever it is you were trying to find.
You’re a Mandalorian, right? If you’re looking for more exciting work, you could always apply to join the Envoy Society. Or maybe even the Royal Guard.”
A chime sounded from his vambrace after he gave his suggestion, prompting him to pull up the footage K-8T0 curated for him on its digital display. He nodded in thanks to the Enforce droid and sent it on its way.
“That could definitely come in handy. But I’m curious. Why do you think the Force is a ‘curse’?” he asked. Although he was aware of plenty of non-Force adepts who shared that sentiment and had had his own share of negative feelings about his own abilities when he was younger, he’d never heard another adept describe it quite so negatively.
“Ah! Nope nope! The whole point was to see if it worked. If you bought it, it would be depending your luck. Thank you though!” Dusa smiled as she started to make her way inside and made sure Matcha was following.
“But of course, nothing is stopping you from buying yourself one! Who knows, maybe mine didn’t work but yours does.”
The Mirialan followed Dusa inside, thoroughly confused by them. “If you say so.” She shrugged.
Once inside, she followed along all the way to their destination to wait and watch to see what kind of poor luck this woman proclaimed to have.
Lillian stared at Bril for a moment after his question, her expression deadpan. There was silence for a moment before she turned back to the bartender.
“Can I get two more of those Old Fashions? Thank you.”
She didn’t forget her manners this time.
What followed her request was a quick succession of the snap of bindings as Lillian pulled the armored plates from her arms and chest. Once they were placed on the bartop, Lillian unzipped the body suit she was wearing down to her waist revealing a worn tank top underneath. She then pulled her arms free so that the body suit hung around her waist.
What Bril would see was honeyed skin marred by more scars than there were space, in all different kinds of forms. There were stab wounds, slug round scars, and more importantly— burn scars.
“What do you know about Mandalore, kid?”
Bril watched with a curious expression as Lillian unfastened her armor. The tapestry of scars adorning her skin was telling of the life she’d lived thus far–the life of a warrior. She looked like Foxen … like Ruka.
“Not too much,” he answered, “But my girlfriend, Minnie, has told me the general history. Her brothers, too. They’re all Mandalorians, as well.”
Lillian let a soft hum. The Erinos– that’s right, he was tied to them via Minnow. But even then.
“The way my Father told it was that we were too strong, and the Galaxy too scared of us, so the Empire decided we had to go. He said that if there was one thing that could have defeated the Emporer, it was us. I think he was too much of a Nationalist, though some truth could lie in that.”
Scarred fingers pointed to a massive burn scar on her right shoulder.
“This is what I got the night the Empire decided to Glass my homeworld. One of five. I was five. I saw countless dead bodies lining the street, children screaming for their parents buried in the rubble. I pried my riduur from his dead sister where he hoped to die alongside her and his other siblings. I was able to safely lead us to the one ship that wasn’t destroyed and help us chart a path through the hellfire raining down on Mandalore.”
She paused, emerald eyes staring deadpan into Bril’s light blue ones.
“You want to know how I was able to do this at five? It wasn’t skill. I wasn’t a genius like my brother or tactically inclined like Wulfram. I was able to lead us through the misslefire because the Force had been showing it to me in my dreams for months. At the tender age of five, I had been dreaming about the total annhilation of my people, seeing burning bodies when I closed my eyes, hearing their dying screams and gasps for half a year. But I was too young to do anything, and no one would believe a child.”
Scarred lips pulled taught.
“If that is not a curse, I don’t know what is. I’ve learned to live with the Force and the knife it twists in my soul. I’ve learned to weild that knife to help the people I care for– but that does not make it into a blessing.”
“Alright! Let’s get this started, yea! One lottery ticket, please!” Dusa proclaimed with a huge smile on her face. Once she finished purchase, she looked over to Matcha with a sly grin.
“Say, if I win something, I can buy us both some food! Sure gets awfully boring eating alone though the staff are nice.”
Koda confirms details with the droid and head off into the Shame Corner to pick up general and medical supplies, nothing super heavy duty but just enough to make due as replacements for what he used. Once he got all his supplies he planned on heading over to get a proper meal.
A somber quiet filled the space left by Lillian’s words. He held her gaze for a moment so she knew he took them seriously, giving them the recognition they deserved. Sharing one’s history, especially to someone you barely knew, was nothing to take lightly.
“I’m sorry that that happened to you … to your people,” he began, treading carefully. “People often speak of the Empire and the things – the atrocities – they committed as if it was in the distant past. But people like you were around to see it. And the echoes of the Empire’s actions still linger all through the galaxy, through the lives of so many.
No child is equipped to deal with seeing visions of something so terrible. No should they be,” Bril took a breath. “But you said that it was because of the Force that you survived … that you were able to save the boy who would become your partner.”
What would have become of them had she not been “cursed,” as she put it? Nothing good, he suspected.
There was a stillness in the single-occupancy docking bay - intentionally chosen for being the furthest from the station center and thus least likely to run into others in short order. The ramp lowered from the Herald of Entropy and a pair of booted feet began to stride down toward the corridor. There was an uncharacteristic hesitance to Alex’s gait as he sent the signal to close up his ship behind him. It had been a long trip from his Marquis estate in the Lyarna system and more than age since he had been around more than the memories of other people. As he held silent bastion over the abandoned system that had been his home for so long, he had nearly forgotten how to speak, let alone interact with others.
“But no more,” he thought to himself as he turned a corner and his eyes began seeking out a station guide to better orient himself. He tightened his grip on the datapad he had stumbled upon, dust-covered and buried under a pile of other detritus from a long and varied career. An old roster entry, an identification from another lifetime, had sparked his curiosity and led him to board the last still-functioning ship he had and set out. Now, his gauntleted hand drifted down a directory until his finger alighted upon the one thing he was looking for.
“If I’m trying to get used to people again,” he thought to himself, “no better place than a bar. Right into the deep end. The Seven Sins, eh? Sounds like my kind of place…” Alex pivoted on his heel and headed off through the transparisteel labyrinth toward the hub of the station - seeking at least a cold drink and, if fortune favored him, perhaps a good conversation.
It is hard to be unassuming in full Mandalorian armor but as he passed through the entryway of the station hub and into the bar it became clear to Alex that he was not the only one adorned in the traditional garb of the warrior clans. While his was of a decidedly older design than others he saw, and bore a clan emblem unlikely to be recognized by any of them even if they were fellow Mando’ad, it did bring some comfort to Alex after long years (decades perhaps? He had long since stopped keeping track) of solitude to see something of familiarity during his first venture back to “civilization.”
Taking a seat at the bar, Alex signaled to the bartender. “A decent abrax, if you have it. Failing that, a good Corellian whiskey will do,” a comfortable drawl lilted from his lips as he pulled a weathered and time-beaten credit chit from a pouch at his belt and laid it on the counter. “I saw the rules as I came in; whatever you think is fair price for the drink, and fifteen percent atop for your service, I thank you kindly.” With the only real significant business of the moment addressed, Alex began to survey the other denizens of the bar.
Matcha couldn’t help but smile. Dusa’s positivity seemed to be contagious, and it was just the thing she needed at a time like this. “Sure. And if you lose, I’ll buy us both some food. Sound like a deal?”
Reiden glanced around as he walked among the wares the Shame Corner offered its patrons. No matter how many times he saw it, he was still surprised by the sheer variety. They seemed to do a good business and had a fan base, otherwise such an operation would likely be hard to bankroll. Then again, perhaps that was the influence of the Envoy Corps at work. He enjoyed that the affiliation was there, whether publicly known or not. It meant the station was most likely to be a safe haven for him.
He paused for a moment when he saw one of the many signs indicating the station’s rules. They were simple enough and made perfect sense. One stuck out to him and elicited a chuckle: Check your weapons at the door - or don’t. Oh, how he would love to follow that. But experience had taught him such a thing was unwise at best, even in supposedly friendly territory. Then again, he knew there were some in the galaxy that would suggest his status as a Force made him a weapon himself. But sometimes that wasn’t an option or a conventional weapon made more of a statement. There was also something reassuring about having a weapon or two with him, just in case. Either way, he tried not to cause any problems…usually.
At least I left my armor behind this time and opted for something a little more casual.
His eyes moved towards the back right section of the station. In the distance he spotted the familiar sign for the Seven Sins bar and made his way over. Despite being torn between that and checking out the diner, getting a drink won out in the end. In his mind he recalled his first visit and the drinks Ira had made. If nothing else, he’d get quality drinks and good service, maybe even get in some people watching.
What the small Twi’lek had spotted was much smaller in comparison to the Tailring she had just replaced on its shelf. Sulla ran towards a shelf filled with glass orbs, each containing something different. Of course, she gravitated towards the one with a small family of Tailrings inside and quickly grabbed it.
When the girl pulled the orb from the shelf, tiny white flakes rose up from the bottom of the globe, and she smiled. She gave it a quick shake, and all of a sudden, it was as if it were snowing atop the Tailring family, just like it did back on Kasiya. She giggled up a storm before bringing it over to Rue and offering it up to him.
“Look, Uncle Rue! It’s snowing!”
“Man,” Mato repeated emphatically, looking awed, in both the horrified and delighted sense, like someone peering over a very large cliff. “You sure are the scene. Damn. Damn. That’s. So great.”
He was evidently at a loss for words in appreciation, but nonetheless looked fascinated rather than afraid watching her and her corset breathe in time and her tail wriggle, seemingly the same material as her clothing-membrane. He looked up to her smile and wondered if she’d had those filed or if they were natural-slash-unnatrual, but that was such a little question compared to the rest of her gear.
“I dunno whether to be freaked out by whatever that is, impressed, or jealous. I mean, I’m definitely all of them, but like, which is the most? Who knows. Pretty sure I can’t replicate or buy your you or whatever this is you got going on, though, so, alas.” The man sighed with dramatic longing, lovelorn and lost. “Oh well. Got to see a work of absolute art here, once in a lifetime. I’ll remember it fondly. You want that drink, Aphotis? Just to talk shop, to be totally clear.” His thumb jerked over his leather-jacketed shoulder towards the Griddle where the other two servers had gone. “I got my pod, I’m not flirting, not that you wouldn’t be some serious sub’s dream.”
[Unsurprisingly, the plumbing did not heed her pleas. Clearly a whole knife was not going down the toilet chute. Who flushes non-degradable non-paper objects? Honestly.]
A light knock came on the door. “Um…you okay? Don’t do the pushing too much if not coming out. Can cause fainting. I get you some prune juice.”
“No!” That came out a lot more desperately than she had perhaps intended. “I’m good. Just… erm… need a few minutes.”
Think, Zoom. THINK! How can you get rid of this goddamned kriffing piece of fracking sithspit forsaken schutta…
The toilet tank! Of course! She almost literally facepalmed herself. Why didn’t she think of that before!?
The Zygerrian removed the lid, making, quite literally, as much noise as possible whilst cursing to herself.
“Sorry! Just… erm… really bad stomach ache…”
Now, it was just Retrieving the knife. Thankfully, sticking her hand into a toilet was not the most disgusting thing she had ever done. She closed her eyes, plunged her hand, in, grasped the handle, pulled it out and tossed it into the tank with the grace of a bantha on ice.
Still, it was done.
Zoom slid the lid back on, again, making as much noise as possible.
“Really, really bad stomach ache.”
By the gods, if she got out of here, she’d have to put the Shame Corner on the list of places never to come back to because of sheer embarrassment.
By sheer luck she did grab the handle, and the noises were indeed very loud. Jinse would definitely hear them.
Things were picking up in the bar. While Ira habitually kept half an ear on ongoing conversations in her range and an eye on all her patrons for any troublemakers, she was also busy skillfully performing the actual bartending part. Two more old fashioned whiskeys were delivered to the woman falling asleep talking to Bril, along with a caf, though the show of scars was certainly something not long after. <@264959101384130560> The armored Mando that sat down got more than a decent abrax, and the tender have him a wink for good measure over his reading comprehension; so refreshing in this business. “Lemme know you need anything else, or some snacks with that,” she added.
Then a familiar face entered, and Ira’s smile widened, a bit toothy and predatory, for a returning customer. She drawled towards Reiden, “Oh, and he still looks good out of the armor. Hello again, Reiden Gonna have another Fire in the Sky? Where’s your big girlfriend?” <@232396983854301187> <@102435651189743616>
Meanwhile, a flash of bobbing and bouncing pink and yellow flounced in, the tiny Nautolan with bags on her arms emblazoned in bright blue tailrings and the Shame Corner’s logo. Chunky hot pink glasses perched atop her head, obviously for fashion and not use, given the horizontal bars composition. The dim neons glinted off her rose gold vambraces as she bopped along to the low music and made a beeline for the Zabrak at the bar.
“Hey there, Kitty, how’s it going still?” she greeted, then looked left with immediate recognition and a salute that swung three plastic bags. “Su cuy'gar, alor Armis. Nice ta seeya again up close. Dunno if you remember me, I’m Minnow!” <@1056685516441006091>
Zehsaa walked together with Zen towards the bar, her cloak draped around her, covering her as much as possible. When she entered she saw a few familiar faces from a while back when she took a quick glance about the bar.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked him. He shook his head in return, “I don’t drink.”
“A Phattro, something without alcohol and some snacks, please,” she said as she reached the bar and rested against it as she waited.
“A water, please,” said Zentru'la to the barman. “Gotta take care of your body at my age. So what have you been doing all this time?”
Ira, visibly displaying femme, at least, as she turned around, raised a brow at the dry pair but nodded, sliding over a bowl of salty pretzels and nuts and pouring waters and the phatrro. <@417336769181122562>
Reiden gave Ira a nod and returned the grin as he took a seat. Her question left him confused for a moment. “Girlfriend?” Maybe she means Elly? “Oh, no, Elly’s just a friend. Not sure what she’s up to right now. I was in the area and needed fuel and repairs, so I thought I’d swing by again. Just a Corellian whiskey this time, please.”
A snippet of a conversation caught Alex’s ear that he couldn’t help but feel compelled to respond to, partially from a desire for social interaction but also from a deeper guilt he would carry to the end of his days. Picking up his drink, with a tilt of gratitude to the bartender as he took his first sip, Alex approached the pair in discussion as the warrior displayed her scars. <@1056685516441006091> <@264959101384130560>
“Greatest apologies if I am being too forward - as well as for listening in, but old habits die hard - and by all means feel free to tell me to blow off back to my end of the bar if my presence and insight are not welcome. You can dismiss it as nothing more than the ramblings of a foolish, old verd stuck in lamentation that he was not there to fight and suffer and die with his brothers when those cowardly bastards laid waste to our world,” a haunted look shone through clearly from deep enough in his eyes that it surely came straight from his soul as he spoke. “As was said,” with this Alex motioned with his glass toward Bril, “what you suffered through is a thing that nobody should have laid upon their shoulders. But the abilities you have are not necessarily a curse - though not necessarily a blessing either. A thing can be neither. Instead, it is a besbe’trayc, a weapon that can never be taken from you. That, at the least, is something to value.”
Sebastian’s grades in school weren’t the best, but he thought he got a pretty good grasp of basic. So when the next words came out of his mouth, he regretted them as soon as they came. “Lunch? Together?”
Of course, that’s what she meant, idiot. After the self-deprecating thought, he finally gathered the courage to look at her again, this time instead of a dry stare, a sheepish half smile. “That’s, uh, cool with me. And lemme just pay for those… as an apology. I wasn’t paying attention.”
He dug into his pocket and offered the credits he thought might cover the cost of the items. He was tight on funds, but at least he had a little wiggle room. How much could some coloring supplies cost, anyway?
“Mhm, I am afraid so. Passing on this gift would require life-changing enhancements. That step still requires much contemplation, you seem too precious to waste on an experiment,” Aphotis’s electric-blue eyes stared dreamily at her nails as she said it. Her tail elegantly swooned with accelerating movements, that made it seem to swerve oppositely and much slower than it did. She wasn’t in the habit of harming admirers. Mato’s melancholic and hungry energy felt revitalizing to her, like taking a sip of the Force itself.
Sharing her second skin would be akin to replicating her own cells, the only thing that came close to that in the Sith’s mind was reproduction. It would have to spread like a virus and become dominant, yet somehow induce variation and evolve. An evasive and parasitic creation of an entirely new species. That seemed entirely too personal and high-stakes to her, but it made her wonder.
The memory of her time before the merging flashed by, making her feel the physical and mental agony she went through to stabilize herself, reminding her of the immense dark side power that was required to keep her body together at all. The Force itself would make this nigh impossible.
If she still had hairs on her skin, they would have been standing up, instead, it felt like a cold breeze of air passing over her, tinged with spikes of pain.
Better to start small.
“Yes, I need that drink,” her eyes fluttered open as she looked at him, her lips forming into a wicked smile, “if you ever feel like touching me is worth risking your life, you must know that I frequent this place and I will know when you are ready. I will not ask when that time comes. It has been a pleasure.”
It took him a moment, as it oft did, to recover his senses from being called Uncle. He quickly wiped his eyes, dropping a kiss to the top of baby Lektra’s little head more out of habitual instinct than anything else, before turning his full attention to what Sulla presented.
And what a wonder it was!
“Oooh,” the hybrid gasped, reaching out carefully to touch the glass, like he might have to pull his hand back quickly. But it was only glass. “Mother Moon!” he exclaimed softly to his Goddess. “It is not even cold. How does the snow stay? How are the animals inside?” His smile was bewildered but brilliant true. “Snow, Sulla! How lovely!”
When Dusa and Matcha looked at their lottery scratch cards, they found chibified tailrings printed all over the flimsi. Each one had an ‘x’ in the middle of its round, wide cartoon butt, which faced viewer, to be scratched off and reveal winning – or losing – numbers. The jackpot was relatively small, which matched the price of the ticket, but it was all Dusa needed!
Unfortunately, as she rubbed the butts off of six tailrings winking over their shoulders at her, no big prize was revealed. She did win twenty credits though with a pair of fruits, and one present which was good for an appetizer at the Golden Griddle.
<@301514304845381632> <@216702440140046336>
“AWWW YEA!” Dusa exclaimed, her yellow eyes widen at the excitement.
“Look it! See? Luck is turning around!” She grinned as she thanked them when she got twenty credits in return. Now, anyone can argue that she lost eighty credits but the sheer fact that she won something was exhilarating.
“So! About that lunch?” Her stomach was growling. Heck yea. A free appetizer and she could figure out if something was worth twenty credits when they get to the Golden Griddle.
<@301514304845381632>
Words, lots of words all around. Bril spoke with the niave optimism of someone who had yet to see the hell his abilities could lay at his feet, while the gentleman in the corner spoke with an over-intelluctal tone. Both did a disservice to the beast the Force was. The Force was no tool, it was a living breathing thing, and they were all at the mercy of it. It guided them throughout life, allowing them to chose the path to their destiny, but setting the distination in stone. A fatalistic view, sure, but not one that wasn’t proven wrong.
“Some weapons are worse than others.” She turned her focus on Bril once more, standing up from her seat. She might have been smaller but her frame was wider than most people, a testament to her musculature.
“Head the warning, Bril Teg Arga. I have lived a long life, I have walked side by side with the force. I have let it guide me and I have fought it in equal measures. Not only are we at it’s mercy, at it’s beck and call– but it will bring you sorrow, just like it has brought everyone else. There is not a person I know who has not thought that life would be better off without their abilities. You’ll see it too, some day. The weight your "blessing” places on your shoulders, the people you’ll hurt, the ravines it will gauge from your happiness, the things it will take from you. Some might call it worth it, but my culture puts many things before power– it is not worth it to me.“
Emerald eyes then traveled to the tiny Nautolan who had appeared at Bril’s side. Of course she remembered Minnow, as she memorized the faces of everyone who took off their helmets at Sofila’s Homecoming. She crossed her right arm over her chest, thumping her fist twice against her left pec, then bowed her head.
"Of course I remember you, Minnow. Su cuy'gar, verd'ika. It is good to see you again.”
<@1056685516441006091> <@244244163002892288> <@102435651189743616>
Having missed the first parts of whatever had garnered that speech in response, Minnie was just quiet, respectfully so, throughout the end that she caught. It was kinda eerie, how Lillian Armis didn’t sound so different from how she had the day she and her Zabrak meant. Heed the warning, Bril Teg Arga.
“Look me in the eyes, Bril Teg Agra.”
“I CHALLENGE YOU, BRIL TEG AGRA!”
“My kind does not forget, and only death stops us. I don’t challenge you to some brawl, aruetii. Your insult goes too far. Par ner vod. For my brother, I call for blood. Choose your weapons and I will answer, Bril Teg Arga.”
Still, Lillian had clearly been through a lot. And the pain and loss the Force could bring was no stranger to Minnie, to any of the Erinos. But that didn’t mean she necessarily liked the way the older Mandalorian spoke to her boyfriend so condemningly.
One of her hands went to brace at his back, a comfort, obvious thanks to the merch she had hanging off it. She put on a smile for Lilian.
“You as well, alor. Are you going? I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
Oblivious to exactly the extent of what details were going on behind those arctic eyes, Mato just choked on half a whimper at being called too precious less than ten minutes in to meeting this shiny latex dom goddess. He chuckled at himself as much as to himself.
“Oh, I’m in danger,” he whispered, laughing softly. Don’t go broke, don’t go broke, chanted in his head, along with the smell of ozone on Ray’s skin, Flor’s hair clogging the drain, Vi’s little sighs. He was a man praying to be good and stay good. ‘Life changing enchantments ’ and ‘experiment’ coming from a lady like this was probably some real Forcey magicky karkery kist, or had animal sacrifices, or people sacrifices, or cyborg parts, who knew? Maybe she was some sex demon sent specifically to haunt him for littering in the parking lot sometimes or leaving the seat up once. Regardless, it didn’t feel like, ‘hey get another drunk tattoo’ or ‘just try a little dream dust’ kind of ‘life changing experiments’. Not when she literally said he’d be risking his life and that she wouldn’t ask.
“Yeah, yeah, yes, a pleasure, Mistr– guh, ma'am. Aphotis. Nice to chat with you. I’ll be…well, here.” He waved about the store. “See you.”
Walk fast walk fast walk fast.
The same bright smile he always had when around his beloved appeared on Bril’s face when he heard Minnie’s voice, which prompted him to turn and reach out to take her hand. “It’s going. I have the data I need. Just going to review it here in a sec,” he replied before gesturing to the bags. “I see you found what you were looking for.”
<@244244163002892288>
When the unfamiliar Mandalorian male arrived, Bril gave him a nod of recognition while remaining quiet so he could hear what he had to say. He hadn’t expected to encounter another person who seemingly had personal knowledge of the destruction of Mandalore but he supposed if there was anywhere he was likely to find them, it’d be here in Brotherhood territory. And he was happy to hear that someone else supported his opinion if only in part.
<@102435651189743616>
Lillian was next. He remained silent for a moment, absorbing what she had to say, reflecting on it.
“Sorrow, pressure, pain … all of those are things I’d likely feel even if I didn’t have the Force. If there was no Force at all. Life is hard. This galaxy is full of dangers, some I’m sure I can scarcely imagine. But it’s also full of beauty, and of life. Life that I’m fortunate enough to feel in a way that most can’t,” Even in a way that most Force users can’t, he thought. “I know that the Force has a will of its own. But even if I’m ultimately powerless in light of that, which I’m not convinced of, I still get to decide how I respond to what life throws my way … how I feel about it and how it’ll shape me.
"I respect your view and how your life has informed your perspective, but I can’t possibly think of it as a curse when it lets me connect with her in a way that I never imagined possible. Minnow isn’t even Force sensitive herself, yet we still have this bond. Imagine being connected to the person you love with such depth that you feel your own chest rise and fall with every breath they take. How could I ever think of that as a curse?”
-
He took a deep breath to steady himself a moment, squeezing Minnow’s hand firmly while looking back at Lillian.
<@264959101384130560>
It was so hard sometimes, still hating the Force and having no intent of changing that all the way when her Kitty talked like that. Her expression softened, an aww face, and she squeezed his hand back.
Ira poured the whiskey in question, moseying over to join Reiden since the other half of her bar was debating Mandalore and the Force, and no thanks to that. Sociopolitical topics didn’t get tips. She slid him his glass, then poured herself a shot, knocking it back. “Repairs, huh? You get yourself into some trouble?”
He laughed, taking a sip of the amber liquor. The familiar flavor was a welcome one with notes of vanilla on the finish, the warmth spreading through his chest.
“Yeah, you could say that. Stopped to get my bearing and check fuel levels when an exogorth tried to take a bite out of my ship. The karking giant worm nearly tore one of the radiator panels off, but it didn’t like the sunlight engines blasting at it. I’m just glad I was nearby. Service here is always top notch.”
“Bet it is,” Ira said with a wink and a purr, leaning back to sip at her whiskey now, savoring too. “Seems it’s a day for big shit trying to eat ships, you’re the third one today. Second was that chick.” She nodded towards Lillian. “Sure glad you made it back to us in one piece.”
A sip was taken from the glass of abrax and then both of Alex’s hands raised in a universally recognized signal of surrender.
“I again offer my apologies if I gave offense, as such was the farthest from my intent. I have clearly stepped into a situation beyond my place to speak, and will now find my exit with what tatters of my dignity remain. Mayhaps if we cross paths again it will be in lighter moods and brighter days,” a small smile split his features as if he were laughing at a joke only he could understand. “If ever the day comes when you wish to share a drink with a friendly face, I imagine I will be finding myself about this region of the galaxy for a while yet. Ask after Marquis Bogr-” he caught himself, tilting his head for a moment in thought before continuing, “once again my tongue escaped my grasp, letting old habits and old spirits slip. Ask after Alex Draconis,” as good a name as any, “and you will always find a bottle willing to be shared.”
Having spoken his piece, Alex retreated to the spot he had previously occupied at the bar, not wanted to interpose himself any more in an obvious reunion of sorts. Perhaps he would find luck and there would be some other interesting individual he could strike up a conversation with, without shoving his beskar boot quite so firmly in his mouth. For now though, there was the matter of a quite fine glass of abrax to attend to while the time passed.
Marquis Bogr-what? the Nautolan thought to herself, narrowing her eyes as Alex Draconis, allegedly, moved away. She’d have to run that name through her socials and by her brothers for any partial matches. It was likely nothing, could’ve even been a dead name, gosh, but Foxxie had raised her to be thorough, and she was on the job, kind of. A Fade never wasn’t.
Stance squaring a little bit beside her Zabrak, looking back to the Armis queen politely.
That makes two of us,” he replied, giving her a grin as he sipped. “I guess today is just one of those days then.” He looked over to where she indicated, a flash of recognition crossing his face when he spotted Bril, though he didn’t know who the others were. It was good to see that things appeared to be back to normal, at least on the surface, for the young Zabrak. He wanted to apologize again for the trouble back in the Caperion system, but thought better of interrupting whatever may have been going on, deciding to wait until later, if the chance presented itself.
He laid some credits on the bar. “Thanks for the drink.”
Ira cooed at him. “Thanks for the tip, Rei,” she replied, making the credits disappear. “You look like you seen a ghost. Or maybe an ex?” A casual shrug of her shoulders rolled towards the other group.
He turned back to her and shook his head. “Oh, just someone I met not long ago, that’s all. It was…complicated,” he admitted, sipping his whiskey. “Some orders got a little botched, but hopefully I made it right in the end.”
“Bartenders live for complicated. You want my five cred advice?” She offered a sharp smile.
Reiden shrugged and slid five credits across the bar. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”
“It was a figure of speech, babe,” Ira said, but that five sure blinked out of existence anyway. “See, anytime somebody says it’s complicated, usually means we ain’t talked yet. So why don’t you talk to them. They’re right here. I’ll even say you bought ‘em a drink. Or wings. Food makes great overtures for peace and all that diplomatic jazz.” The woman leaned in, her red eyes bright and smoky, grin knowing. “You seem like a nice guy, Rei. I bet you managed to make right, and if not, you’d be easy…to forgive.”
He nodded, a smile as he finished his drink. “I’m aware. And you’re right, we haven’t met up or spoken since then. We were on a job and someone else got their wires crossed, did something they shouldn’t have. Maybe a misunderstanding, maybe something more, I’m not sure. But I tried to make it right, clear the air. Anyway, our paths don’t cross typically and we essentially frequent opposite ends of the galaxy, various schedules keeping us busy. But you make a good point. Might as well say something now while the opportunity is there.”
A slight grin fluttered across Lektra’s lips when Sebastian responded with the eloquence of a chair. A small feeling of worry began to gather deep within her, but it was quickly erased when the man managed to form a complete sentence and accepted her invitation.
The feeling of butterflies grumbled in the Firrerreo’s stomach when the human in front of her grinned, something she had never experienced before. What an odd sensation.
“You can apologize by joining me for lunch. Sound good?”
As Koda continued to look around he could have sworn he heard the familiar laughter of his niece. Koda approached from the side and once Sulla caught a glimpse of him he picked her up and lifted her onto his shoulders. “Now what are my neices doing in a place like this without their mother?” He joked, nodding to Rue, “I take it my sister trusts you a lot to take care of her little ones, especially her littlest.” Koda motioned to the baby Lektra. Sulla giggled and messed a with Koda’s banadage a little, he looked up at her “Don’t mess with that, little one, gotta keep that there or else I won’t heal my booboo.”
Rue initially seemed ready to protest whoever had reached for Sulla, but upon recognizing Koda, he smiled at the man. Not recognizing the joke, he was quick to explain as his tail tucked slightly, cheeks flushing with the enormous praise of trust, “Elly is here with us. She is getting the food and the table. There will be dino nuggies. We are playing in the meanwhile,” he explained, still bobbing with Lektra strapped to his chest, though a bit concerned looking for Sulla up on her real uncle’s shoulders with that glass globe. His attention was drawn then to the bandage. “Do you have a need of healing, Sir Koda? This one can help.”
“No no, it’s quite alright. I’ve got it taken care of. I don’t want this one to heal without a little scarring. A reminder.” He kept that part quiet enough just so that Rue heard it, letting Sulla stay distracted with the globe. “Hope I’m not intruding on anything, just surprised to see everyone. I’ve had a bit of a week.”
Zehsaa glanced towards the Twi'lek as she paid for the drinks and food and left a nice tip for Ira. Grabbing her drinks and snacks she turned towards him and shrugged slightly, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance from the Brotherhood, mostly. It was refreshing to survive alone for a while and made some animal friends.”
She motioned to him to follow her towards one of the tables. “How about you? What have you been doing?” <@339758862406254592> <@244244163002892288>
Matcha opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Dusa had just lost 80 credits and was celebrating. What an odd specimen.
But again, her enthusiasm was infectious. “Sure, let’s do it.” Matcha was desperate for a little bit of company and now she was getting a show all at the same time, how could she pass that up?
“Come on,” she motioned for Dusa to follow her as she made her way towards the diner
Rue blinked saffron eyes at the man slowly, somewhat confused by the concept of keeping a scar as a reminder, but he dipped his head in deference nonetheless, whispering, “If there are any others, this one can heal them and not the other, should Sir ever wish.”
Then, a bit louder, following the lead of Koda, “Intruding? No, Sir Koda. How could you be? You are their family. Please, stay. Would you like to talk about your week? Would you like a hug?”
Rue opened his boney arms – arm and a half – in offering, Lektra gumming at a lock of his shimmering braid.
As the two entered, the host waved at them, perhaps a Pantoran or Chiss, but quite blue head to toe, eyes and hair and skin. He trotted after them to leave some menus.
“Your server will be right with you, welcome in!” he said, then headed back to the stand at the front.
Indeed, moments later came a Zeltron woman with flower patterns sewn into her apron and endless red hair. She smiled hugely and had a pad under her arm.
“Hiya folks! Welcome in to the Griddle. I’m Flor and I’ll be serving you today. Can I start us off with some caf? Waters?” She flexed one arm. “What about a power greens smoothie?” <@339758862406254592>
“Not much of a hugger and I need my arms free in case Sulla drops the-” As if having foresight, Sulla drops the snow globe and Koda is just barely able to catch it, “Like I almost said.” He put the globe back on the shelf.
Rue dipped his head again then stepped back, looking up at Sulla – though with her on Koda’s shoulders, she was just barely above him if he didn’t stoop. “Did you want the globe with the snow, Sulla? <@301514304845381632>
“Aw, yea!” Dusa smiled as she followed Matcha to the Golden Griddle.
“So! What got you here to Shame Corner? For me, I am just waiting on a friend to return from his job and then we’ll just see where life takes us by then.”
“Hey there,” called a blue-colored man(?), as the two ladies approached the Griddle from the host stand. “Welcome in! First time here? You folks want a table or booth? Bartop?”
<@216702440140046336> <@301514304845381632>
Doc walked through the door first, eyes peering around the corner, his helmet tucked between his arm and hip. He stood there a moment, taking it all in, the matte black of his armor seeming to soak in the light in the hectic station. An eyebrow slowly went up on the clone’s face, his lips twisting into a devilish smirk beneath a well-trimmed beard. Tilting his head, he cast a look back at the Twi'lek he accompanied, her lekku twitching….well, one more so than the other.
“What?” Leena caught up to him, turning her head to see what had forced such a response out of him. “Not the …slippers, is it?” Her left lekku jabbed at her back. Those things were an affront to all things, holy and otherwise.
“Slippers?” Hekate’s triple-voice interjected, curious. “Do you mean…”
Leena spun on her heel, a stern finger pointing at the anodized apprentice as her lips pursed. “Don’t. Frelling. Say. It.” She punctuated each individual word with forceful jabs.
Hekate cackled all over again, the sound resonating from deep within their torso. Doc shifted his gaze from Leena to Hekate and back again, not even giving breath to the obvious question before turning to look back inside the monument to commercialism that lay before them. “So… best coffee in the parsec, you say?”
“Clean ‘freshers, too.” Leena slowly softened her glare at Hekate and turned back to Doc. “Snacks and such. A place to meet… well, you know the type.” All manner of contacts and connections, clandestine and obvious would show up in envoy locations such as this. It was all but a necessity, given their disparate goals. Her mind drifted for a moment, the list of discontinued droid parts and salvaged circuitry long in her mind. The contact they were supposed to meet there was a fresh one for her, and showing up with a little added muscle seemed prudent. Not that the former Nephilim couldn’t handle herself, but you never could be too safe.
“Then I suppose…” Doc smiled again. “They have a bar?”
“A water will be fine.” Zentru'la turned back to Zehsaa. “Still running The Vornskr Battalion. Forces are growing, we’re taking on new clients. We still take a lot of work from the Brotherhood, but we’re an independent company and take contracts from other groups too.”
“I have heard rumours that it has been quite hectic at times,” she said as she took a sip from her drink.
She looked at the others that entered the bar. Quite a curious gathering.
The Human rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the notion that just sitting down and eating was enough to pay for his blunder.
“Nah, not really,” he admitted with a nervous laugh. “I mean lunch is good. Really good ‘cause it’s with you. But I think I should take care of that.” Again, he gestured to the items he knocked out of her hands. It was instilled from a young age that he should never be in anyone’s debt and pay back as much as he could. With credits. Credits were the one thing that made this stupid galaxy go around.
Maybe he could compromise or reason with her. “Look, I don’t wanna be a jerk, it’s that orrr… I pay for your lunch.“
“Controlled chaos,” said the General. “We take on a lot of work, but we’re in control of the contracts we take. We want to expand, but overworking the troops is a very fast way to losing them, whether in battle or to desertion. It’s a balance of keeping the credits flowing, but not stretching ourselves too thin. Our special agents, the Vornskr Agents, are contracted on a mission-by-mission basis, they’re free to decline anything they don’t want to do. But we pay enough that they usually don’t.”
She chuckles softly. ‘controlled chaos’ sounds like home, she silently thought.
“I see. So what kind of task do you have for me?” The togruta asked as she tilted her head slightly.
“We’re lacking an elite marksman, and you’re one of the best snipers I’ve ever served with. I’m offering you a place in the Vornskr agents, as a specialist sniper and scout.”
“I can certainly be that for your agents. Might take some time to get used to work in group again.”
“Our Vornskr Agents are the ones that can be trusted to work alone. You’ve proven your ability to me already.”
“Good,” she said with a grin and took another sip of her drink.
“Anything interesting happening?”
“The Taldryan Republic have been facing an uprising from a human supremacist organisation called the Human League. They’ve contracted us to eliminate particular, high value targets. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have behind the scope.”
Zehsaa raised her eyebrows in surprise before frowning slightly. “The Human League? Sounds like an interesting target to take out. Guess they want some high guys to paint the grass?”
A soft breath was Lillian’s first reply, and a soft shake of her head. She wouldn’t ruin these kids’ day with her kist. There were some benefits to the force, absolutely, but every curse had something that made you want to keep it. The silver lining that almost made it worth it. The scar-covered woman slipped her arms back into her body suit before opening her mouth.
“Nah, little warrior. Not leaving. Just too karking old to put this kist back on while siting.”
She zipped the suit back up and began putting the plates of armor back on.
“I admire your tenacity, Bril. I won’t drag down your day with your old lady with my war stories and kriffing baggage. We each get our own opinions, yeah? That’s what makes us Whole. What gives us manda.”
Once her armor was back on, she settled back into her seat with a groan. Ancestors her everything hurt. She gestured to the seats next to her.
“Udesiir. Udesiir. Rest those shopping-weary feet.”
<@244244163002892288>
Old Lady?!
ExCUSe you MA'AM she was only TWENTY SIX YEARS YOUNG TYVM.
Minnie’s eye twitched, and in her head, she could hear Jax chuckling at her (she couldn’t remember Foxen’s laugh, after all). But Lilian was nice though and her sentiments were true and it was hard to refuse one of her own people bidding her to sit and enjoy a little food and drink like that, like an auntie. It felt good. Like the old days, when their Clan had been whole.
“Oya, alor Armis, yes, ma'am,” she said lightly, pulling her Bril down with her. Well, he went down. She had to go up on the bar stool. Fraking cheater. “You sound weary yourself. Was it at least a good fight?”
Upon hearing Lilian’s response, Bril gave her a warm smile and a nod. “I’m always happy to hear more of your life and experiences later, though,” he said, “We could trade contact information. I’ve been meaning to arrange a big gathering with all of the friends and family I’ve made since joining the Brotherhood and I’d love to have you and yours there.”
Hearing her comment about Minnie being his “old lady” gave Bril an idea. He promptly went into his datapad and changed her contact name to that, grinning mischieveously the whole time while doing so. Once he was finished, he lifted his head to await Lillian’s reply.
Sulla held onto her uncle while nodding to her other uncle, “Yes!” She exclaimed. “It reminds me of our old home and the snow and the cold. I miss it.”
“Just a pit stop, really. Been wandering around for a bit and needed some fuel for the ship and my body so I decided to swing on through.”
When the pair were approached by a host, Matcha took the lead. “We’ll take a booth, please.” While they were on their way to their seats, the Mirialan continued the conversation with Dusa “Must be a short job if you’re waiting here instead of some sort of hotel.” <@244244163002892288>
For a short moment, she felt like a complete fool. If it wasn’t for Sebastian’s quick save, Lektra certainly would’ve been left hurt and rejected after the man began with ‘not really.’
“Sure, I’ll let you pay for lunch if that will make you feel better,” the Firrerreo said with zero intention of letting him pay. She truly didn’t care that he knocked the pencils out of her hands. No damage had really been done to the product itself. The only thing damaged was Lektra’s pride. She felt foolish having run into the man with how much she valued her spatial awareness.
“Wanna eat at the bar or the diner?” The woman asked, unsure herself. She wanted to make sure the stranger would be happy with wherever they ended up eating.
“No idea what they want, other than human supremacy. But there’s a place in this war for a talented sniper that leaves no footprints.” A commlink audibly bleeped in Zentru'la’s ear. “I should return to HQ. If you ever need any supplies, weapons or maintenance, the Perune Orbital District will have everything you need.”
Sebastian had no preference for one or the other but also had no desire to go back and forth with the stranger so he shrugged and said, “The Diner seems cool.” Hopefully, there were nuggets and chips to satisfy his bland palate. If they were tasty, he could recommend the spot to his sister.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels as he looked at her again, each time becoming a little easier. “‘m Sebastian, by the way.”
Alex had been holding up one end of the bar for a bit, and finally found himself in the lamentable situation of his glass being empty. He pushed it toward the back side of the bar and motioned toward the bartender.
“When you have a spare moment, my good publican, though no need to rush on my account,” the slow drawl of his voice made it clear he was planning on being here for some time yet. “I appreciate the fine taste of that vintage, though I am afraid I cannot partake of more as I could in my prime. I find that in the fragile constitution of my advanced age,” a wry grin spread across a face that appeared no more than late-middle-aged at best, “too much abrax has a tendency to disrupt the delicate balance of my humours. I daresay, however, that I do not believe those scales would be tipped too much were I to be provided with a simple lager to spend some time with.”
As he slowly scanned the bar again, eyes and ears attuned - more from force of habit than any distinct intent - for any scene of interest to him.
“Cool,” was all the woman said in response to Sebastian’s decision. She shifted in place, slowly getting comfortable with their shared awkwardness. Lektra crossed her arms, bringing the notepad and pencils close to her chest and holding them there to gain a small sense of security.
The girl hummed as she digested the man’s name. Sebastian. She didn’t know what a Sebastian was supposed to seem like, but the name certainly fits the man’s appearance, at least to her. “My name’s Lektra,” she replied.
The silence that followed walked the line between comfortable and awkward until it was broken once more. “We should probably head over,”
“Do you mean the Kasiya?” Rue asked, smiling at her. His shining brows furrowed a bit at the last. “This one knows the missing of an old home. It misses mine as well. What do you miss?” Quietly, he worried she was unhappy on the Selen. “Do you wish to go back?” <@351852811883118594>
The blue host guided them over to a booth beside an already occupied one with a Togruta and a Twi'lek, likely in the same server’s area. He smiled, set down their menus, and headed back to the entrance. He had already spied another approaching pair, and intended to wait for them.
Meanwhile, a Zeltron woman came over to Matcha and Dusa, smiling in greeting.
“Afternoon, folks! I’m Flor, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you any drinks started? Got any questions about the menu?”
<@216702440140046336>
Ira, waylaid from her conversation with Reiden by the excessively loquacious Mandalorian, merely cocked a hip and waited for whatever would be the order at the end of his speech. Being a bartender, she was pretty used to listening, and didn’t seem irritated, though not patient either.
“Any preference on your lager?” she asked, noting his looking around yet again and how he’d tried to make conversation earlier with the other bar patrons. “You waiting for someone, or looking for someone?”
“No particular preference, really,” Alex gave a small shrug, “in either lager or persons. I have been…shall we say ‘away’ from civilization and the presence of other living beings for quite some time, and am simply making efforts to reacclimate myself. With what have clearly been none-too-positive results,” he tilted his head slightly toward the other patrons to which he had previously spoken.
Ira reclined to grab a large, tall glass that rounded out wider at the top than the bottom, choosing a tap to fill it from until the foam barely held to the lip with surface tension alone. She set it down easily in front of him, rich, buttery and dark in color.
“You’re not the first shut-in, won’t be the last. Baby steps. You’ll get there again. Good tip is to not drop into serious topics uninvited, even if you got somethin’ ta say. Maybe try hitting up one on one. Maybe just ask first if you can join in. That goes a long way, babe,” the fanged woman advised. She winked. “And you can always hit up your ‘tender, 'specilally if you keep tippin’. Might even help you make some introductions.”
“Vor entye,” he took a long pull of the cold beer, “for the drink and the advice. And I suppose for the confidence in my ability to eventually return to form.”
“Needs must remember that this is not my time nor my place,” Alex stared into the slight foam remaining on his lager as he thought to himself, “and these people do not know me - for better or worse. I may have been well-known and decently well-respected back home, but here I am just some old man. I would do best to mind my own business until I have made an acquaintance or two.”
“I have managed to have one pleasant conversation this day,” he spoke aloud as he laid a few more credits on the bar as a tip, “even if it is at least partially in your job description.” The very corners of his lips turned upward in a slight smile as he took another sip of his drink.
“Hi Flor! I loooooove soups. What soups ya got?” Dusa smiled at the server.
“Lektra,” he repeated with a slight smile. “I like that. It’s kinda like electric.” No. Stop speaking. The joint silence was enough to confirm that his comment wasn’t amusing to her in the slightest.
He nodded in agreement with her assessment. “Yeah. We probably should.”
They made their way over to the check-out line. Sebastian stood off to the side of the line while he waited on his acquaintance. He looked around, avoiding eye contact with as many people as he could. His eyes bounced from sign to sign until they landed on the neon sign of the bar. It had been a while since his last drink. Maybe she would be interested as well.
“Hey uh, wanna check out the bar instead?” Sebastian asked when the Firrerreo approached him again.
Zehsaa arched a brow, “But you just got here, don’t you have more free time?”
Zen shook his head, “There is always a need for leadership.”
She nodded slightly, “Alright, I will come look for you once my rifle is working properly again. Take care.”
When Sebastian made his electric comment, all Lektra could do was close her eyes for a few moments before opening them again and nodding. “I think the checkout is this way.”
Lektra was always nervous and a little uncomfortable when doing mundane things like checking out or even simple grocery shopping. As silly as it sounded, she was glad to have Sebastian there with her. It made the whole experience a little more bearable. As usual, the process was quick and painless, and the pair were done with their shopping.
“Sure,” the Firrerreo said in response to the bar suggestion. She had never been to a bar before but knew it was a thing ordinary people did, so she did her best to play it cool. Why she felt the need to play it cool, she didn’t know.
Matcha joined Dusa in following the host to a booth and slid in across from the Pantoran. She pondered what to get, having had quite a bit off of the menu in the past.
But in no time at all, their server arrived. “Hey there,” the Mirialan said in greeting before looking back down at the menu so she could decide while Dusa figured out what soup she wanted. <@216702440140046336>
Sulla nodded to her purple uncle. “I miss the snow and the noodles we used to always get. I miss seeing Mama excited before she left for work. Mama says it’s good that we’re on Selen now” <@351852811883118594>
“Cool,” the Human replied. He adjusted the strap on his duffle bag and led the way to the bar. The atmosphere was everything he was used to whenever he went to a bar. The only peculiar part was this was the first fuel station he’d seen with one.
The pair approached the bar hovering next to the stools, Sebastian awkwardly offered a wave to the tender with a tight-lipped smile. “So… what’s your favorite drink?” He asked the Firrerreo, glancing in her direction.
Lektra followed her new companion along through the station to the Seven Sins Bar. While they were walking, she tried to brainstorm some topics to chat about after they sat down but came up mostly blank.
Her time to think quickly ran out and she was suddenly stuck with the question of what she liked to drink, something she had no idea about. “Uhm…” she thought for a moment before remembering a drink her mom talked about a couple times. “I think I like cider?” She said it almost as a question. “What do you like to drink?” <@244244163002892288>
Flor giggled. “Soup’s pretty great, yeah! We have a couple kinds, broccoli cheddar, country breakfast – that’s potato, bacon, steak, sausage, gravy, cheese, chives – a chowder, chicken noodle, a nice onion clear broth, tomato, goes great with the grilled cheese, pumpkin squash…” She listed a few more, then smiled to Dusa too.
<@216702440140046336>
Rue nodded along back to her, extremely attentive and solemn as he listened. “Those are lovely things to miss. My grandmother would say to me, to miss someone or something is to have loved them, even if only for a minute, only just the one, and that means they are always with you, right here.” He reached up and poked her very lightly in the chest, then her forehead, carefully brushing over her lekku in a gentle pat. “And here. Which is not anatomically correct, but nonetheless true. You can be glad to be now on the Selen, and still miss the Kasiya. That is alright.”
He pulled his arm back, mindful not to touch Koda at all without an order or permission, and smiled for Sulla as he gave Lektra his hand instead. Her two little hands gripped one of his fingers. She might have fussed – teething again – save that he hummed a bit and banished the pain with a silent prayer.
“Perhaps, we can have noodles like them on Selen? I do not know about the snow. You and I can read about it. Perhaps there is snow somewhere there, or we can find a way to make it. Or perhaps your mother or Sir Koda know!”
<@351852811883118594>
Ira cracked a grin back at the man, picking the credits up and this time going slowly enough for her sleight of hand to be visible, making the chits dance along her knuckles back and forth in a showy fashion before she snatched them back into her palm.
“There ya go then, that’s one,” she encouraged. “Ain’t diminished cause it’s my job, babes. I choose to do this, you know. We all do, this place.” She shrugged one deeply inked canvas of muscled shoulder, and winked a knowing ruby eye. “And some of us are older than we look, old man. Trust me, if I can remake myself from shit nothing and ash, so can you. Not your time or place anymore? Learn it. Grab it and don’t let go. Get a holonet account and find some porn and galactic news. Chat up randos in a bar. Check out our bulletin board up front and find some gig or calling that speaks to you, or whoever you intend to be now. Savvy?”
“I think I like cider too,” Sebastian said nodding with a smirk. It was, in fact, his favorite. He only wanted to include his newfound friend so she wouldn’t feel left out. While they waited for the bartender, the Human tried to think of a question to ask and settled for something simple.
“So, uh, where’re you from?”
A groan escaped the elder Mandalorian who was suddenly reminded of the monstrosity that tried to destroy her loaner ship.
“No.” She huffed, taking a sip of her Whiskey, “The kriffing thing almost ate my karking ship and all I could do is fly away.”
The symptom of having things to live for meant you tried to escape rather than defeat every enemy in your path. The redhead once again flopped her head on the bartop– which seemed to be the last straw for her crown of braids. Her dark red locks tumbled from their pinned place on her head, revealing curls that fell just above her shoulder blades.
There was silence for a second before Lillian raised a hand, a particular finger raised at the ceiling as if telling the Universe to “Kark Off”.
“Plenty of places with snow we could visit. We’d just need to ask your Mama.” *Koda turned his head up a little more towards Sulla, “And I’ve got plenty of noodles I could cook up for you, and not the cheap stuff.”
<@301514304845381632>
“Oh. OH GEEZ.” Dusa groaned as she leaned back in her seat. They all sounded so good! How was she supposed to choose one? If only if she had two or three stomachs. Or a bigger one.
Man, imagine the credits you would need if that was the case. Maybe one stomach wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
“Gurl, why do they all sound so good, this is unfair- hm. Okay, I’ll do country breakfast!”
<@301514304845381632>
Lektra found herself with a slight smirk. From the sounds of it, neither of them had tried cider before, so now they’d get to experience it together. She hoped with all her heart that it was as good as her mama always said it was.
But then he asked where she was from. She was born on Kasiya but raised in a very different place, but now she currently lives on Selen. She wondered which place he was wondering about but decided to run with her current living arrangements.
“I’ve got a place on Selen,” she said before realizing he probably didn’t know every planet in the galaxy. Hurriedly, she tried to correct her mistake, “It’s a tropical world with some really pretty beaches and cities. Really warm, though.”
Sulla looked at Rue as he talked, doing her best to be respectful and not look at the shelf of wonderous items behind him. She steadied herself on Koda’s shoulder when Rue went to poke her chest, nervous she’d lose her balance while being so high up. The Twi'lek regarded him with a bit of wonder when he poked her chest and then head and then lekku. Some of his words were big and hard to understand, but she understood the general gist of it all.
But then both her uncles offered ways to not only get noodles but also find some snow. She was very grateful to have family that cared so much about her. “Hear that, Uncle Rue? Uncle Koda has noodles he can cook us and he knows where snow is!” <@351852811883118594>
Matcha held a smile on her face as she watched the Pantoran experience every emotion under the stars over what soup to order. She was tempted to tease Dusa and throw a wrench into everything by questioning her decision but decided to hold off. They had only just met and she didn’t want to ruin whatever first impression she was making on the woman.
“Y'know, that sounds pretty good. I’ll do the same, please.” <@244244163002892288>
The answer she gave wasn’t entirely the answer he was looking for. It still worked in his favor, though.
“Selen?” His voice contained some familiarity in it, one of his bushy brows raising. He was surprised to meet someone who lived on such a remote planet. The assignment he got was for a two-year contract and everything about it was classified. “I’m headin’ there now, actually.”
It gave the young man a glimmer of hope that this wouldn’t be their first and final meeting. For a moment he found himself staring at her face again but this time was free of his initial nerves. He blinked and looked at the bartop before he commented on her description of the planet. “Pretty beaches and warm weather sure as heck beats the cold and dead shipyards of Corellia.”
“Two country breakfast soups coming up!” Flor confirmed. “I’ll just get you some waters for now, yeah? Be back in a giff.”
With that the server went off, leaving the women to their own devices.
<@301514304845381632> <@315438760428961793>
Rue beamed at her. “Yes! That’s wonderful, Sulla! Sir Koda is our Savior.” He smiled to Koda too and dipped what was closer to a curtsey, unable to bow given Lektra was swaddled to his chest and gumming on his knuckles. <@351852811883118594>
He’d spotted her attention wandering though.
“Do you want to look at more toys?”
“I do suppose finding some sort of work could do me well, though it has been quite a long time since I grabbed at random postings off a bulletin board,” a rueful smile as he remembered days long past. “Perhaps I shall take a look and see if there is anything present which catches my fancy. In the meantime, since you are of the sort who I am sure all news makes its way to eventually, I would appreciate it if perhaps you could pass on my information to anyone who may be looking for a well-experienced hired gun at reasonable rates.”
He placed a datachip on the bar containing his holonet frequency along with another stack of credits, “And I do believe I will have one more of these lagers before I go investigate employment opportunities.”
Ira grabbed the datachip and pocketed it in her cargo pants slung low on her hips under the mostly bare expanse of her inked torso. Then she pulled the glass back and refilled it before sliding it over with a grin.
“I’ll keep you in mind, Marquis,” she said, then sauntered over to the two newest patrons at her bar, who looked as green as the melon sour: young faces, fidgeting demeanors, unsure and wide eyed gazes at the bar itself. And awkwardly maybe flirting. It was almost vomit-worthy, like watching puppies play.
The woman settled up to them with an arched brow, her expression just a little bit sweeter than sharp.
“Hey there, welcome in. You two look a little overwhelmed.”
<@301514304845381632> <@315438760428961793>
“Water is great, yea!” Dusa grinned as Flo left to get their food. Her piercing yellow eyes went back over to Matcha.
“So, did you say why were you here for again? What you were- Ugh. I hate Common. Let me try again. Whatcha doing here at this good ol’ Shame Corner?”
<@301514304845381632>
Rapidly Sulla nodded her head in affirmation. “Yes!” But she stopped herself, remembering yet another lesson her mother had taught her. “Do you want to look with us, Uncle Koda?” She wanted to make sure everyone felt included. <@351852811883118594>
“I don’t have anything else planned, so why not?” Koda shrugged, “Means I can stick around to surprise your mom.”
“Appreciate it, thank you,” Matcha said, trying to be as respectful as she could.
Matcha chuckled. She could understand the frustration, she felt the same when trying to speak any language other than basic. “Take your time,” she said, trying to assure Dusa that all was right. “I’m fueling up my ship and just taking a moment to rest. Been having some fun exploring planets around these parts. Definitely been spending too much time on Nar Shaddaa,” she admitted. “And you’re here waiting for your friend to finish up with their job,” <@216702440140046336>
“You are?” She asked, pretty surprised. From what she had learned, Selen was a little off the beaten path so to find an individual in a random fueling station out on the outer rim that was going to the same place seemed almost suspicious. At least it would if she wasn’t so distracted. “That’s great!” She said, a little too enthusiastically.
“I’ve never been to Corellia. I’ve never been to many places actually,” the Firrerreo admitted. In all actuality, this was one of the first times she had traveled out into space and she was loving her experience so far.
Lektra had been so caught up in Sebastian that she hadn’t even realized Ira had approached them both, something she’d certainly be kicking herself for later. Her head turned to the bartender and she smiled awkwardly, a slight silver blush appearing on her cheeks as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t be. “Yes, hello, welcome to you too,” she stammered. Remembering what they were there for, she quickly spouted out her order, “I’d like some cider, please.” <@315438760428961793>
Sebastian was surprised by her enthusiasm. He didn’t think all that much of the new planet or maybe she was eager to make friends. The answer was beyond him but he didn’t mind her zeal. He smiled and nodded.
The man nodded to the bartender as she approached. His silence allowed Lektra to order. The way she ordered made him want to laugh but he turned his head briefly into the arm of his jacket to wipe his smile away.
“I’ll, uh, have some cider too.” Ordering like a novice may get both of them carded, but he didn’t mind. Maybe she had not gone out much so ordering was foreign to her.
The human fished out some credits and his ID, pushing both over to the bartender. “It’ll all be on me.”
“Nar Shaddaa! Man, my friends told me to never go there again-” Dusa grumbled as she leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms.
“I wasn’t that bad! Honest! Sure I got us in a smidge of a trouble but it all ended up just fine.” She grinned, her sharp canines revealing before nodding.
“Yep! He has some delivery to do nearby, might be couple of hours. I don’t know where we are going next. Maybe find some more odd n ends jobs.”
“That would be wonderful, Sir,” Rue commented gladly, his tail swishing. He turned and began resuming their way through the aisles and sections of toys, waiting for Sulla to see something else she liked. He made sure to himself look for things like coloring tools, or the snow, or noodles. Lektra was soothed thanks to the healing to her rupturing gums he kept providing, and seemed to be dozing against his chest. He hummed lightly.
<@301514304845381632>
Ira’s skeptical look remained on Lektra, especially when she blushed silver, a tell that the bartender knew intimately well. The boy pushing his ident over gave her a cue though, and she took it with a glance, leaving the credits on the bartop; his wallet hadn’t looked thick.
“Alright, Seb,” she replied, handing him back his ID, and then looked to his ladyfriend expectantly. “And yours, sweetheart?”
<@301514304845381632>
Thrissa was already annoyed from the long trip she had just made, but now seeing the ship had low fuel her annoyance rose to a new level. She searched for the nearest rest stop in the Navicomputer. It had led her here to The Shame Corner.
She walked into the establishment pulling her hood down to show her incredibly beautiful face. She was hungry so she began to peruse the food area. Her social skills were not always the best, in fact with her demeanor some people avoided her. It wasn’t always the worst idea, but she was trying to change her interactions with others.
“Welcome in,” called an employee behind the counter of a circular counter, the banner overhead declaring it to sell many varieties of fudge. They were green head to toe, hair and skin and eyes, and smiled kindly. “Let us know if you need anything! Refreshers are that way!”
He pointed over to bathrooms declaring themselves the cleanest on the Hydian Way. It was, after all, usually most customers’ first stop.
Thrissa nodded at the overly enthusiastic employee at least in her opinion. She turned her head looking at the person. “Any Chiss Snacks?” She asked in a very smooth yet somewhat rough voice.
She was craving something sweet, but she also had been wanting some Chiss delicacies.
While Lillian and Minnow spoke, Bril kept his focus on his left vambrace’s display. Just as he’d hoped, the footage that Ira and Avalon pulled for him showed Jedwen accessing the station’s security deposit boxes.
“Just what I was hoping to find,” he said aloud while snapping his fingers. Now, all he needed to do was see what was inside it. After spotting Avalon again, Bril raised his hand to catch her attention, then gestured for her to come over to him.
<@244244163002892288>
“Chiss, huh?” the man pondered. “Hmmm…I think this one of the jams is sourced from Csilla. You can check there, there are many variety.” He pointed over towards some shelves down one way. “You could grab some and some other snacks. Or there’s the bar, I know Ira knows how to make the Chiss drinks.”
Minnie glanced over at her Zabrak’s exclamation, smiling, but seeing as be was signalling the other woman, decided to just listen for now. She patted Lilian’s hand on the bar lightly, not wanting to touch somewhere else that could be more bothersome. “There, there, alor. We can’t win ‘em all. Say, have you ever tried boba?”
Meanwhile, Avalon, having been deep in her cup of tea and a book on her pad at this point, noted Bril waving at her. She closed her screen and stood up, leaving the cup for Ira.
“Found what you were looking for, Envoy Arga?” she asked.
“I have. Thank you,” he replied, turning the datapad so she could see the Duros he’d mentioned earlier taking something out of his safety deposit box. And after she saw it, Bril made sure she saw him delete the footage from his vambrace’s storage. Before he continued on the subject, Bril turned his head to Minnow and touched an affectionate hand to her shoulder.
“This is Minnow, my girlfriend,” he said, “Minnow, this is Avalon. She’s been very kind and more than helpful in my investigation.”
Minnie regarded the Echani, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, ma'am.”
“You too, Minnow. Are you in the Envoys too? We don’t know all the line members on sight, sorry.”
The tiny Nautolan shook her head. “I am Mandalorian, of Clan Erinos. I’m just looking out for this kitty cat,” she nudged Bril back with a grin.
“I understand that.” Avalon’s pale features crinkled in an ageless yet long-suffering fondness. She looked back to Bril. “So he was here. What now?”
Bril tilted his head while looking at Avalon. He could sense that she was Force-sensitive, but not to what extent. Still, that explained why she seemed so … youthful.
“I’m afraid that this may be straining your generosity but … if I can have access to his lockbox, that would help me greatly,” he replied. But Bril knew what he was asking of her, and offered up another caveat that would hopefully assuage any concerns that his request might spark in the Echani’s mind. “I won’t take anything. And you can watch me do it.”
Another feeling drifted through the Force and into his mind. Power. More power than he’d ever felt in his life. Stronger even than his own masters, all of his masters, current and past. There was something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, lying just beyond his ability to grasp. He found himself staring, unable to pull his attention away from this veritable titan in the Force.
What the hell was someone so powerful doing here?
Thrissa acknowledged and went to the shelves seeing the jam the attendant was speaking of. She hadn’t tasted it for many years so she snatched it up and some bread.
She looked over at the attendant “Thanks for the recommendation, though I’m not sure that I should be drinking and flying. I don’t think it would be looked at as a favorable action.”
She walked to the counter with the fudge and eyed it. She had never had fudge, but she had been trying to branch out in how she ate. “Which one would you recommend?” She said as she gestured to the fudge at the counter.
Seafoam eyes squinted slightly, Minnie watching her boyfriend just stare at Avalon. What was that about?
…not that she wasn’t really pretty…
…and he did have a thing for older women technically.
Ugh, no, shuddup.
It was silly to feel a bit jealous, given all they’d been through, and that she could recognize the look on Bril’s face as a different kind of wonder, the same sort when he’d spoken of his ancestors after Kasiya…but hey, feelings were feelings and they were bitches sometimes.
Still…the Nautolan looked a little more closely, certain the woman was special, just not how.
“No trouble to us,” Avalon was saying, waving a pale hand. “The cameras can watch you do it, I don’t need to be over your shoulder. Just follow me.” She paused, looking at Lilian. “Is she part of your team too, Arga?”
Bril pulled his gaze away from Avalon once she addressed him in regard to Lillian.
“I guess she is, now,” he said while looking at Lillian expectantly. “You did mention wanting more exciting work since your move, right? Now could be the time.”
<@264959101384130560> He turned back to Avalon. “There’s just one thing. You’re a Force user. And more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met before. Stronger than my masters, even … Who are you, really?”
The zabrak instinctually – subtly – wrapped his arm around Minnie and pulled her into his side so that he was partially blocking her from the woman’s path. Although he couldn’t sense any negative intentions from her, he knew that anyone this strong likely would have no issue hiding their true motivations even from him.
The gesture was sweet, and made sense once Bril commented about this Avalon’s strength. He knew about her scars. Nevertheless, Minnie wasn’t about to let her Zabrak shield her all on his own. If he was spooked, well then.
She used one finger to tag the safety off of her right bracer, keeping a pleasant expression towards the Echani.
But Avalon only tilted her head and smiled ever so slightly, peering at and through them both with her silvery gaze.
“Your senses are quite sharp, young Arga. It takes a rare kind to see through my weave. Worry not. We mean you no harm. As for who, I’ve already told you.” She tapped her name tag. “I’m Avalon. And frankly, that should be enough for you. If there’s one thing that will strain my generosity, it’s bothering anyone here more than they want to tell. This is the Shame Corner, young adept. My sisters and I made this place for a reason, and everyone who’s all come to call this place home is here for a reason. I’d encourage you to consider next time if that’s a rude question to be asking.”
Bril couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride when Avalon commended him for seeing through her ruse, but that didn’t last. He regarded her for a bit longer, trying to get a bead on what it was she was feeling, but gleaning what information he had learned was hard enough; learning more would take more effort and intrusion than he was willing to employ.
“My apologies. I wasn’t trying to be rude, just … I meant what are you doing here? I get the sense that you’re not a Sith, at least. With your power, you could be doing so much to help people in the galaxy. So, why …?”
He sighed, unsure of what it was he was trying to ask, or how to do so without seeming rude or downplaying the value of the Shame Corner.
Before Avalon could respond, Minnie spoke up, leaning suddenly forward around him, deactivating the gauntlet she’d triggered. “Heeey, excuse us just a sec, sorry.”
She tugged on Bril’s arm, nudging him lightly back a few steps and angling away to speak lowly.
“Kitty, baby, I love you, I know you’re feeling a lot right now, but that’s not Okie to be asking either, yanno?” She gave him a firm look, sympathetic but nonetheless warning. “Foxxie is probably one of the best fighters in the fraking Galaxy, but you wouldn’t ask him why he’s not out there helping people or on the front lines or taking every mission and o'sik, would you? And why wouldn’t you?”
Leena shrugged at the clone. She was sure that there was a bar, but hadn’t tried it yet. She had been in the Corner only during Caf hours. “No idea if it’s any good or not… but guessing…” She gestured around at everything that they could see. There was a very ‘working class’ sort of vibe to the place, and in her experience, working folks took their intoxicants seriously.
The sounds of treads reached her ear cones as she moved, her eyes inadvertantly checking to see where Beater was so that she didn’t run into him as he circled her. Hekate crossed their arms, looking across the sales floor, taking in the rows of merchandise as they scanned the outer edges looking for the bar. “It might be a good time for a drink.” Their tripartite voice resonated for a moment as they moved forward.
Leena considered for a moment the reaction of some of those beverages might have with the systems, then decided that shots would probably actually clean the upper parts of the system. “Okay, I’ll buy you a shot. Clear liquors only, though. I don’t want a repeat of last time.”
“I don’t remember ever having liquor before.” Hekate’s optical sensors tilted, the light dimming for a half moment.
“See?” Leena reached out and rested a hand on their shoulder, the swirls of black ink and metallic cicuitry just beneath her violet skin prominent in the flourescent light. “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t drink other stuff…”
Doc laughed. He nodded in the direction of the neon signs for the bar as the laughter dulled into chuckles andd they made their way toward it. Beater spun in place, then followed behind before passing them, chirping a dense line of binary that some would mistake for hopeful. Leena’s eyebrow went up, tilting her head down to look at him. “No, I’m not sure that they’ll have the matrices I was hoping for. It’s not like I can just order them up, you know.”
The droid’s tone shifted, more gutteral than musical, then drifted back into hopeful. Leena blinked at the conversation. “Hey, if I could just get a four thousand year old processing matrix from the holonet, it would have been installed in you already.” The droid bent a tone downward, the disappointment obvious before it made an abrasive sound, like sandpaper and broken glass across a steel barrel.
“No need to get nasty.” Hekate chided the droid. “She’s already said that she’s trying.” Hekate scoffed for a moment, then snarked off a line. “Droids…” Beater’s voice scrambled out a line of chirps and beeps that almost sounded like profanity on it’s own.
“No clue really, but I always imagine that all that little guy do is swear and blow things up.” Doc kept moving as he chuckled, eyes drifting across a rack of some sort of dried meat. Seemed exotic sounding, some sort of creature from Naboo, maybe?
Beater whistled, then growled in a sort of aggressive agreement. Leena shook her head, one of her lekku slipping back off of her shoulder. “You’re not entirely wrong.” The words slipped out more quickly than she expected, and she brought it to a glottal stop and a gulp. The astromech stopped, the dome spinning completely around so that it’s radar eye was directly pointed at her, silently accusing her. She corrected herself quickly, soothing the droid. “But I’m trying to get you back to where you can do more again, buddy. You know that.”
A few feet away, the opening lay, the lights dimmer in there, the quiet clink of glassware and music pouring out. Doc smirked at Leena for a second, stroking his grey-streaked beard. “Think they’ll have Whyren’s?” He asked before taking a step inside.
“I’d be mighty surprised if they don’t.” Leena followed him in, letting her purple eyes adjust to the dark and seeing who else was there to enjoy a drink or three. The contact was supposed to meet them somewhere in the Corner, but they weren’t terrifyingly specific as to where in the Corner it would be. Missing details like that made her lekku itch, but she only had herself to blame. Excited to make contact, she forgot entirely to ask. And now, when it mattered, is when she remembered. She found a spot with a few barstools open, slipping into the middle one with a sigh.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear the bartender when she slid over. She barely looked up, responding on autopilot as she gestured to her companions an putting a few creds on the bar. “Not too bad. Can I get a double of whyren’s for me, one for the good doctor, and a single of triple distilled white lightning for the Krath please?”
Matcha put her elbows onto the tabletop and rested her chin in her hands as she listened to Dusa’s short stories. As much as she wanted to inquire about her future plans, she wanted to know more about this trip to Nar Shaddaa. Besides, it sounded as if they had a few hours to chat yet.
“C’mon, you can’t leave me hanging like that. What did you get up to on Nar Shaddaa that got you in enough trouble your friends banned you from heading back?
The young Twi’lek held onto Koda’s auburn hair for support as they walked through the aisles. She diligently scanned each shelf for anything she might want. Plushies were at the beginning of the aisle, and the further they got from the potential soft friends, the sadder she got. Sulla tugged on Koda’s hair. “Go back to the start. There were big soft friends, and I wanna see them again.” <@351852811883118594>
Lektra looked at the chips that Sebastian slid across the counter towards the woman behind the bar. The credits she recognized, but the id chip was something she had never seen before. The Firrerreo considered what it could be for a moment before Ira spoke to her once again, asking for something from her. Thinking she meant credits, she reached into her pocket and fumbled around for a moment before pulling out a relatively similar amount to what Sebastian had offered. “Here you go,” she said, gaining some confidence back. <@315438760428961793>
Rue obediently did an about-face and moved back towards the plushies, though he made certain to never outpace Koda, always staying just in the man’s shadow, quiet and secondary.
“They are very nice and soft.”
“Super soft!” Sulla exclaimed, excitement overwhelming her once again as she thought of the plushies. Sure, she had a ringtail at home already (his name was Robert), but she desperately wanted another one. Robert needed a friend after all!
Ira eyed the credits, then eyed the girl.
(She also eyed the Zabrak getting all invasive at Avalon over the kids’ shoulders, but Avy hadn’t signalled her anything about knocking his block off yet, and that cute two-bite snack Nautolan babe had grabbed him, so that was pending judgement for now.)
Red eyes locked on the baby Fierrero’s green ones.
“Your ident, kiddo,” she prompted, deciding to be nice about it. “So I can see you’re old enough to drink here. Don’t worry about cred. Everything here is pay what you want ‘cept the lotto.”
“Gah! Don’t pull my hair, Little Miss, I’m not a mech suit.” Koda chuckled and walked his way back to the start of the aisle to the plushies, “One of these catching your eye?”
Bril folded his arms in front of his chest while listening to his Nautolan. He knew she was right, of course, and that much showed in his nodding, but he still wore a disgruntled expression while listening to her.
“I hear you, pur'ka, I hear you. But do you know what I would do if I was as powerful as she was? The difference I could make?
I know the Force leads people down different paths and that there are ways to make a positive change in people’s lives other than fighting, but … I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to her.”
“And,” Minnie emphasized, “that regardless of what the Force says or what good somebody could do, you never know what someone else has been through, and it’s their choice how they spend their lives. We respect choices.” She sounded like she was quoting someone there, and Bril knew without any doubt it was her brother. “Yanno, except when they’re hurtin’ somebody, then we stop ‘em. But that’s our choice too.”
Reaching up on her toes, she cupped his cheek, just holding there a moment before giving a pat as her expression softened from its more severe lean.
“You already make so much of a difference, Kitty. You’re amazing, and I love you, but don’t go projecting like, how you think you could be doing more and get all hard on yourself constantly asking for more from yourself and all that on to other people, okie? An apology is proooobs a good place to start.”
Alex set his empty glass down on the bar once again and slid it toward the back. One last cursory glance about - some new arrivals but nothing that piqued his interest heavily - and he decided to take a look at the bulletin board that had been mentioned. If he were lucky, there was maybe an easy job or two he could take to shake the rust off. Something that would utilize his skills as an experienced bounty hunter, albeit one who had mostly been a docent for a dead museum for decades now.
He slowly pulled himself off the barstool and approached the board, scanning through the postings. So far nothing seemed quite in line with his expertise, but there were an awful lot to go through so maybe he’d find something if he just kept looking.
“I don’t…” Lektra thought for a moment, trying to remember what an ident was. But then it came to her. “Is that the thing that tells people who they are? I don’t have one of those.”
Something Ira would notice was that Lektra was extremely relieved to learn she didn’t have to pay. Money was tight for the young woman, both because of her low paying job and because of her inability to budget her funds properly.
Indeed the bartender noticed, and between the desperate look about money and the lack of ident – or allegedly knowledge of it – made her all the more skeptical, if more sympathetic, to some degree.
She leaned forward, pointing between the two of them and then down at her bar.
“Listen, you two. If you’re mixed up in something or just can’t stay at home, I get that. I do. And I get maybe wanting to just have something for once. Like a cider.” Her bright red eyes gave a significant look, taking the pair apart, from Sebastian’s cheap and well worn clothing and thinner cheeks to his calloused hands and Lektra’s general demeanor. “So I’ll give you one cider. But here’s the deal. You gotta go over to the Griddle and get some hot food with it. Sit down. Tell them I sent you over and ask for Raymond. And then when you’ve eaten you talk to him a bit. Maybe whatever’s going on can be helped. Maybe it can’t. But it’s something.”
She leaned back then, crossing muscular arms, making her ink ripple and yawn beastial mouths.
“Take it or leave it. But if not, you and your boyfriend can take your asses back out of my bar and get some juice instead. I ain’t serve minors.” A pause and a shrug. “Or anybody else j don’t want to.”
Behind the pair, Avalon crinkled her eyes at Ira. Red rolled right back.
The figure tipped their head, then smiled at her as she came closer.
“Oh, my favorite’s the CCChonkers.” He pointed at one section, walking over to show her – it was a large circular counter. The squares in question were thick, layers of chocolate cemented with slabs of bacon and potato chips, dusted with rock salt and caramel on top. “Some folks don’t like the idea but it’s so good.” He peered at her. “If it’s your first try though, I always like to the recommend classic. Have to judge based on that.”
The Star Courier Nocte Drakon docked smoothly within the port, once the engines had been shut down, the ramp lowered allowing the occupants inside to exit. A sleek vornskr exited first, sniffing around and inspecting the area around the ramp, as if checking to be sure everything was secure, before coming back and waiting patiently at the bottom of the ramp.
“Come on Hiri, you need to relax every once in a while,” a rather tall muscular Togruta male walked down the ramp backwards. The man turned on his heel at the end of the ramp, nearly loosing his footing as the sudden change from the incline of the ramp to the horizontal durasteel floor of the station. “Whoa!” He was suddenly stopped mid air from smashing his face into the floor, as he was lifted slightly and set gently back onto his feet.
“I know, I know Ro,” another Togruta, this time a petite female, wearing a small tank top with a light short jacket, tight low riding pants, and thick high heeled sandals, walked gracefully down the ramp. Her hand made subtle gestures, before returning to the data pad she had been reading the entire time. “Will you at least watch where you’re going, please? Don’t need to arrive here with more wounds than what we already have.” She chuckled, before finally glancing up.
“Wait, are you really going in here wearing that?” raising an crimson eyebrow, she looked the man up and down, crossing her arms. The slightly loose fitting cropped shirt Ro was wearing, showing his muscular body way more than expected. That paired with the low riding pants, made him look somewhere between a teenager trying to look cool, and a man who wanted to look half his age.
“Huh?” Ro looked down and then rolled his eyes, before smiling. “What’s wrong with way I’m dressed? I look cool.”
“Alright fine,” the woman just shook her head, smiling. “Just don’t look at me when someone asks where the rest of your clothes are, or if they refuse service cause you’re not fully dressed.” Turning, she didn’t wait for the man to respond, and began to walk towards the receiving area. “Come on, let’s see what’s so great about this place you’ve been begging me to go with you to, for last seasonal rotation (~3 or 4 months).”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way I’m dressed,” Ro-Tahn sarcastically spun in a circle and posed, before realizing that she wasn’t even there. “Hey, Tahiri! Wait up would ya,” quickly catching up to his sister.
Hadzuska simply huffed at the interaction between his Alpha and her brother. He intently looked and listened to everything as they headed into the station.
“So what’d yah like to do first, Hiri?”
“I’m thinking of finding the bar first. I haven’t been able to enjoy a decent drink in awhile.”
“To the bar it is. First rounds on me.”
“You better buy the first round. You’re the one who dragged me here.” The sibling shared a laugh as they continued further into the station.
At first, he thought she was joking handing the bartender credits instead of her ID. It took the might of the Maker to prevent the young man from laughing at the situation. She was not joking and seemed sincerely confused. Unfortunately, a snort did manage to escape. He did his best to cover it by clearing his throat.
The scrutiny from the bartender made him uncomfortable. Her assessment of their situation was almost completely incorrect. Nothing unusual was going on. His home was fine. He wasn’t a minor and from the looks of it, neither was Lektra. Well, she did look young but of age. Maybe he wasn’t the best judge of age. That could land him in some hot water if he wasn’t careful. On top of that, she wasn’t his girlfriend either but that could change.
“I-uh- yes ma’am,” was all Sebastian managed to say to Ira, his nerves getting the better of him. Maybe if he had more confidence he could prepare a rebuttal or defense, but now, he was intimidated by her demeanor and words. “I’ll take the cider and we’ll get outta your hair.”
<@301514304845381632>
“Oh now hold up!” Dusa protested, “They said I cheated in Pazaak! I didn’t! Do ya even know how hard it is to cheat in that game anyways? It’s all luck. I don’t know why they accused me of it…” Dusa grumbled, wishing she had water or something to take a sip.
“So they chased me off of casinos, and any of buildings that has Pazaak would check my code and I’m not allowed in so… which… is … like all of the buildings. It’s a bunch of dirty oil anyways.”
When her hand moved to his cheek, he placed his own hand on top of it. “I love you too,” he began, offering her a smile. “And you’re right. Choices matter.”
He pulled her hand away to entwine his fingers with hers, then stepped aside and gestured to the bar. “Ready to go back?”
“You bet,” Minnie said, squeezing his hand in support. She made a mental note to bring it back up later. They’d need a longer talk. Maybe she’d ask Foxxie or Jax about it too? The idea of the former though immediately lodged a defensive bullet in her gut. So maybe not.
Her smile was small as the couple walked those steps back over, aiming to be nice but conscious of the situation and properly serious.
“Sorry about that, ma'am,” she said to Avalon, who waited watching their brief discourse as more arrived towards the bar.
Sulla pointed to the largest of the bunch of plushies “That one!” She said with excitement, noticing once again the ringtail she had held earlier. <@351852811883118594>
“Then let us get that one!” Rue chirped, and then considered how best to approach carrying it. He couldn’t lift Sulla up for very long yet at all…but while the plushie was roughly her size, surely it would be lighter. She was a wonderfully perfectly healthy almost seven years old and had the according mass.
Hugging it to his chest would not work at all. Lektra was there. Dragging it perhaps?
But there was Sir Koda.
He looked to the much bulkier man.
Lektra couldn’t help but tilt her head in confusion. She wasn’t mixed up in anything, at least not to her own knowledge, and her apartment back on Selen was safe to visit whenever she felt like it. In all actuality, she had never been safer in her whole life. Though the Firrerreo couldn’t say she’s ever felt comfortable since she left her old home- wait, did she say boyfriend? The silver that had made a temporary home on Lektra’s cheeks deepened thanks to Ira’s comment. She looked at Sebastian and then back to Ira and then back and back again.
She opened her mouth to say something, but Sebastian beat her to it, probably for the best. Whatever she would’ve said would’ve come out as a stammered mess. So she just nodded at the man’s words and echoed his words, “I’ll take the cider, too. Then the Griddle.”
<@244244163002892288>
“You’ve got big eyes.” Koda picked up the plushie and handed it to her, “Just that one, alright?”
“Must’ve been winning pretty big then, huh?” Matcha asked. Getting kicked out of one casino was one thing, but getting kicked out of all of them wasn’t something that just happened, at least to her knowledge. “Me personally, I don’t go to casinos. Usually, I go to Nar Shaddaa for the parties. No matter where you go, you’re bound to find somewhere with music and spice.” The Mirialan held a tight lipped smile, doing her best to appear at least satisfied with her current life choices.
Thrissa stopped for a minute and looked at the figure. The whole premise of such a dessert did not sound delightful to her at all. Then she hadn’t ever been one to try new things.
“I have never had or heard of anything like this though I’ve been told I need to try new things…I suppose I will take a piece to try. I’ve had regular fudge, but nothing like this one.”
She looked around it wasn’t often she even came into establishments in general she usually kept to herself and away from people. Then some people avoided her because of who she was.
Once they returned to the section of the bar where Avalon stood, Bril straightened his posture a bit in the hopes of projecting a more dignified air.
“I’m sorry for that I said to you,” he began, taking a moment to consider his words. “…You’re free to live your life however you want to live it. It wasn’t my place to question why you aren’t living it in a similar way to how I live mine.”
“Sir, ah,” fearing Sulla would fall or drop the plush, he spoke up suddenly despite every instinct saying it would bring pain if he did, “p-perhaps you should carry it? So she can sit up there?”
“Nah, she’ll be fine. My chestpiece is more than enough for her to sit safely…ish. Beside, we Kendis’s have hard heads. We’ve all hit ours a few times. I can also hold onto her legs.” Koda leaned his head up a little more towards Sulla, “You’ll keep balanced, yeah?” <@301514304845381632>
The bartender flicked her wrist, sliding a trio of coasters down on the bar to stop in front of the three as though she was dealing Sabaacc. She moved with an economy of motion born from a million iterations, maybe more, as her hands shuttled glasses of ice beneath her bottles, the quick measure of time delivering the proper measure of spirits before she set the glasses in front of them. Scoopingup the creds, she smiled, more out of rote than much else, although she was curious if the skinny looking ‘Krath’ was going to sit there and stare at the glass or take their droid looking helmet off and actually enjoy it.
Leena lifted her glass, smiling back with a short nod and a low “Thanks.” as she angled herself to seem more natural while taking in the rest of the bar. She cleared her throat, tapping the bottom of the glass as a gesture of respect to the tender before raising it again, watching Doc. She knew his rituals well.
Doc mirrored her actions, but held the glass raised for a moment longer. What little light filtered through the bar shone through the glass, cleaner than he’d expected it to be as a welcome surprise, and the amber spirit. “To my brothers.” Doc paused, letting the thought settle into his mind.
Hekate tried to emulate, but missed the tapping of the glass on the bar. Optical sensors flickered for a second, waiting until Doc and Leena took a sip before raising it to their face, carefully pouring the clear liquid down the small aperture that opened with a quiet metallic creak. Sensors twisted inside, relaying information about the input as the solvent washed away detritus from the tube. Doc watched them as they set the glass back down, curiosity painted across his face. “What?” Hekate’s tripled voice asked, meeting his gaze.
“I half expected you to belch fire, honestly.” He chuckled. “So what do you think?”
“It’s interesting.” Hekate spun the glass around on the coaster, idly looking at it, then turning their head to Doc again. “But why would I belch fire?”
Doc shook his head slowly. “It’s just a joke about how it would burn our throats. It’s flammable, after all…”
“It’s what?”
Leena raised an eyebrow subtly as the human moved past them, toward a bulletin board she hadn’t noticed until… well, now. He wore a pretty distinct set of armor, and the Twi'lek’s mind raced to place it. The helmet bore the distinct T-visor of the Mandalorians, but the matte black cuirass was segmented into interconnected bands. She wanted to take a better look, to see if it was like the Dragon-Skin armor that they had tested in the Nephilim, but didn’t want to make it obvious. Was her contact a mando? She wasn’t sure, it hadn’t come up.
“Dank ferrik.” Leena muttered under her breath, then considered. The name that her contact gave was Eris. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was their real name, or a fake one at first. She had started to dig, when she came to the conclusion that it was probably in poor form to do so. It wasn’t like they would have set up an ambush here of all places. She looked back at the Mandalorian, letting the name slip out of her mouth plainly, watching to see if he reacted at all.
“Eris.”
<@102435651189743616> <@185939710005215232>
Alex could feel the eyes on him. It wasn’t something he was unused to by any means - in a galaxy peppered with Mandalorians, his armor would stand out to anyone even passingly familiar as being “not quite the same” - but this was the first time since he had arrived at The Shame Corner that it felt like someone was actively paying attention to him, rather than just taking him in as part of the general background.
He continued to scan the bulletin board for a moment, waiting to see if his observer was going to take any overt action, and when nothing was forthcoming he subtly looked over his shoulder to see if he could spot anything. A few newcomers had made their way in while he had been distracted by the board, but it still took him a little bit to pick out where the interest was coming from. A twi’lek at the bar, accompanied by a well-armored human and a - no, it was drinking moonshine, there’s no way that could be a droid, right? - another companion was looking his way and spoke a word.
“Eris.”
It held no particular meaning to Alex, but seemed like it was of some import to the speaker. He approached, taking his helmet off the storage hook on his armor and setting it on the bar.
“I am afraid I am likely not who you are looking for, but more than happy to do what I can to help you find them. My name is Alex Draconis,” he held out one gauntleted hand, “and I am - well, not exactly new around these parts, but shall we say returning after an immensely extended absence.”
Busted.
“I- Okay- Maaaaybe I cheated a smidge, but come on! It’s not like they are going to miss the credits. Sheesh.” Dusa grumbled, hoping the food would get here quick.
“Oooh! Parties! I LOVE THOSE! Music?! Spice- Hold up.” She leaned forward, “You don’t do them shady things do you?”
Eris Okami looked up from her drink at the sound of her name from the other side of the bar. Her mind had been wandering about ways she could maximize shield output on her ship. She pushed the stool back and walked toward where she heard the voice. The Okami Mandalorian came upon another introducing himself to what appeared to be her contact. She waited for a natural pause in the introductions.
“Leena?”
If he’d had hand*s*, plural, to wring, Rue would have been wringing them. As it was, he shrunk back in a stoop at Koda’s dismissal, and just gnawed on one knuckle, tail flicking fretfully, eyes fixed on Sulla and mindful of Lektra tucked to his chest.
The employee gave a delighted smile. “Great! Be brave, right? That good. Here, I get you some. You don’t like, you can come back and get something else before you leave, okay?”
The green man packed up her CCChonk square, which was actually fairly hefty for a little box with tissue paper and a tailring smiling on the front, and handed it to her.
“Anything else I can help with, ma'am?”
Ira eyed the pair, the stumble and the big blush, and wondered if she’d missed her mark. Maybe in the details. But something was obviously off here.
Ugh.
She blew out a sigh, rolling red eyes, and grabbed two of the sweetest ciders they had out of her fridge before popping the caps and setting them in front of the kids on coasters.
“Forget it. Just stay where I can see you. And no liquor.”
Then she pushed their creds back at them and went off to check on all her other patrons, of which there were many. She collected the glass Alex had left, served the Twi'lek, her doctor, and the droid – maybe the same pair Ray had been on about? – and made sure Eris’ drink was at a decent level. That done, she slid back over towards Reiden until someone else had an order, as it looked like more were on their way in.
“How’s it going?”
<@232396983854301187> <@315438760428961793>
Avalon’s pale features just crinkled in her mild little smile, barely a quirk of lips or movement of brows, the smallest creases near her soft, wide silver eyes.
“I know I am, and no, it wasn’t your place or appropriate. But I accept your apology.” She gestured behind them towards the exit. “Now, if you want to continue your investigation?”
A hand found its place on the back of Bril’s neck as he listened to Avalon. Her insistence on reiterating what he’d already stated was … grating at the very least, reminding him of times when he was scolded as a child for some misbehaving. He stared tight-lipped for a moment, only to nod.
“Yeah. I would like to see that safety deposit box if you don’t mind,” he intoned, voice notably flatter than when he spoke prior to the break in their conversation. “I’d like to see what I can find.”
He shifted his gaze to Minnie, then to Lillian. “You can stay here with her if you’d like, pur'ka. I won’t be long.”
“Well, I must be even better than I thought myself to be. My mere presence has brought the one you were looking for to you,” Alex laughed from deep in his chest as he moved a bit off to the side.
“I will let you get down to whatever business you came here seeking to perform, though I daresay I shall not wander too far off since you seem to have some curiosity about me as well and I am more than happy to indulge that when you are concluded.”
Alex leaned one arm atop his helmet on the bar and pulled out the datapad he had been looking at earlier, thumbing through it while he waited. <@284848346672136192> <@185939710005215232>
Minnie seemed to be weighing it, looking between Bril and Avalon. She gave him a pleading look at his tone, squeezing his hand one more time. Be good, it seemed to ask. “Sure, I can hang back. You know I’ll be right there if you need me, Kitty.”
He squeezed her hand in kind and smiled. “I know. Be back soon.”
And then he turned to Avalon, gesturing for her to lead the way.
Reiden was lost in his thoughts, thinking back to that asteroid he was on, when he had first met Bril and Evelyn. The experience was certainly a unique one, even if something he was not eager to duplicate. Unfortunately, his curiosity had gotten the better of him, which led to his trip to this end of the galaxy, checking out something similar. He hadn’t been able to glean any additional information - at least, nothing he understood. It was all over his head. But his curiosity was satisfied…for the moment.
Hearing Ira’s words brought him back to the present. He offered the bartender a small smile. “Everything is all good here, thanks. Although if I could have another glass of whiskey, that would be greatly appreciated.”
“Hmm, well this place is certainly… different,” Tahiri looked around after reading the rules.
“Yeah, I heard about it through the Envoy channels. It seemed interesting, and thought it would do you some good to loosen up a bit,” his cheerful demeanor become solemn for a brief moment. “Especially since I know how hard you work.”
Chuckling, the petite Togruta glanced up at her brother, “I know, and I appreciate this Ro. Ever since the war with the Children, things have been on edge, and just feeling safe or comfortable anywhere has been difficult for me.” She looked down at her data pad for a moment, sighing before looking up at and flashing him her oh so familiar smile, “So thank you, even though you can be a pest about things.”
Ro smiled back, though he hid the fact that he had been worried about her for some time. She’d always been there for him, even making sure to check on him and offer words of advice or counsel when he had taken her leadership position within the tribe, before he decided that the tribe life wasn’t for him either. “Of course sa'mahr (sister), and I know. Things will get better. Now let’s explore this place and find the bar.”
Looking around, he spotted the sign for the bar, before turning back to Tahiri, whom he found looking curiously at some sort of animal plushies. Coming up behind her, he chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be into those things?”
“Hmm, no I’m not. But I’ve noticed that Zuska has been intently looking around and I spotted a creature that looks similar to these plushies. In fact it looks like there’s quite a bit of merchandise that looks like them.”
“Oh? And what are these creatures?” Ro’s teasing tone increased, as he nudged her shoulder.
“I believe they’re called Ringtails, they’re kinda like Krayt dragons, just much smaller, and they have wings. I’ve actually never seen a living one, only read about them.”
“Ah. Figured you’d know something about them.” Ro laughed, before looking at the more life-like looking keytags. “It’s a wonder you don’t have one yet. I swear, Tahiri, if you had enough space, you’d probably have at least one of every single creature in the universe with you. Also don’t you have a tattoo that looks like this?”
“Haha very funny Ro,” rolling her eyes, Tahiri put the plushie back on the shelf, before looking at her brother. “And no. You should know our tribes heraldry. Although that’s not a half bad idea for a new tattoo.”
“Right, right,” he knew it was one of the ways she had honored the tribe. “Oh, so the bar is over this way,” pointing in that direction.
“Alright let’s go, I could use a little something,” she took one last look at the plushie, before following her brother to bar, giving Zuska a pat on the head as he stayed close to her side. As they neared the bar, she felt a couple familiar presences, which made her smile.
<@1056685516441006091> <@244244163002892288>
Sebastian blinked, wide-eyed after hearing the station was operating not on the usual mode of currency. It was ‘pay what you want’ and although it was unconventional, he was grateful for it. He needed every credit he could preserve. The thoughts subsided when the bartender grabbed them ciders and issued them a stern warning.
“Y-yes, ma'am,” Sebastian said while gathering the credits he was willing to pay. It seemed she sensed his situation was less than ideal. Cider in hand, he turned to his friend who happened to be a girl. “Wanna just grab a table?” He gestured to the tables that were scattered throughout the bar, hoping to fulfill her request for lunch together.
<@301514304845381632>
“It’s Nat Shaddaa we’re talking about. Everyone misses their credits there. Probably one of the more dangerous places to be cheating in casinos.” She then shrugged. “But to each their own. It’s your life, you can decide how to throw it away.”
The Mirialan tried to act nonchalant about the whole situation but even though the woman was a stranger, Matcha couldn’t help but feel a mild amount of worry for the Pantoran.
When the pierced woman leaned forward to ask about spice, Matcha was rather taken aback. “You cheat in casinos and you’re worried about me doing spice?”
Sulla was completely oblivious to Rue’s worried demeanor, her vision completely obstructed by the plushie in her arms. “U-Uncle Koda… Are you sure about this? It’s pretty big, I don’t wanna fall again.”
<@351852811883118594>
“I’ve got you, kiddo. Trust me. You’ve got nothing to sorry about.” He said, mostly certain with that comment.
Pay what you want? That was something Lektra had never encountered in her few months on Selen. She wondered if it was a common practice for a short moment before pocketing the credits that has been pushed back to her.
When Ira left and returned with their ciders, Lektra stole a quick glance at Sebastian. It seemed he was just as confused which offered a small amount of solace to the Firrerreo.
She snatched the cider off the bartop and nodded ‘Yeah, it’ll be a little less crowded and easier to chat. Hopefully.“ <@315438760428961793>
Although he had already departed by the time Tahiri and Ro arrived at the bar. As much as he would’ve liked to turn around and greet his godmother with the same hug and cheerful smile he always did, he knew that he couldn’t … not yet at least. He had a duty to fulfill, so he ambled onward, maintaining a comfortable distance between himself and Avalon. Bril did, however, send a warm pulse through the Force for Tahiri to pick up on–a kind of mental pantomime mental to convey his joyful recognition of her presence.
Turning his attention back to Avalon, he watched her in silence as she walked, and made careful note of her mannerisms. He’d apologized for his unsolicited questions, sure, but that made him no less curious about this veritable titan in the Force.
“Since this is an Envoy-affiliated station, I bet you have other Envoys coming here on work fairly often, right?” he asked while they walked.
<@244244163002892288>
Leena’s brow went up at the quick back and forth, chuckling at the quip as she watched the black armored one step aside. A Mandalorian hunter wasn’t particularly unusual in brotherhood space. It had been decades since the Empire had laid waste to their system, scattering the survivors to the stars. The Brotherhood had steady work for them, and the secrecy to keep them off of the radar when they needed it. It was mutually beneficial. A few of her briefings had led her to believe that an entire clan of them had thrown their lot in with the Throne, and she had remembered thinking that there would be even more of them around as time marched by. Useful, for her purposes anyway. Sometimes it was better to keep things at an arm’s length, and professional help that would not give up the name of their employers…well, you could not really put a price on that.
The one with her name on her lips though… She was only half surprised to see her in armor as well. In contrast to the hunter’s matte black, this one wore sky blue and gold accents. Leena seemed to remember that the oldest traditions placed meaning behind the colors chosen, well beyond bloodline and political affiliation. She wondered for an idle moment what the colors meant to her contact before her mind clicked back into place. “That would be me…” She gave a half nod and smiled, her eyes drifting off to notice that she did not have a case with her. “Thanks for meeting me. This is Doc…” She gestured with her glass to the Clone at her side as he raised his glass in recognition, then to Hekate. “…Hekate, and Beater.” Leena let her free hand drape across the astromech’s dome casually as her right lekku slipped off of her shoulder with the movement.
Hekate’s optical sensors tilted, the violet light dimming for a moment as they bowed their head, the tripled voice sliding from her. “It’s always a pleasure to meet an expert.”
<@102435651189743616> <@185939710005215232>
The sounds of chirping birds filled the air around the “Shame Corner” as a uniquely colored and heavily modified N-1 Starfighter landed. Service droids marched up to the new ship and the cockpit opened, revealing a similarly colored set of Mandalorian Armor. Eevie was on the return from a mission and needed some serious refueling, and while she wasn’t in the most sociable mood, she was thirsty and wated a drink as well. The droids approached her, clicking and whirring as they questioned her on her starships needs.
“She hasn’t taken any damage, but definitely needs some refueling. If you could give her a thorough washin, that would be amazing.”
The droids responded in the affirmative, and while they couldn’t see her reaction, she smiled beneath her helmet. The Mandalorian pulled out a stack credit chits and tossed them their way.
“Thanks for the help you lot. Best droids in the galaxy, you are.”
Indignant noises could be heard from K-D9, her astromech droid, as it took slight offense to her proclamation. The other droids chippered away, thrilled to receive such glowing praise.
“Except for you, of course D9. You know there’s no one better than you.”
The droid nodded it’s small head cap in agreement before beginning some routine maintenance work itself. Eevie walked into the bar area of the establishment and paid little attention to those around her as she found a seat. The bartender approached her, inquiring about a drink.
“Nothing hard today, I’m gonna be flying. Some Povo-Punch please?”
As the bartender went to fetch her drink, Eevie removed her helmet, allowing her White/Pink locks to cascade down her face, framing her cheeks. Anyone looking could see the Sephi was tired. She’d been running herself hard, staying busy and building up her bank again. She’d need a vacation soon, but not just yet. Fun wasn’t really on her mind.
“Come on Eevie-girl. It’s time to stay serious. No worrying about nothin. Just keep flying forward.”
She spoke to herself as she stretched and cracked her neck, then picked up her newly delivered drink and took a big gulp of it. Maybe she could just relax for a bit afterall.
“Let us get to the diner then,” Rue whispered, glancing up and trying to see Sulla around the plushie. “Unless you want anything else?”
<@351852811883118594>
“Often, yes,” Avalon replied at ease. She smiled to customers as they passed, a slightly different smile to her employees. Occasionally she tapped her ear piece. “Though some we see more than others. Some we know by reputation alone.”
“Tahiri! Ro!” Minnie greeted as Bril headed off, standing from her stool next to Lilian to hug them. At least her Zabrak’s godmother was a reasonable karking height. “Hey! What are you guys doing here?” She swiveled back to the Momdalorian. “Ri-ri, Ro, this is alor Lilian Armis of Clan Armis. Lilian, this is Tahiri and Ro. She’s Bril’s godmother, he’s her brother.”
<@264959101384130560>
Bril didn’t respond. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because the presence of two other Force adepts demanded his attention. Just as powerful as Avalon, yet distinct in their immersion within the Light Side and Dark Side, respectively. His mind immediately went to Vidente and Ira. The three of them were closer than they were with the rest of the staff members, he’d noticed. And there was the fact that they were all co-founders and owners of the station. Avalon was guarded, defensive even, about her past; it wouldn’t surprise him if the others were, also.
His studies of the ancient and mysterious Celestials came to mind. The Father (the real one), Daughter, and Son of Mortis. Were these three powerful Force Adepts in a similar class of those three? The symbolism matched, but he had no frame of reference to judge their power in that regard. And without knowing more about her, he likely would never find out.
Unless he accessed Brotherhood files on personnel associated with the Envoy Corps. A project for later.
“Oh wow, an actual HK model,” Eris gasped to no one in particular as he train of thought completely derailed at the sight of a rare droid. She cocked her head to the side as she admired the custom detailing on Hecate’s optical sensors. Regaining her composure, the Devaronian gave a slight bow to the droid, “the pleasure is all mine Hecate.” Eris politely returned the greetings of the rest of Leena’s party with a closed fist across the breastplate and a slight head bow to each before getting down to business.
“I have the parts in the hanger bay, I can have Scotty—erm—my droid transfer them to your ship once payment is given.”
Tahiri felt her Godson’s warm pulse through the Force, smiling at the happiness she felt from it. Sending back a pulse of her own, before following her brother into the bar.
Upon entering, she spotted one of the other familiar presences she felt, Minnow. Greeting her with a big hug back, which made her extremely happy. “Ro-Tahn found out about this place, and has wanted to bring me here for awhile now.”
“Especially since she refuses to take a vacation, unless it’s short,” her brother added with a chuckle, as he hugged the tiny Nautolan. His comment elicited a glare from his older sister.
After replying to Minnie and rolling her eyes at her brother, she turned giving a quick bow to the woman sitting at the bar, smiling as she recognized the last name.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you mama,” she held out her hand to the woman. “If I may ask, as I know a few people from the Mandalorian Clan Armis, are you by chance a relation of Sofila’s?”
<@264959101384130560>
Hekate’s optical sensors tilted, the illumination switching to thin lines as they turned their head, scanning the bar. “Where?” They whispered, trying to calculate where Eris had seen what she had seen. Doc slowly blinked, shaking his head and supressing a chuckle.
Leena listened to the Devaronian, then shrugged her pack off into her lap, sliding out the case she had stowed within. She had been party to many unusual deals in her time, trading everything from raw precious metals and rare crystals to antiquities and cold hard creds for whatever she needed…or more frequently, that she was tasked with getting. It occurred to her how much easier it was operating in Brotherhood space in some regards. How many times had a deal gone sideways on her? She had lost count, and in wilder spaces she would be far more reluctant to front her end of the deal before equal exchange as a result. But not here. It wasn’t exactly lawless, and yet there was still some level of propreity here. It was good dealing with professionals instead of scoundrels. The difficulty was always in determining which one a new contact was. Leena sighed and slid the case over toward the golden-eyed scavenger, watching for her reaction.
Thrissa shook her head at the question then paused
“Actually is there anywhere I can sit down for a bit while I contemplate how to approach trying to eat this.”
She allowed a smirk to form on her face.
The man laughed. “You kind of need a silverware, yes.” He pointed over one direction. “There are tables that ways to eat at, or also the Golden Griddle, if you want more service.”
Once they arrived at the section of the station that housed the safety deposit boxes, he waited until Avalon pointed out the one that Jedwen owned.
“Thank you,” commented Bril before turning to face it. After she unlocked it for him, Bril reached out to open the little metal door of the lockbox, but he stopped himself just before pulling it open.
The Force whispered to him … whispered to them both:
… no …
He froze. One of his first lessons was that when the Will of the Force spoke to you, you stopped to listen to what it had to say. This message was clear. But why? He withdrew his hand and looked to Avalon.
<@244244163002892288>
“Yes! To the diner!” Sulla said, excited beyond belief. She had been craving some nuggies and fries recently. As often as her mama ordered food in or made easier premade things, everything still managed to be healthy and good for her. Rarely did she get to indulge in junkier fast foods. <@351852811883118594>
Lektra was quick to follow her newfound friend, eagerly taking what was said to be one of the best drinks ever and bringing it along with her to one of the more solitary tables. She slid into one of the chairs and set her drink on the table, watching quietly as Sebastian sat across from her.
“Very intense. Thank you for getting us out of there, I was getting a little overwhelmed,” the Firrerreo admitted
“That I can,” Avalon said amicably, and with a flick of her eyes the box levitated up. A panel on one wall suddenly gave way, sliding aside to reveal a hidden airlock, the transparisteel the only separation from them and the void of space.
The lockbox floated in, and door closed. Another opened, and off it floated, not taken by the rush of vacuum force, but still controlled by the Echani.
Further and further out. Then the smallest light as she triggered it, a flare there then gone, poot.
It seemed such a waste for Bril’s efforts. But then the outer door opened again, Avalon lifting her palm, and something floated back inside. Pieces of metal, blackened, frosted. Seals hissed, and then in floated the pieces, hovering above her palm before she directed them towards Bril.
“I am sorry. It isn’t much, but I believe someone with your senses and skills may yet glean something from this…even if it’s just a hint.”
And just when he thought he’d be leaving the Shame Corner empty handed, he saw the pieces of charred and now partially frozen metal floating into the space shared between them. Bril raised his hand, flattening his palm to seize them with his Force telekinesis so they could float safely above his hand. He didn’t want to touch them lest they disintegrate.
“Thank you,” he said, giving Avalon an appreciative look. “You’ve been exceptionally kind and generous today. I’m not sure what that would ever be, but if there’s anything I can ever do to return the favor, don’t hesitate to ask.”
The Echani smiled at him. “Honestly, Envoy, if you can just keep your estimation of us private, that would be most appreciated. I put a great deal of effort,” her emphasis implied the use of the power between them that could save scraps of space dust and recognize danger before it came to fruition, “into concealing my sisters and I. Not because we have very much to hide, but because those chapters in our lives are closed, and this place is our present. The Corner is much more than a station. It is a refuge and a home, where one hungry and without a credit can find food, or a bath, or a moment’s rest under a roof. We all live here, on the other side of the asteroid. Our employees are family, and have their own lives. We do not want to eclipse that, or burden it unduly. And our work for your very network is bargained on this discretion, you understand. Tyris is a discreet fellow. I respect him. I hope to respect you, but all I can do is ask for peace.”
He nodded. “I understand. And I wouldn’t ever intentionally put what you three have here in jeopardy. My entire reason for doing what I do is to help give people the opportunity to find peace in their own lives. And I hope to find peace for myself, one day.”
A sigh escaped his lips while looking at the floating pieces of metal. “I guess this being your past means that there isn’t a chance for me to learn anything from you, then.”
“Hmm,” Avalon hummed, and shrugged supple shoulders, her soft, cropped hoodie sweater bunching. “You can certainly try. Everyone here knows us, at least a little bit. And I don’t speak for Vidente or Ira. It’s up to you if you’d like to befriend them, or try to…” She chuckled softly. “I do not entirely mind teaching, but I am tired, Bril. Perhaps catch me on a nice day, and I will tell you a story, if you are inclined to it.”
As if to lessen the blow of such tepid encouragement, she offered him another small grin.
“Besides…I sense a shade about you. A kindly shadow. And a light casting it…” Her eyes fluttered. “Ah, foresight is not my speciality, but you are bonded. Would I be correct you have a Master, or several, already?”
“I’m surprisingly good at making friends with people who should have nothing in common with me,” he chuckled. “Stories are like the lifeblood of my people, so of course I would!
"And I have two masters, yes, but many teachers. I say that because while a master is a more formal and committed relationship, I believe anyone, or anything can be your teacher.”
Koda holds onto Sulla’s legs and they make their way to get food, “Don’t tell you’re mom I’m buying you junk food, she’ll go from gold to silver quicker than a reversed alchemist.”
<@244244163002892288>
“Dino nuggies are the plan,” Rue murmured, smiling up at Sulla, trailing along and rocking Lektra all the while. The baby seemed quite content. “Elly is to meet us there.”
<@301514304845381632>
“A wise attitude,” complimented the Echani, refreshingly not remarking on anything about ‘for his age’ or similar such sufferings. “I do hope it tempers that fire you have.”
She lead them back out of the security room and into the main store again, bright and amass with merchandise and guests. A little hodgepodge family with a small Twi'lek on shoulders and a baby passed by towards the diner. In the other direction, the bar was teeming with activity.
“Well, Envoy, if you’ll forgive me, I do need to check in with my team. Do come back any time. Our doors never close.”
“Not everyone,” Dusa pointed out. “Some of them are worried about their clothes, apperances, speeders, ships…. the list goes ooooon.” Dusa blinked at Matcha’s comment about her ‘throwing away her life’.
Heh.
“Well, take it from someone who had ya know… experimented and got… maybe hooked a bit–” Her traveling friends has helped her but they can only do so much. “I much rather cheat in casinos then fall back down in that hole. Just saying.” Though, the silence and nighttimes were the worse when that jitters kick in.
Food! The bowls had arrived with steam emitting from the soup. It looked phenomenal, delicious, thick, creamy, and top of the line, fresh.
“Thank you!” She grinned to Flo as she got a spoon and took a bite and–
“AYO! THIS IS GOOD SOUP!” She made sure she was loud enough for the chef to hear it. They deserve it for this galaxy-sent best soup ever.
“Thank you again, Avalon,” he said, bowing again. “I’ll be seeing you.”
After that, Bril turned around and began in the direction of his ship. He tapped on his vambrace a few times to send a message to Minnow.
🥼 : Got what I needed, baby. Circling back to the ship to store the evidence. Will meet you back at the bar.
Back at the bar with Tahiri, Ro, and Lilian, Minnie’s pad pinged, and she glanced at the message transmitted to the display on her vambrace and smiled.
“I’ll have something fruity and virgin,” she told the other domny mommy vibes bartender before turning back to her Togruti and Human compatriots. Lilian could’ve been asleep in her seat, quietly drinking away pain and defeat as she was. “You gais want anything? Bril is on his way.”
<@375384499770359819> <@264959101384130560>
Sebastian laughed into his bottle as he took a sip. He shook his head slightly, glancing back at the bar. “I wouldn’t say that.”
He couldn’t take credit for a situation that he was basically forced in to. His eyes drifted back over to his not-date. “How’s your drink? And… I know she was suspicious before but, like, how old are you?”
Lillian seemed to finally drag herself from whatever trance she had been stuck in at Minnie’s words, as she had been staring at the glass in her hands in between sips. Scenes of fire and bombs going off in the reflection in the glass. She looked up at the Togruta that had adressed her, emarald eyes dark for a moment before the clouds disappeared. She cleared her throat and straightened herself up, rusty curls falling around her face.
“M'sorry, I got lost there for a moment. Yes. She’s one of me and Wulfram’s foundlings– essentially our daughters.” She took Tahiri’s outstreatched hand, unaware of how long the woman had been holding it out, and shook it.
“It’s nice to finally meet you Tahiri, I’ve heard of you in passing. ”
<@375384499770359819>
Matcha simply shrugged and let the conversation run its course, thankful for the interruption from food. Just like Dusa, she thanked Flo and then admired the bowl in front of her. She hated to admit it, but she hadn’t eaten anything decent in days, so this would be a brilliant change of pace for her. She opened her mouth to take a bite when Dusa abruptly shouted her praise of the soup. The Mirialan dropped her spoon into her bowl and nearly jumped out of her own skin in surprise, giving the Pantoran in front of her a slight glare for only a moment. “I’m right here, y'know. No need to scream.”
“You got it, sweet thing,” Ira purred, winking at Reiden and then moving to get him his second whiskey. While she was at it, she took a few more orders and served some others, watching the kids move away to one of the tiny two person tables along the wall. That freed up some more seats at the bar, quickly filled. One such new patron was a Sephi in armor, who went about gulped down half her drink at once in the way that just screamed desperation. Bad day, bad break up, bad job? Who knew. But she was next to Reiden, and since apparently Elly was just a friend, maybe making some more would be good for them both.
The bartender brought back that second whiskey, setting it down in front of the man, and then, to the Sephi, drawled, “Hey, there, haaaaave you met Reiden?” She gestured the woman’s attention directly next to her, smirking with fangs and stepping off to grab some more glasses.
<@206692046424113152>
The duo did as Sebastian suggested, taking to one of the open tables, ciders in hands. When they arrived at the table he experienced an internal dilemma. If he pulled out her chair would it be rude? On the other hand, he didn’t want to be insulting. She was more than capable of doing it herself.
The beanie-clad man stood and waited until she sat down. And then he sat down. Maybe he was being awkward and overthinking. What if she thought he was a total weirdo? The thought got buried when they were settled in their chairs, the Human knocking his bottle against hers as was custom before he took the first sip.
“That bartender was a little intense, huh?”
“There is certainly something more going on here,” commented the Echani, silver eyes meeting Bril’s. She looked to the lockbox and sighed softly. “I do hope it isn’t another bomb. Those are tiresome. What do you think, Envoy?”
“Another bomb?” he said with mild shock. Although, he supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprise given the station’s connection to the Brotherhood. Avalon spoke about the possibility of them almost being exploded like it was more akin to a nuisance than an actual threat. But maybe it was to her. He had no idea what she was capable of, but kark did he want to know.
“Well, whatever it is, it isn’t safe,” he noted, “I’m sure you felt the same thing I did, so we should probably assume the worst. He probably assumed that someone would pick up his trail eventually, and left something here to kill or at the very least maim anyone who tried to follow it. How did you handle the last bomb?”“
“Space them, generally,” she commented. “Ira has…some skill at handling them, but she is no expert, so unless you’ve your own on speed dial, I would suggest we treat this box to its final farewell. My apologies to your evidence, of course.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it can’t be helped. I trust in the Force to lead me to him again.”
After taking two steps back, Bril gestured toward the lockbox while looking at her. “Do the honors?”
Taking her fudge towards the direction indicated, Thrissa passed several other customers and groups, including what seemed to be a family with children. Also a lot of merchandise. A LOT. And more food. Signage for showers, nap closests, storage, pet feed, a job board…how many flavors of jerky, jam, and Shame Bites could there be, and what was a Shame Bite?
It was enough that she ended up heading for the Golden Griddle, the diner offering seating as well, rather than the empty picnic tables further down through the organized jungle of plushies, t shirts, and knickknacks. The host waved at her, smiling.
“Hiya! Any preference? Booth or table, or counter?”
Meanwhile, inside, a Mirialan woman flinched as the Pantoran across from her yelled about how delicious some soup was. <@139162442646159360>
“I was just– you’re soooooo meannnnnn, I wanted to let the chef know how good that soup was– Ya know what, you have a good point. Give me a moment!” With that she slid out of the booth and skipped her way to window.
Then she saw a Chiss with a big ol’ fudge. By herself.
“Excuse me ma'am, will you go sit down by that cute Mirialan over there? I’ll be right over, I just need to tell the Chef somethinnnnnnnng.”
And with that, she continued her skipping to the window.
“YOOOO HOOOOO!” <@139162442646159360> <@244244163002892288>
Ray, who was just coming out with a tray, barely managed not to drop everything as he flinched from someone rushing up and shouting at max volume. His first instinct was that they were being attacked, and the electricity in his veins surged, coiling tight and lighting bright in his eyes. But thankfully he kept his cool enough to assess rather than burst, and upon realizing it was a customer, hands at least empty of a weapon, he righted himself.
Reelu was looking at him from the griddle, obviously waiting. Flor had fumbled a caf pot she was pouring out at table ten. The host startled.
“What?” Ray snapped, and then reigned in his voice back to Appropriate Customer Service Levels. “I, what ma'am, what is it?”
Lektra brought her cider to her lips and gave it a quick sniff before sipping from it. She winced and set it down. “Blegh… I thought cider would be all sweet but for some reason, it burns a bit. I don’t like it. And I’m twenty, why? Does that matter around here?” After a pause, she grabbed the cider and sipped on it again, having an equal reaction to before. She looked down at the cup and wondered why she did that.
Oh.
I made a boo-boo.
“Hhhheeey! So uh- I just wanted to- let the Chef know that was the best damn soup I ever did had in the galaxy—“ while she talked, she slowly walked backwards back to her booth; not wanting to lose that soup. No siree Bobbo.
“I have to say I am loving the whole—“ she gestured to all of Ray, “electrifying sizzling bad ass you got going on here!”
Ray did not love the electrifying sizzling. Not at all sir. He groaned as much in exasperation as relief and heard a laugh from the kitchen. He had to focus to make all the buzzing die down. His hair was standing up. At least no electronics had fried this time.
But now the drinks he carried were warm, so that was just great.
“You’re– fine, ma'am, I’m sorry about– ugh.” The man huffed again and saw Flor looking at him like she wanted to come to the rescue across the bar. She blew a kiss, and he mimed catching it and tucking it away habitually, balancing the tray on his one hand and shoulder.
A green face peeked out from the door. “Thanks! It’s good soup!” she called before ducking back in.
Sebastian nearly choked on his drink when he heard her age. Now the pieces were starting to fit together in his mind. She didn’t know cider because she probably never had it before. He always thought they were too sweet.
“I-uh–kark.” The swear fumbled out of his mouth as he gently pulled her cup away from her. He lowered his head and voice and if he could, he would have lowered his existence too. “I-it does matter. Near-Humans have to be twenty-one to drink.” It seemed the overly suspicious bartender had that part right. He felt stupid. He rubbed the back of his neck not feeling too good about the situation. “How about some juice? Or water?”
Sebastian’s change in expression instantly worried Lektra. He didn’t seem angry, he seemed surprised and a tad worried, if anything. The woman raised a brow as he grabbed her drink and slowly took it from her. Any question she would’ve asked was soon to be answered as the Human started to fumble out an explanation as to why her being twenty was bad. She blushed slightly at the realization that she was, in fact, breaking some of the rules around there.
“I uhm… I wouldn’t mind some juice. Sorry.” She curled in on herself just a tad.
Sebastian was quick to fulfill her request, getting out of his seat to head to the bar, ordering a juice. The bartender eyed him down again before she relented and gave the man a juice.
He sat back down with the cup, sliding it over to her with a straw. “And juice. Tastes good. And it’s legal…”
Yep. A big boo boo.
But then, a green face peeked out and thanked her. Dusa grinned from ear to ear, gave them thumbs up in appreciation and approval before looking back over to Ray.
“Yea, well, I’m just gonna…ya know…” She gestured to the table and quickly fast-walked as if she had a wedgie.
<@301514304845381632> <@139162442646159360>
An insistent beeping sounded from Alex’s belt, and he glanced down as he grabbed his comlink. He spoke into it for a moment, tilted his head to the side, then grabbed his helmet off the bar and tossed it in the air with a quick spin before attaching it back to his belt hook.
“I am afraid I am called away for urgent business elsewhere. Perhaps some other time when we run across each other I will be able to satisfy your curiosity. For now, I bid you a good day.”
And with that, he strode away, heading back for his ship at the hangar bay.
For the short moment Lektra was left on her lonesome, the woman couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. She had no reason to, she didn’t know that you had to be a certain age to drink, yet she still felt it.
When Sebastian sat back down with a new drink she looked at it in front of her. “Juice,” she sighed, rubbing her silver cheeks. “Sorry for that. I didn’t know.”
“It’s, uh, it’s okay,” Sebastian replied with a lopsided smile. Although he thought it was peculiar she didn’t know that, he didn’t judge her.
“You know for next time now, yeah?”
Thrissa wasn’t sure what to make of all the energy, but she wasn’t hear for it. She just nodded at the request and went to take a seat with her fudge still in hand. She walked over to the Mirialan and nodded.
“I am unsure as to why, but I was requested to sit here. I hope you don’t mind.”
She took a seat still wondering what was going on this place seemed to be full of people and all of them seemed to have way more energy than Thrissa ever showed. She could be nice, but she was never a happy go lucky person. Unless she was intentionally finding pleasure in the pain of others.
<@244244163002892288> <@301514304845381632> <@216702440140046336>