Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Aerial Kilometer Club (ORC Dominion of Hex G-56)

The Reaper of Won Shasot
sci-fi-lounge-tithi-luadthong.jpg


[SIZE=11pt]Out between Ancora and Thral, a large space-faring vessel flashed with bright lights and booming sounds. Except these weren’t the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]sites and sounds of battle. These were lights and sounds of a party yacht. The [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Dancing Bantha[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] was filled to the brim with alcohol and people, flashing lights and the deep thrum of synthetic dance music could be seen in every direction. While the Twi’lek and Zeltron dancers weren’t one of the main events, there were certainly more than enough to go around. What was really drawing the crowd’s attention at this point in time was the bartending competition taking place. All of the best bartenders in the Coalition had gathered here to show off their best skills, tricks, and drinks. What did the winner of this competition get? Well, the grand prize was a secret, but rumor held it was something that any one who enjoyed alcohol would love. And considering most members of the Coalition loved their alcohol, there were a lot of participants. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]With the bright flashing lights spraying an assortment of colors and the loud music drumming to a beat your feet and heart can’t help but dance to, the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Dancing Bantha[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] invites you to sit down and enjoy yourself![/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Objectives[/SIZE]
  1. [SIZE=11pt]Sit down and enjoy a drink, catch up with old friends, and try not to blow the damn boat up this time guys![/SIZE]
  2. [SIZE=11pt]Partake in the bartending competition! Yes there’s an actual prize...it’s secret though so, shhhhhh…[/SIZE]
  3. [SIZE=11pt]Watch the bartending competition (and drink the booze).[/SIZE]
  4. [SIZE=11pt]BYOO![/SIZE]
 
Objective: Enjoy the night, drink some drinks, make a fool of herself

Somewhere near the bar

The white-haired woman was nursing her wine all while mingling with the droves of party-goers. She was eagerly awaiting too see who in the Coalition could win this competition.
 

Simone

Guest
S
Somewhere at the back of the club, in one of a dozen dark cubby holes Simone rested with her boots on the table, toe boobing to the beat though her eyes were fixed on the datapad in her hand, eyes running over the report, memorising the important points.

The beat dropped and Simone found her head bobbing along to the music and hefted a sigh. Alright, she clearly wasn’t going to get any serious work done tonight. But then what did she expect? The datapad disappeared into a pocket and cigarillo replaced it. Maybe she’d have a drink or three, maybe she’d go so far as to get involved with the patrons.

Or maybe she’d stay back here, observe and simply enjoy the music.
 
Despite her clothing being mostly white, Sena wound through the dense crowd with an ease of movement. This many people wasn't something that the K'paur loved, but her master had told her to spend some time amongst people. And so here she was, on the outskirts of an eager crowd for a huge bartending competition. The crowd, at the very least wasn't bad. Sure the place is a dime-a-dozen party boat, but it was done up a little nicer than it would normally be and the people were just a smidgen less rowdy.

The drink, which she had just gotten for a "small" price was clutched in her hand, as she sat in an empty chair lined against the wall. The competition should be interesting and she could at the very least enjoy that. Even as she sipped her drink though, Sena's lips remained pressed into a fairly thin line, her displeasure of this place would always override any enjoyment. "Just get on with it," she muttered, eyes locked on the bar. The sooner this was over the better.

[member="Dax Fyre"]
 

Nekana Quane

Guest
N
Whether it was a Zeltron sixth sense, a Force thing, or a finger on the pulse of the backalleys of the galaxy, Nekana had a nose for a party... oh, double entendre. Giggledust made that kind of thing funny as chit, but she wasn't floating on that yet, no sir, not yet. There was a time for a hit, you see, time to do a bump, and that time might come soon, but never soon enough; being in the clear was the pits, but it's... it's... it's all about the timing. Pink flesh and lavender hair, a combination that stood out most anywhere, walked away from the bar and sat her unscrupulous ass down in the same little cubby hole as [member="Simone"]. Close enough for a lap dance, almost; but as a Zeltron, not like most, not like the ones dancing to entertain. She wasn't a showpiece, unless the right thing got in her brain. Her drink sat instantly ignored to the side.

Maybe she wasn't giving this other colourful girl the option of staying a wallflower, fingers laced under her chin, deep purple stare guessing shapes out of the cigarillo smoke. She nipped a side of lip, she wanted a toke. Oh wait, it's just a smoke. Still...

"Mind sharing?"

Words almost bored by length. Why she didn't bring her own, she didn't know. Oh, right. She ran out before she got here. Right. Nek leaned in.

"I can return the favour..."

Lip caught in her teeth, mouth corners upturned, bright eyes.
 

Simone

Guest
S
Simone tilted her head, eyes ran once down and back up again settling upon her new companions gaze as she leaned in closer. Simone took a slow deliberate toke, inhaling deep, before exhaling smoke rings at the lavender lady. She was cute, Simone would give her that, knew it too by the way she behaved. When had she started to read into things so deeply?

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lip.

"I bet you can." she replied, her gaze slipping past her again, watching the rest of the club, feigning disinterest and deciding that she definitely needed to drink tonight. Two pink skinned zeltrons making acquaintance in a cubby hole in a club? Yes this night was going to be messy.

Boots slid off the table as acceptance of this fact sunk in and she leaned in, offering a fresh cigarillo to the girl, silver lighter ready in hand.

"You got a name, sunshine?"

[member="Nekana Quane"]
 
The big man in a pair of big blue overalls walked calmly through the large bar and straight to the refresher. He stopped in front if the mirror as he entered and rolled his sleeves up at the water began to run as the sensor in the wall picked up his presence. He shook his head at his reflection as he stood there looking into alien eyes. He stooped down, pumped soap into his hands and started to scrub off the grease and grime from his ship's engines.

He scrubbed the big callous hands under the steaming water until the old leather tan skin turned a shade of pink and moved to the wall and stuck his hands into recessed dryers. The dryers roared for a moment and he pulled out dry hands.

"Hm," He grunted to himself as he turned away and headed out the door.

His hands, despite his efforts, still looked stained and bruised. Scars of various sizes littered his hands and exposed arms as he walked to the bar and draped his heavy body over a stool. He leaned down, forearms pressed on the cool bar top as he did his best to not look at anyone really.

"Tihaar neat, please." He said to the barman quietly.

"We're having a competition, big man." The bartender said with cheer and charm of a professional entertainer/server, "Can I do something special for ya?"

"Ok," the big fellow said looking up for a second as he tossed a handful of ORC bits onto the counter, "Make two, then."

"Sure, pal."

[member="Sena"] [member="Nekana Quane"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Simone"] [member="Kimiko"]
 
The Reaper of Won Shasot
From a distance, Dax could see two woman with white shocking hair, both of whom he knew quite well. While one towered over either of the them, the shorter of the two sported a pair of fox ears and tails. The Rogue moved through the crowd towards the bar where they both stood, weaving in and out of the myriad of beings that had come to party on this pleasure barge.

When the man reached the bar he wrapped an arm around the waist of the fox-lady and planted a kiss on top her head, "Hey [member="Kimiko"]," he greeted her before nudging his apprentice, "Ey, buck up [member="Sena"], loosen up a bit. This ain't exactly my cup of tea either, but, you may as well enjoy yourself while you have the chance. You've been working hard, you deserve it."

The Rogue signaled the bartender, one of the ones not competing at least, and ordered his signature drink, some good old Correllian Brandy. As he did so, another man, a much larger and gruffer looking man at that note, made his way up to the bar and ordered his own drinks, also looking mildly displeased. The bartender slid Dax his drink as he placed a few credits on the counter. The Rogue took a sip, taking another glance at the man who looked like he'd seen more wars than Dax had years of life in him. If he was ORC, which he certainly looked it, Dax didn't know him, and the Marshall had made it his business to know what went on in the Rim he'd come to love and protect. Gesturing with his cup he asked the two ladies, "Either of you seen that guy before?" Part of what made Dax ask was he was a Judge, and a man covered in scars usually screamed danger, even if they'd left their old lives behind. The other half of him wanted to know the story that clearly made the man who he was today, and then why the feth he'd come to a place where he'd seemed so out of place.

[member="Faeroth Uraan"]
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdfARmdStbM​

It wasn't a party without a Nautolan spinning the jam.

And, really, what was the point to having a bar if not to have a dance floor conveniently next door? Because what went better with drunken escapades than an activity requiring timing, rhythm, and fine motor control?

The small disc jockey was working with a pair of turn tables and a host of multi-colored lights, as the boy remixed current synth-pop and dropped the bass. The volume was cranked up. A pair of headphones resting on his shoulders, where the mass of head-tails fell over and under the headband that circled around the back of his head.

The people of the Coalition listened to good music.

...whether they wanted to or not.
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Upon arriving at the Dancing Bantha, wearing the same black dress she usually wears for social outings of that nature, she spotted two of her past Memory Rub students. She was wondering whether [member="Kimiko"] actually had a chance to use Memory Rub. Or [member="Dax Fyre"], for that matter. I might have presented Memory Rub as a teaching aid, but I think this power is best taught to people that actually intend to teach on a regular basis. Now, I had my misgivings back then before I decided not to infuse Memory Rub on Cass, because I felt she was too raw back then, she thought. But, in these past few weeks, she limited her alcoholic intake, here was an opportunity for her to drink more. And maybe [member="Sena"] would appreciate the ability to infuse knowledge into somebody. Or any of the other FUs present. The question is: was there going to be any Asobi 95% tihaar for sale in there? If not, would there be anybody that would take her up on the Memory Rub lessons? Like [member="Faeroth Uraan"] or [member="Nekana Quane"]? Faeroth was served tihaar, so there was some hope for her getting some tihaar.

"Asobi 95% tihaar please, with carbonated lime juice"
 
Dancing Bantha
Main Engineering

The party made itself inescapable. Mara found this a solid business opportunity.

"So here's the thing," she said, sliding out from a systems console. She laced her fingers behind her head and looked up at the Uukaablian chief engineer. The bass line reverberated through the deck against her shoulders. "It's worse. Between vapors filtered, solids and liquids flushed, and things getting where they shouldn't, your life support system is shot. I can't fix this. One more party, maybe two, and you'll be dead in the water without a replacement."

The craggy-faced Uukaablian grimaced, but her Zeltron empathy told her she wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. "How much?"

"I can get you a used one for five that'll last you a year or two, or I can get you a Chrysalis system for thirteen that'll last you a decade." She sat up and leaned against the console. "You need to check with [member="Dax Fyre"] before you sign off?"
 
"Generally, Dax," she began sounding not quite as cold as she looked, "people take time off to enjoy themselves." She looked at her master and gave him a small grin, which was all she was willing to offer. To someone who had lived their entire life in the presence of only a handful of people at a time. She stood up as the man who Dax had referred to walked up. Sena's height allowed her to take in all of him from down the length of the bar. "No," she said with a sigh. "But I suppose I need something better to do than watch this." The last word rolled out with a hint of belittlement. Looking down at her master she gave him another short grin and left her drink to get closer to [member="Faeroth Uraan"]. I'll keep an eye on him for a bit. He does seem like the strange sort. She thought as she drew near.



[member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | [member="Zak Dymo"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Simone"] | [member="Nekana Quane"] | [member="Kimiko"]
 
Sometimes looking for work put one in odd positions. Cue her time on a large yacht called The Dancing Bantha. Cute name. Weird clientele. Weird tended to have credits and a need for people who wouldn't ask any questions about cargo. Despite this being an ORC event there was no one who was immediately recognizable to herself. Perhaps all the war dogs had retired like herself, drifted off for a life of quiet hermitage.


That had been her plan at one point anyway. Yet plans changed.


Bass reverberated throughout the small space. Gaze caught sight of the DJ ([member="Zak Dymo"] ), a young Nautolan boy clearly in tune with the beat. There was a small smile at the sight, wondering if this would have been a young [member="Xin Boa"] at one point or another, if things had turned out differently in his life.
 
She happily fell into Dax's embrace, taking in the conversation between him and Sena with a faint smile. Her eyes followed the other woman, looking at the aforementioned male and shook her head,"I can't say that I have." she noticed that tone and giggled before taking one last swig of her wine and swiftly placing the glass onto the counter. Ki turned, looking at Dax with wide eyes and an even wider smile,"YOU need a break darling. Come come! Let's go dance a bit! We're here to relax."

The other woman headed off n the man's general direction, Jeeze, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Her hand grabbed onto Dax's and she pulled away from the bar, leading towards the wide open dance floor, giggling the entire way.

[member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Sena"] [member="Faeroth Uraan"] [member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Janick Beauchamp"] [member="Zak Dymo"] [member="Simone"]
 
The Reaper of Won Shasot
[member="Kimiko"]
Dax couldn't help but shake his head at Sena, partly in frustration and amusement, "Fine then! Go amuse!" he called after her before turning his attention to the lovely lady in his arms. He instantly recognized the mischievous look on the woman's face, before she even spoke, "Oh no, no, no, no. Ki I can't dance for shit don't-!" he was cut off by the fox-lady dragging him away from the bar, much stronger than her small stature would indicate, as she gigled all the way.

"Ki!" Dax protested as she finally got him onto the dance floor, "yeah remember the Omega Conflict? All those troopers I fought? Yeah, they died cause they saw how horrendous my dancing was and they couldn't bleach their eyeballs enough." the Rogue half joked. When Dax said he couldn't dance...he meant he REALLY couldn't dance...

[member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"]
The Uukbaalian grunted, or scoffed, it was truly hard to tell, before responding, "I don't know who this fireman guy is, but the owner of this boat is [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"]...stole it from a Hutt from what I hear, you should talk to her...she's...interesting, but she pays us well," he shrugged before walking away to leave Mara to her own devices. It wasn't his problem anymore.
 
The Coalition.


It's where he ended up. It's who was on Manas, and who he somehow managed to get a ride with. Enough of them spoke Huttese for him to pass by. He managed to somehow get on the ship.

All the sights, all the sounds. So alien. So foreign. He felt over-stimulated. He needed to take a moment. He rubbed his hands together nervously, making his way through the party. He eyed a Zeltron, and a human interacting in the other room. He reached out with his sixth sense. He felt them. Pushing. Happiness. Eliciting joy.

And all he felt was...alone.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nz9_kJfZpSY​

Shoulders rolled with the motion.

The small Nautolan started to slide right, then went left. Popping a locking behind the turntables. Raising up one side of the headphones, the boy used his free hand to spin the next track as the song transitioned to a different artist.

His feet shuffled, hips swaying as the young DJ moved with the rhythm that was coming off the speakers.

There was something to be said for being the disk jockey. He got to control the ebb and flow of the music. He controlled the beats, the synth-pop, and how it all came together.

But he was also jealous of the people on the dance floor. Because dance was freedom. It was expression. It was art and life and emotion all given form.
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
"There you go"

Even though Janick got one tablespoon's worth of Asobi 95% tihaar mixed in with about one-third of a cup of carbonated lime juice, she found the taste to be quite different, then again, years of drinking Asobi 95% tihaar on its lonesome, by the tablespoon, made her a different lady as far as drinking booze is concerned. Poodoo: I don't want a repeat of Asop and get too hung over, but I know I can safely drink 10-15 servings of azeotropic goodness before its effects get to me, she thought, before ordering a shooter filled with said azeotropic goodness, which amounts to having three tablespoons of that stuff even Mandos would rather use to degrease or disinfect an engine. Now, she would expect a few eyes rolling at the mention of the word azeotropic, but that she couldn't avoid because one of the main marketing thrusts of the Asobi 95% tihaar was, in fact, the azeotropic nature of the drink and the resulting azeotropic goodness. But she had to make the message clear before she could even drink the shooter filled with the azeotrope...

"Here's your chance to get your azeotropic goodness: the Asobi 95% tihaar, right here, available by the tablespoon!" she shouted in the direction of the other guests.
 
Triam used to be a party animal, you know, when she was young and probably sexy.

Nowadays, she was neither. Not only was she getting a bit old for her liking, but she was also a mother, probably the unsexiest thing she could think of. Not to bash other beautiful mother's out in the galaxy, but at least for herself it did very little to improve her self image. Being too 'large' to fit into armor for not months, but years after giving birth to Cassus was a rather embarrassing period of time for her. Luckily, it allowed her plenty of time to think up some rather unique innovations she hadn't seen anywhere else on the market.

Of course, there was also the case of Crol H'hurut, probably the oldest living thing in the room right now, relatively speaking when it came to lifespans. This was definitely not his scene, but the grumpy forcer had acted as a glorified nanny for the past six years, and Triam thought out of pity it was probably time she gave him a vacation... his first in all their time working together. Cassus was a mature youngster who was intelligent and independent like his mother, and the suite of protocol droids could watch over him for at least one night while Triam tries to get the old geezer to let loose a little.

Drinking made everything better right?

"I can't believe you brought me here..." Was the only thing the old Red Zeltron could manage to say.

"Come on, it can't be that bad old man, just let loose. At least relax if you aren't going to have any fun. They have plenty of bartenders out here trying to prove themselves, you're the grumpy old critic they need to improve themselves!" Triam joked lightly.

"And while you do that, maybe I can find us some work out here, never know where you'll find a good deal." Triam winked and seemed to disappear into the thralls of people, leaving Crol near all the expectant bartenders.

"Chit..."
 
The Reaper of Won Shasot
While the party raged on elsewhere, below decks, the engineering department had come across a small problem. Just as [member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"] had noted, the life support systems were pretty much gone, but at least she had expected them to survive at least one or two more 'events'. Well her estimation was close, but not close enough, the unfortunate party where the systems would begin to go out was theirs.

Gravity was the first to go, those who danced on the floor found themselves suddenly, lifted into the air, while the bartenders found that their drinks they were so meticulously mixing had suddenly began to swim out of their glasses and into the air. Some of the bartenders took this in stride and began to come up with some rather creative ways to stir up drink in the absence of gravity. While some thought this was all just part of the show and continued to party on, other who may or may not know ships a bit better would look on with concern. If life support continued to fail, they'd soon all find that their wasn't quite enough air in space for the lot of them.

Objective Updates;
1) Help restore gravity/get the ship into port.
2) Party on?
 

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