A spy, a knight and a businessman step into a bar (open bar thread)

[Raziel]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiSS5xn_0fc

Raziel slunk back into the corner of his booth, shying away from the lazy half-light that pervaded the cantina. At the bar an Obsidian Knight placed both gauntleted fists down. The Jedi, encased in black armour and gadgets, was flanked by a pair of battle droids. The Knight projected the holo-image of a Bothan from his arm, the bartender shook his head and shrugged. After a moment the Knight gave up, turning his multi-faceted sensors on the crowd before turning on his heels and leaving.

The Spynet had several items of business today. He had a contact within ATC to talk to, and the new Lord Commander and old Foreman were around.


/OOC it’s a bar thread. Please don’t just kick off.
[member="Ash Valente"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

He was doing this a lot. Sitting in bars, and making sure he could get to sleep. He felt Corellia split. He felt his frakking homeworld split in two. And with the Force being wonky? All he could do was keep Bright Star running. Hell, the former leader of the Abrion Corporate Alliance was back working to make sure his home territory survived, on top of working with Tion. [member="Raziel"] was doing what he could to strengthen the military, with the refounding of the Obsidian Order. And that was a smart move.

Marek would help teach, but fight? He could pay people to do that. And he normally did.

Holding the rocks glass of Whyren's up to his head, he was taking a deep breath, letting it in and out.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Raziel"]

It would take some damn good reasoning for Danger to end up sauntering in a bar for an clandestine meeting.

Maybe things were just kinda really out there, but here she was. In a bar. About to met two business associates.

What in the blazes was she thinking?!

Maybe things had just escalated well into the crazy. Or maybe she needed something different. A bit of a grounding so to speak. Either way, not many would recognize the Trade Queen dressed as she was. Not with the beige cowl over her head and the goggles that would be set over her eyes. She wore spacer clothing, items that were more suitable for traveling round Tatooine than in a Casino Gala.

But that was fine. It meant she could slink in this watering hole without anyone going crazy with the paparazzi.

So, slinking inside with a swagger and sway that years of practice could not hide, Danger would enter the cantina.

Then make a beeline for the bar.

"Corellian Whiskey -- neat. "

 

[Raziel]

In this quality of establishment, the bartenders would be more than happy to serve up a Corellian reserve. Would it be authentic? Almost certainly not, and the usual clientele would be none the wiser. Mixing blends and water went a long way.

Raziel produced two items from his jacket: a data pad and a deck of cards. The first showed a black screen with the small green light; Spynet were ensuring no one was electronically listening in. He would deal with those around them. No one around would be able to quite recall the people around the table, much less what was discussed. The data pad was functional, the deck was more for his own enjoyment.

You could learn a lot about someone playing cards, in Raziel's opinion. He'd been playing for a very long time. As a boy it had taught him several life lessons that had always stuck with him, defined him even:

Hide your assets. Never let anyone know what you can do, what you know and what you're planning. If you know everything about your opponent and can guess what he will do next you already have a huge advantage;
Distract people, divert their attention. It is one thing to have you opponent guessing, it is entirely different when they're certain you're doing something you're not;
Move in ways no one expects you to move in. Strike unexpectedly and take control when they least suspect it;
Take every advantage; don't be afraid to cheat, because the next man would do the same to you.

Raziel was good at cards. In another life he'd have had a family, a normal life and been something like a risk analyst. Instead his hollow existence was a series of events where he attacked problems and challenges and solved them analytically. He found the greatest challenge to keep himself busy, and the retrospectively attempted to define why he had followed that path. He had no concept of what he truly wanted, he was just killing time. All he had sewn behind him was confusion and more than a few cadavers.

Of course, as an assassin, his lack of scruples and morality, ruthlessness, and appetite for risk was nothing compared to the two entrepreneurs who had walked into the bar. One he had a few dealings with as the foreman of the Techno Union. The other he had been planning to steal from to keep himself amused, but somehow when the risk had been taken out of the equation (with it being an InnoteQ security test) he hadn't found the enthusiasm to get on with the task.

If the new Lord Commander was coming, he was in for pasting.
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

He looked over when he heard a familiar voice through the crowd. One thing Marek was really good with, without the Force, was voices, and tone. Sound and how it affected everything. And the feelings behind songs, and voices. That was how he knew [member="Danger Arceneau"] was in the building, and ordering a drink. He was wondering how she'd been fairing in this situation. She always had everything on lock, and he really envied that. Marek himself? He was always in a few directions at once.

And that was when Marek was trying to figure out just what the government was going to do. So many people lost, and now what? Replace them? Droid workers? That was the best idea right now. Life would go on, it always did. He had [member="Raziel"] and his team to thank for that. Protecting everyone in the Abrion systems from behind closed doors.

Best comrades were the ones you didn't see.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Raziel"] [member="Marek Starchaser"]

And so gets they were. Now the question was where to start? Who would start?

The barkeep set her choice of vice in a rather grimy glass. A grimace came to her then. Well begets can't be choosers, she gave a small shrug. Turning round, she would lean against the table keeping a wary eye out. It was all about posture and position. One wanted the wall behind them and the door to their front.

Never have your back to the entrance. Ever.

But all things come in time. For now, she would wait.

Meanwhile, she had a small earwig in her ear that would give her information on any pertinent updates. PharmaTech was starting to expand, and the first thing was scouting and surveying the world of Quesh. Word had it that this particular planet was a world that had done wonders with adrenals in the past. Perhaps this would be the best place to start.

 

[Raziel]

In the shadowed recesses of his corner booth, Raziel started to shuffle. Dexterous hands that were equally at home shuffling cards or guiding blades flicked through the deck at a speed that was hard to follow. He laid the pile down on the table, two coloured mats for the hand pot and sabbac pot, a row of coloured chits to represent credits and finally a handful of chips that could be laid on a card to stop them from shifting.

Mr Starchaser, care for a game? Why don't you bring Ms Arceneau along too?

[member="Danger Arceneau"][member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou]

[member="Raziel"] [member="Danger Arceneau"] [member="Marek Starchaser"]

Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou pulled his cloak down further on his face, his stomach crying out for food. Underneath his cloak, in a small bag he'd borrowed, clicked as he walked, focusing as always on his steps. It wouldn't do to fall and startle someone.

One thing he had found, travelling about, was how different everything was. Back home, the only noises were those of his fellow herd members and the sounds of the caves and forests which had lulled him to sleep every day. But here, there were sounds of the likes which he'd never heard -- screeches which grated against his ears; strange, thumping tones; and so, so many tongues spoken everywhere!

He had also found that not everyone seemed like him -- in fact, the amount of variations of people which he'd encountered was nearly uncountable! But, alas, that did not mean they were understanding, accepting, undisturbed by his appearance. His ears still hurt from the shrill scream of the child who'd caught a glimpse of his face. Ue-'Kuo'Koe'c'cu-Eou rubbed the side of his head with one bandaged hand, wincing at the memory. Why does she scream so loud? he had wondered. Does she not have gills on her face, either? Are these gills of me not well? He'd then tried to sooth the child with words, singing her a lullaby which his mother had sang to him, and it had started working -- until the parents found them. Their reactions, at least, were understandable. He would have done the same, had he and his beloved had a child.

The hand on his head moved to the stones on his neck.

There will not be any more of that nonsense, he thought grimly. I will find a dark place to eat and perhaps rest before continuing on my way.

Weaving through the small crowds of people, the Blind One finally detected a place which would suit his needs -- a...cantina, if he recalled correctly. Perhaps these kind people will not throw me out as well, he thought. The music flowing out of the entrance was odd, yet enticing. It was happy, upbeat, bubbly, attesting to good people inside.

Still keeping his head low, he walked in and headed in the direction of whom he assumed was the bartender. He was making good progress, his gait slow, steady, sure, cautious.

Until he tripped over his own foot.

With a sad fluting noise, the tall alien crashed forward, his cloak fluttering around him and -- for the barest trace of a nanosecond -- his face was exposed to the world. If any were to see it, they would be presented with a peculiar sight indeed.

Muttering apologies which sounded something like, "Ou-Uue-O'ce-'Kouu-E'ceu-O-'C'c-Uo-Uu'cee'c-'Ceoeoueuo'c-Ooo-Uuou-'Kouu'c'cuoo'c-'C'c'k-'Cooue-'Kuo'cu-O-U'coe-'Coe'cue'k-O'c-Uuou-Oo'ce-Euu'ceeouu'ce'cu!" he struggled to stand up, repeatedly stepping on his cloak and bringing himself back down. Oh, he lamented. I have gotten meself in such a wonderful mess, if only The One With Eyes will assist me in avoiding more terrible embarrassment!

 

[Corey's OOC]

Posture and position, huh? Yeah, Marek would always notice that on the redheaded Trade Queen. She seemed to have the market on erm.... posture. And the discussion and thoughts of posture always ran to a similar thought process on positions. Maybe that was just Marek, but it was really how his mind worked. Whatever, he lived in hedonism, so sue him, right?

Of course.

What he needed to do was stop feeling sorry, and frakking quantify what to do with his homeworld going all Brokellia. Right now there was enough work in both Tion and Abrion for him to keep busy.

Smirking to himself, he figured that was @Raziel. Nodding, the Casino Slum Lord Weather Manipulating Sort of Force Using ManThing got up from his stool and finished the drink, tapping the rim for another, before making his way over to [member="Danger Arceneau"]. “Care for some cards?” He grinned.

And that was when he turned to the... was that a language. Marek took a step back and arched an eye. But right, public figure and all, Marek stepped forward. “Need a hand?” Yeah, thing might not even understand him, and Force knew that this was going to be a clicked @Mention and not typed, but Marek still held out a hand to offer to steady @Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou.

 

[Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou]

[member="Marek Starchaser"]

Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou's writer did not find it surprising that Marek's writer did not want to attempt to type out his name, though they did consider it amusing -- particularly since the language (for it truly was a language, and not just gibberish) was deliberately created to be difficult and lengthy.

Meanwhile, the Blind One himself paused in his struggles at the approach of the stranger. He sensed that this person had no intention to harm him, though the words he spoke when over the male's head.

I wonder what this being wants....And looks like. He tilted his head up, the cloak covering the upper part of his face but revealing his mouth. A series of soft, high-pitched clicks issued forth from Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou's vocal chords, and through echolocation he was able to understand what this man wanted.

The Blind One reached up a bandaged hand and, ever so slowly, pulled himself up. At his full height, the alien could tell he was a good three, four inches taller than this being.

Releasing the hand, Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou bowed slightly, saying graciously, " 'C'c'c'c-uu'c'c'ku-'ce-oooe'c'k." Then, pointing to himself (for he realised this being may not be able to understand him) the Blind One said, simply, "Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] came her way, asked a question and in turn, would receive a hidden smile behind the thick swath of fabric hiding her face.

"I just might be," came her metallic voice through the voice modulator of the breathing mask she had in place. It didn't take long for all to take their seats, Marek to her right, front door to the front.

Had to be careful after all.

"What are we betting, boys?" she'd coo, setting her glass down in front of her with a laid back demeanor, all the while considering about Quesh. Quesh was a world riddled with toxic waste within Hutt Space. It was discovered by the Galactic Republic during the Great War, but was promptly abandoned due to its poisonous atmosphere.


@Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou @Raziel

 

[Raziel]

Raziel reached out with one hand, offering up the deck. Always polite when playing with unfamiliar faces to allow a second shuffle. It was a raiche deck, which meant a double tap on the back of the pile would shift all the cards, and they could be shuffled traditionally.

"Seeing as the change the pair of you keep down the back of your sofas is likely enough to have me shuffling out of here naked, we'll play for small stakes. Or... I typically play for secrets and information," he added with a stoic expression.

 

[Eun]

Unpronounceable names, big faces, and a bar. Of course Shorn would be there.

"Hey lady, you can't be in here."

"Says who?" The sixteen year old Kate gave the bartender a withering glare, lip-curling sneer combo for a solid TKO to his protestations. She hopped on a barstool without waiting for a reply. Wearing an unornamented green flight suit, the girl looked like any other average spacer, but her casual nonchalance set a different tone.

Shorn slapped a credchip down, silencing any further apprehension, and ordered a drink. Eyes like arctic ponds swept across the rooms occupants. I spy with my little eye....

[member="Raziel"], [member="Danger Arceneau"], @UE UE KACHING, [member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Elpsis Kallikora"]

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Katya Shorn"]


It was obviously just coincidence that resulted in Elpsis sauntering into the bar that had in the span of a few minutes become filled with celebrities. Not every day that the buxom Trade Empress, the Spynet...Spymaster - incredibly lame pun! - and the Techno Union head honcho all walked into one. Presumably. And the Heir to the Thronebreaker was here as well. Presumably if the bar was not annihilated in a sudden outburst of violence the barkeeper might become famous. Or he could at least brag about having hosted so many celebrities. Maybe even claim they had endorsed his establishment.



Anyhow, bar, cheap drinks, of course Elpsis, daughter of a fortunately dead and very much unlamented murderous Sith Lord, had to show up. Maybe this would be one of those rare occasions where a visit to a possibly seedy bar did not end with her indulging her habit for kneecapping people. Leather jacket, tank top, leather pants, blaster pistol on her hip. Walking with your typical spacer swagger, though her Force signature, despite being weak and unrefined, told a different story.


"Whiskey. Strongest you got," she spoke as she fished a credit chit out of a pocket in he leather jacket and slapped it on the counter of the bar, the eternal language of credits silencing any protests the barkeeper might have made. Blue travelled across the bar's occupants before falling on the girl next to her.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel gave the deck another shuffle and shift before the pair as he sat there, it never hurt to do so in front of your opponents, even if his quick hands could probably get up to mischief in front of them. Marek’s mind was walled off, a good decision in his presence. The Foreman presented the visage of a smiling, bumbling fool in Raziel’s mind. Such a benign outward presentation made Raziel nervous, he naturally assumed it was a cover for a much more devious aspect.

Ms Arceneau was smiles and swagger and swinging hips. But just beneath that veneer was something much less appealing. A shadow. The kind of darkness that gnawed on the edges and… Raziel broke off the connection. His natural gift for empathy was both boon and bane. He subconsciously reached out to all the minds around him and latched onto their thoughts and emotions. His natural camouflage was to simply slip into the role anyone expected of him, almost an emotional feedback. He blended into the background like furniture and slipped from memory within minutes. He was everyone. And no one.

He idly wondered if Marek was going to introduce him to the third player in this hand. The shrewd business woman might have recognised him previous visits to her premises, but he had been in disguise at the time.

“So, I see underage drinking is as popular as ever on backwater worlds?” he asked nodding at the newcomers, his expression stoic, yet one eyebrow raised just a fraction.

[member="Elpsis Kallikora"]
[member="Katya Shorn"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

The... Blind One, odd creature thing that Marek really wasn't reaching out to comprehend with, by the Force at least. But Marek was doing the public appearance thing right now and that was why he offered the hand. When the being was on his feet, Marek quirked up an eyebrow. Was that speaking? And then it pointed at itself, and more sounds. Those sounds were words. Marek pointed at the critter again and did his best of trying to not butcher the name, but it wasn't working.

This was going to take some of his attention, wasn't it?

What was this being?

Right, there was still others in the bar, and [member="Danger Arceneau"] and [member="Raziel"] were approaching a table for games. “Cards?” He said to @Unceunceunce. He was hearing terms of betting. And offering a seat to the Blind One, Marek nodded.

“Secrets still? And everyone this is...” He pointed and snapped his finger, for once something distracting him from Danger's assets. “Uc'eh'heu?” Taking a second to allow the other to introduce himself. And then approaching the Rim world question. "Yeah, seems to be the hip thing out this way. Can hold a gun and see over the bar..." He dismissed.

[member="Elpsis Kallikora"] [member="Katya Shorn"] [member="Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou"]

 

[Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou]

[member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Raziel"] [member="Elpsis Kallikora"] [member="Katya Shorn"] ((Am totally using your tag for me xD)) [member="Danger Arceneau"] [member="Raziel"]

Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou tilted his head, not understanding at first what the being was doing. Why was he pointing at him and making those odd noises? Surely he was not dying? Finally, though, it clicked. The being was trying to say his name!

The Blind One issued a few low ch-kuff ch-kuff in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Then, shaking his head slightly, he once again pointed at himself and repeated slowly, "Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou."

He followed this funny little creature to an object surrounded by smaller objects and other little creatures, seemingly of this one's same makeup. At least, that's what he assumed -- there were no extraordinary differences, except for what seemed like two small, round objects affixed to the one's chest. Perhaps they are of a different species. Considering what he'd seen so far, that made sense.

Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou tilted his head again, using his echolocation and Force ability to get a good idea of how everyone was squatting on the smaller objects. Once he comprehended what needed to be done, the Blind One very delicately pulled the small object out and sat on it, bumping the table in the process. Letting out a giant, mournful noise, he turned his attention back to the first creature, who'd made a sharp snapping noise, followed again by those sounds of death from earlier.

Again he was trying to say his name! Oh, this was much too amusing! Gripping his stomach and throwing his head back, the Blind One began to make loud noises, a mix between deep whoops and high-pitched squeaks, accentuated with clicks to make an interesting musical sound. "EEEEEE-youuk EEEEE-youuk!"

Amidst the laughter, his hood fell off and revealed his head, shiny with the thin coating of mucous. Quickly, the sounds stopped and his hands reached up to pull the hood back down. Pausing for a moment, the Blind One once again held his hand to his chest and, clearly embarrassed, repeated, "Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou."

 

[Eun]

Another chick at the bar. Another protest. Another issuance of credits. Kate raised an eyebrow over her glass of bourbon. She couldn't decide whether this would be her new best friend or the burgeoning of an arch-nemesis. Before any introductions could be made the bar got a little noisy.

Kate's eyes drifted through the smoky haze of lit ciggarras and deathsticks. She swept over the business bimbo, paused on the blond boy-next-door, and raised an eyebrow at the hooded dude before settling on the man in black. His emerald eyes shone gloomily in the ill-lit cantina, like the tenebrous heart of the forest. Engaging in the way a mystery was engaging, all enigmatic knots. Promises were only made to be broken and secrets to be spoken.

Mr. Riddle's lips moved with a coy twitch, words lost in the dull buzz of the bar. His eyes flicked from her to her new bar-buddy. Well, at least she knew the topic of the conversation.

The young Shorn turned to the blue-eyed girl. "Name is-"

"EEEE-youuk, EEEE-yooouk!"

"HEY MUCUS FACE!" She yelled over the laughter, whirling on her stool and glowering at the unhooded alien, "Keep it down."

Back to blue-eyes. "Anyway, name's Kate. Kate Shorn. You?"

[member="Raziel"] | [member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Danger Arceneau"] | [member="Elpsis Kallikora"] | @Mucus Face

 

[Brigid Fitch]

Brigid, or Celia Fate as she'd decided she was today, had been at the bar for the better part of three hours, and was currently holding onto said bar to make sure she didn't fall off her stool. She watched as two young girls came in within five minutes of each other and slapped credits down on the counter, like they did in holos.

"Kids these days."

She commented sorrowfully to the bartender.

"Anyway, as I was sayin' right, as I was sayin'."

She gestured with one hand, making sure to keep holding on with the other.

"You ever lived in like, shared housing? Like, like an apartment or somethin'?"

The gesturing hand was used to transport drink to lips, obviously not for the first time.

"Have y'ever like, ever thought that maybe they were haunted? But like, y'just blamed your neighbours?"

The drink was finished and the glass pushed hopefully forwards toward the bartender.

"Like you're just in yer livin' room, sprawled out onna floor, as y'do, and you hear somfing, and yer like 'Oh, rattling chains at 2 am again? Motherkarker.'"

This raised some interesting questions about where precisely she'd been living and what kind of neighbours she'd had. Normally we would say bad ones, but honestly in comparison to the woman herself...

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Katya Shorn"], [member="Raziel"], [member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Danger Arceneau"]


For what was probably your run-of-the-mill bar, it certainly seemed to acquire interesting patrons. Even renowned ones. Redheaded businesswoman who deployed her assets like siege artillery, blonde-haired bigwig and a shadowy fellow. They practically reeked of power, greed and self-entitlement, or at least that was what Elpsis' senses were telling her. Even at this hour the bar was getting crowded, so many patrons puking and bleating out their desires.


There were times when empathy sucked. Like when you were in a crowd and could not blot out the voices. Granted by now Elpsis had gotten better at it, even with her lack of training, but it was to little avail when the painful throbbing of a headache announced itself.


So much noise. The smoke haze of cheap cigarras and deathsticks invaded her nostrils, willing her to suck it in. As the noise beat against her skull she gripped her bottle whiskey and gulped down a good portion of it. The air was rank with smoke but at least this had the effect of calmnig her mind down a bit. It took her a second or two to register what the girl next to her was saying. The girl's whose entrance Elpsis had sort of plagiarised because the redhead's writer had not been feeling original when they decided to drop her into the bar.


Ah, right. Girl had a name. Kate Shorn. "Elpsis Kallikora," blue eyes responded as she took a swig at her drink. then raised an eyebrow. "Related to...that Shorn?" No judgement in her words, some curiosity though. Now, one might consider that in a Galaxy as vast as this one, with more planets than anyone could count, where even the mass disappearances of trillions of beings left enough around to initiate a mass scramble for power and influence, there might be thousands upon thousands of Shorns, without any relation to the Thronebreaker. However, that would be less dramatic and in all likelihood none of them had hit the news as much as he had given his thronebreaking, skyscraper-demolishing shenanigans.