After the End [Open]

[Keter]

Keter swirled the drink in his glass, watching the liquid spin as it was subjected to centrifugal force. The small bits of melting ice were forced up against the edges of the container, clinking slightly, the noise lost amongs the musical notes filling the air. It had been a long time since he had been in a lively cantina. Dis had it's own of course, but it was his home. No one went there that he did not know.

He had taken to the role of a house husband quite well, looking after Felicity and Celeste whilst their mother was off saving the universe. They were growing up so quickly, into such fine girls. No plans of galactic domination from them though. Not yet at least. The blond smiled and shook his head, remembering the words his wife had spoken so many years ago. They had turned out quite prophetic. Still, without the aid of Barnabus and Slevin, he never would have been able to cope. Slevin with his energy to keep the girls entertained, and Barnabus was an asset due to having been a father himself once, long ago. But they were gone now.

Like Rooks.

Keter felt a pang of loss at the thought of the Clone Commander, a man younger than him and yet so much wiser. The Kaminoans knew their trade. The clone army had been magnificent...and it had faded into nothingness. No one knew what they had done. What any of them had done. Except from him. He had started it all, and here he now sat, alone at the end. Oh, he had a family now yes. He had more than he had ever dreamed off. But everything came at a price. And he had paid the blood toll necessary for his happy ending. The problem now was...what now? His story was over, his friends dead and gone. His wife was saving the galaxy, and their daughters would soon join her. Barnabus had taken to travelling in the twilight years of his life, and Slevin was not long for this galaxy.

But what could he do with himself? He had been content, sitting on Immeria, studying anything that caught his fancy. But Feena had caught him and scolded him. He'd changed, aged prematurely. He had become a stuffy old man as Celeste had said. So his fearsome wife had kicked him out the house and ordered him to go off and have an adventure. And he had no memory of how to have one of those anymore.

And so he sat in a small bar on Nar Shadaar, and celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday alone.

He raised the glass to his lips before pausing, smiling softly. He riased it higher, as if in salute, before downing it.

To absent friends.

To Rook, Barnabus, Slevin. To Coryth, Sheena, Tahira, Zandra. To Corven and Kacius. To K-36215. To Felicity and Celeste. To his family. To Feena.

The blond felt the burn of the alcohol as it worked down his throat and waved at the barman to bring him another. He had never truly been drunk before....maybe that would count as his adventure.

 

[Al Gorlock]

He sat on the filthy leather bar stool, taking a quick shot of the strong alcoholic beverage. He let out a quick cough before slowly resting his large, brown cigar back into his mouth. He glared over at [member="Keter"], laughing. He didn't have a clue why he felt an urge to chuckle but it happened, it was loud as well. He received looks from the patrons of the bar, looking like a third arm was growing out of Al's stomach. He ignored it, returning his gaze to Keter. He headed over to the man, grinning at him, revealing his rotten teeth. "Hello, mind if I take a seat?" He asked, clearing his throat as only his raspy voice was heard. He now just kept his gaze on the man, awaiting an answer.

 

[Keter]

The voice broke into this thoughts, making him turn his head to focus his glowing red eyes on the man who had approached. Still, nothing could dampen his mood so he waved at the chair with a smirk. "Feel free good sir," he offered to [member="Al Gorlock"]. He felt like adding that he was a married man, but the figure was tall, imposing, and looked like a business man of some sort. Probably not in the mood for wiseass comments. As a man who had run his operation, Keter knew a fair bit about uppity attitudes and how they could prove quite unwelcome when trying to relax over a drink.

 

[Al Gorlock]

He slowly pulled out a bar stool, climbing in, sighing. "Man, I ain't got time for nothin' no more", He said to [member="Keter"]. "You see, I always didn't look like a freak...", He began to chuckle, very loudly. "You see, I solve problems for a living. Well, I like to think of myself as a problem eliminator", He grinned once more, slowly extinguishing his cigar in the nearby ash tray. "By the way, the name is Al...Al Gorlock, that is", He declared, slowly reaching into his trench coat. He removed a small, white business card, lying it in front of the man. "Al Gorlock, professional bodyguard and mercenary", the card read in all black lettering. "What brings you out on this awful night?" He asked.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Keter]

Keter half turned his head to keep the man in his sight as he spoke. It was only polite to pay attention when someone spoke to you after all. The blond nodded along to the man's words, finding them strangely close to his own thoughts, though far less morose. He tensed up instictively when the man reached into his coat, and relaxed when a business card came out. The blond renegade took the item and glanced over it, committing it to memory. "Well Mr Gorlock, your lack of reputation precedes you," Keter said with a polite smile.

He had dealt with mercenaries before, and had never heard of the man. Which meant aliases, and being good enough not to be caught. He doubted Al Gorlock was his real name either. "Tough job, being a bodyguard. I tried it once, never did develop the patience necessary," he sighed, raising his glass in salute to the man, waving for the barman to bring another. "And as for my business...well, I suppose you could say something boring and mundane, totally unlike the woes of a man such as yourself," he added with a grin. How long had it been since he had had alcohol again?

[member="Al Gorlock"]

 

[Al Gorlock]

"You see, when I get angry with clients they mysteriously...disappear. It is rather strange, as if someone shares my feelings, you know? Then they end up in a dumpster a few years later, rotting and decaying, quite tragic", He said, hoping that the blonde understood what he meant. He was not entirely happy with the man's attitude, not even a little. "Tell me, do you wonder what it would be like...no one knowing what happend to you? Not knowing your identity when your corpse is retrieved...man, that would be tough on someone's family", Al said, doing his best to conseal a wicked grin. He slid the card across the table and back to him before he slid it back into his coat.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth sat a few empty bar-stools down, nursing a drink of questionably safety. Reactor core, they called it. A seriously heavy drink. One that induced hallucinations. Or was supposed to, anyways. He'd never had any before. That probably meant he needed to drink even more of them, although he had a suspicion that would be a flight impairment. So, he settled in not doing that.

Making someone disappear? He turned towards the two, staring with slight confusion at the man who apparently had no skin on his skull. That was unusual. "You a magician then..." He frowned, not pleased with the way it sounded, and tried again, "You're a magician?" Better. Slightly. So be it.

 

[Al Gorlock]

"Magician? Far from it, very far. You see, I don't know why or how they disappear. Can you imagine joining them? That would be rather awful", He said, grinning at @Roth Tillian. "You see, I eliminate problems...if clients become problems...they disappear. Well, if anyone causes problems, they disappear", He said, his grin slightly fading. "You see, I didn't always used to look like a freak, so if your disturbed by that, I apoligize. You see, hot chemicals don't mix well with someone's skin", He said.
@Roth Tillian

 

[Keter]

Keter sighed as the mood turned sour. "I see," he said, inclinging his head towards [member="Al Gorlock"]. "That is most unfortunate. Such poor job security...have you ever considered just being a bounty hunter instead? Same skill set, no need to grovel at some entitled fool's shoes," he suggested, sipping his next drink. "And to be frank I'm kind of living that at the moment. Then again we can't all be holo-stars," Keter continued with an easy smile and a rueful shake of his head. "Barman, a drink for this fine man."

"I don't think you look like a freak. Personally, I wouldn't mind being a grim faced spectre of terror. Sets a bold statement. Memorable too."

 

[Al Gorlock]

He took the whiskey bottle from the barman, sighing. "I prefer to keep my current occupation. I prefer to stay in a single planet, not chasing people through the galaxy. Besides, it ain't cheap to make those business cards. It costs two-hundred credits to edit 'em and fifty credits per word edit", He said, chuckling. "To the galaxy!" He said, raising his whiskey bottle into the air, waiting to see what the man would do.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Keter]

Keter laughed and raised his glass along with the man. "To the galaxy," he chorused before drinking, letting his gaze flicker over to the poor drunken soul one seat over, one [member="Roth Tillian "]. "You alright there?" he asked with a nod of his head.

 

[Al Gorlock]

He quickly finished the shot, slamming the shot glass down onto the counter. He laughed some more, before pointing to the bottle of whiskey on the counter. The bartender nodded, pouring him a shot and sliding it over. He quickly drank this, as well, still grinning. "So, your claiming all us mercanaries do is grovel at someone's boots?" He asked.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth looked over to [member="Keter"] and grinned, raising his glass unsteadily. " Course am. Even drunk, I'll outfly nearly every other star jockey to sit in a cockpit." He frowned slightly, seeming a bit confused. "So,entires O fly better drunk than I do sober."

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Shargon had floated in equipped with his cloak, though it covered his gaseous Filar-Nitzan body there wasnt much to look at. A standing grey hooded robe filled with black smoke that was his appearance with two medium sized eyes in the hood that glew in the cantina. Cantina's usally were full of freaks so Shargon fit right in. As he floated over to the bar to take a seat black smoke left his body leaving a trail that quickly disappeared. Apon sitting down in an empty seat shaping his gaseous body to sit he rested his robe and arms on the counter having some look at the blob of smoke that was a hand for him.

Shargon'Ta smiled sitting the chair by some other characters.

@Roth Tillian
[member="Al Gorlock"]
@Keter

 

[Keter]

Keter laughed. "Of course not. It's a live of adventure and self-employment! We choose our jobs, and our pay! And sometimes, we do whatever we want just becuase we can!" he stated with a grin, waving at the bartender to pour him some of that whiskey too. "A round for my new friends here," he added with a nod along the bar, noting that some evil-looking fellow wrapped in an evil-looking cloak had joined them at some point. The blond tilted his head in greeting and smile before turning to the drunken star pilot. "I've heard such tales, helps you focus and removes distractions, right?" he asked [member="Roth Tillian "].

[member="Shargon'Ta"]
[member="Al Gorlock"]

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth considered the words, sorting through them, and then shrugged. "You could put it that. Reflexes are slightly faster. Can't fly straight, makes it harder to hit." Slightly faster reflexes. Barely noticeable really, given he had already home the reflexive sense of the force sensitivity down, until he barely even controlled his actions while flying. Most was instinctual and Force directed.

[member="Keter"]

 

[Al Gorlock]

"Man, I-" He was interrupted as a loud voice blared through his wrist-mounted communicator. He quickly held the communicator up to his lips, speaking rather quickly. "Darlin' I ain't got no time at the moment! I am busy...working! Y-yeah, I'm at work", He said, quickly ending the transmission. "Sorry 'bout that", He mumbled, taking another shot.