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A Man Of Many Words [Lucien]

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
WORLPORT - ORD MANTELL

It was a cold day.
The beach was windy, and the waves freezing; Triko hated the cold.
Jawas weren't built for winter, and Triko was, as most tended to guess, a Jawa. Ord Mantell wasn't supposed to be cold, yet, much to his dismay, it was cold.
Shivering gently in a seaside cantina, he debated calling Hatman about where the sporting goods store was while he waited with a Jawa Juice. He was not waiting for anyone; Triko did not wait. Opportunities came to him, and right now, as he stared across the bleak, pale blue waves from his seat in the cantina, he did not doubt an opportunity would arise, be it from a killer who wanted his head or someone who fancied his services. He wasn't really sure what his services were by this point.

He couldn't remember much about himself, come to think of it.

@[member="Lucien Cordel"]
 

teaking

Thus Saith the Lord
Writer
Lucien fell into the bar, In the most classy way a drunk saddened man could. He was being shadowed by two soldiers. It could be viewed that he was about to be arrested, this was far from the truth they were there to protect him ... mainly from himself. Lucien had a rare snap of realization. He was confused where was he and more importantly how did he get here?

He soon remembered. His wife to be had left him just a night before and he was here to get monstrously drunk. He staggered over to the bar "A Double from the t...top shelf" He said his words notably slurred. The barkeep shook his head "You have had enough" He said gruffly. Lucien slammed his fist on the bar "My wife just left me, A double ... Gentlemen" He said his head sinking onto the bar. His guards stepped forward their guns hanging before them.
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Isn't that unusual.

Triko raised both eyebrows, invisible as they were, and looked with intent curiosity to the drunk human who'd just entered. Drunkards were nothing unusual, especially in a bar, yet this one had something odd to him; perhaps it was the pair of large armed guards. That or his hair. Triko wasn't fully sure.

Anyhow, he wanted to know who the man was.

"Guards!" He yelled to his soldiers. "Who your drunk man!?"
 

teaking

Thus Saith the Lord
Writer
Lucien looked up. One of the guards turned around "This is His Grace Lord Lucien Cordel" The gaurd replied. Lucien attempted to stand up, had his guards not been there he would have ended up on the floor. He stumbled over to the Jawa's booth and offered his hand. He couldn't really see where the little creature was and he may have just punched the creatures face. It was of course accidental, His armed gaurd's certified that.
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Triko ignored the fact that this 'Lucien Cordel' currently had his hand extended just above his bollocks, he shook his hand and nodded to the guards, still quite bemused.

"Who you, Drunkman?"
 

teaking

Thus Saith the Lord
Writer
"Lucien Cordel" He said in reply withdrawing his hand. He slumped down whilst trying to remember all his titles. He had drunk too much. He looked into the Jawas invisible face "Were am I Mr. ...?" He said hoping the Jawa would interrupt him
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
"I am Triko." He grinned, settling back into his seat. Finishing his Jawa Juice, he placed the empty glass back on the table and looked back up to Drunkman. "I will call you Drunkman, and you will call me Triko." After hunching over delicately laying a line of glitterstim down along the table, he looked at Drunkman again with his piercing golden stare. "Why you need guards?" The man was clearly something unusual.

"And why they call you grace?" Perhaps he was some kind of royalty; that meant money was involved.
 

teaking

Thus Saith the Lord
Writer
Had Lucien been fully in position of his faculties the jawa would be dead. As it was however he just smiled. "You sir are entertaining" He said his head lulled but he caught it with his hand. He looked to the soldiers "Please tell this small person my titles" He said sleepily. The taller of the two guards rolled his eyes before speaking "Lord Cordel is One of the 5 leaders of the fringe confederacy and governs Zaadja and Skye"
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
Triko raised his head in acknowledgement to the guards and looked back to the drunkard. "Triko recommend you go home, or you end up hurt." His tone was friendly, but nonetheless somewhat stern.
Another thought crossed his mind. "What important Drunkman doing here?" He was wondering about killing the man; he was like to be rich.

One stray hand slid over the grip of his pistol.
 

teaking

Thus Saith the Lord
Writer
"i just lost my wife to be" He sighed. Had he been more aware he might have noticed the stray hand but Lucien was beginning to feel ill "Perhaps your righ.." He then proceeded to throw up all over himself. "You need to go home sir" A gaurd said Lucien nodded and began to shuffle from the booth
 

Triko

Purple Haze
Writer
"Drunkman!" Triko called as the he shuffled away.

"Stay away from drink!" He grinned, placing both hands back across his lap. "Don't want Drunkman dead!" Looking over to the bartender, he gave him a quizzical stare and passed him a few credits, likely not the right amount for the Jawa Juices he'd purchased. Rising onto his stubby feet, he shuffled out of the cantina back into the cold.
 
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