Ain't you just a ray of sunshine

[Kip Radon]

The Mos Eisley Cantina, where our friends don't like you, and we don't like you either. Kip Radon Sith Acolyte turned dark Jedi was wondering the galaxy and his travels had brought him to this dusty little planet, at this sandy city, in this particular den of scum and villainy. Stepping into the bar wearing thick canvas shirt and pants with protective cloth and goggles wrapped around his face the man came in from the sandstorm outside and looked over at the scene in front of him, a bith band playing some song, a Hutt here, a Rodian there, scum of the galaxy, his people, the prodigal son has returned.

Walking up to the bar the man awkwardly took off his red tinted goggles and set them to the side. He then slowly unraveled the cloth around his face to reveal his disconnected features and face. With uncaring eyes he looked up at the bartender and spoke in a very low tone that was almost a mumble with the thick accent that his little slice of Corellia had.

"Whiskeh, and throw in a lil splash ah honeh." The man said in thick accent.

The bartender nodded and soon produced his order. The drink was placed in front of him and he casually palmed his hand around it. Taking his other hand he ran it through his thick black hair and would quietly sit and enjoy his drink.

[member="Jalek Sathora"]

 

[Jalek Sathora]

The whirlwind that had encapsulated Jalek's life throughout the entirety of the previous years had ground to a halt after the end of his previous relationship with one Cryax Bane. Leaving the man was a decision that still sent a pang of regret flashing through his gut, but he realized at the same time that it had been for the best. There was nothing more to be gleaned from that relationship other than devastation and perhaps even death if he stuck around long enough, neither of which he was all too keen on experiencing. Life after the split had quickly returned to what had been typical beforehand, a string of odd jobs here and there supplying him with a steady enough income, there being nothing more of note to tell.

Tatooine had provided him with nothing more than another share of credits, the assignment he had been given only just finished. A whiskey sat on the table in front of him nearly untouched, booted fit kicked up, ripped jeans tucked haphazardly into them, a tanktop hanging loosely from his form. An unlit cigarette perched at the corner of his mouth, its presence there nothing more than habitual at this point. The faint glow of his datapad illuminated his face from where he sat alone at his table, jade eyes focused entirely on the task at hand. Eventually the screen dimmed to nothing, the piece of technology instead laying on the tabletop, having worn out its purpose for the moment. Something else would come along soon enough, no doubt.

Palming his lighter he finally lit the cigarette, tucking the device back into his pocket, exhaling a cloud of smoke and glancing about the famed Mos Eisley Cantina. A new face had made himself at home at the bar, and he studied the other man for a moment before allowing his gaze to drift across the other denizens present. Now that his work was all said and done he didn't have much else to do other than wait out the sandstorm currently raging outside before boarding the next transport off-planet. Where his next destination might have been not even he knew, but so long as it was away from here he couldn't complain overly much. At this point he just wanted something more interesting with which to occupy his time.

[member="Kip Radon"]

 

[Kip Radon]

[member="Jalek Sathora"]

Now it had been a week and a half since Kip had gotten laid, and in Kip time that might as well of been a hundred years. Scanning the bar he looked around for various bar sluts and trim that could not take home to meet mom but rather the back room of the Catina they were in. However upon first glance all women were either too alien or shacked up with some bounty hunter, and if there was one rule that Kip had it was never to pay/fight for a piece of ass. A little disappointed by this he took a sip of his honey accented whiskey and took one last look around in hopes of finding something to hit, quit, then never speak to or make contact with again in this life or the next.

But upon second glance the man saw a rather cute looking redhead sitting in a booth, and even better he had saw him, so the connection was made. Like a predator stalking its prey the man grabbed his drink and began to smoothly walk over towards the man with a very firm look of intent on his face. Once at the table, Kip looked down at the skinny little red head smoking a cigarette and spoke in his smooth yet near incoherent Corellian accent.

"Well aren't you just array ah sunshine inah otherwise bleak world." Kip said as he sipped his whiskey.

"I seen yah eyeballin me from cross the bar, lookin at me" and without asking Kip took a seat across from the man.

"Thank I'm pretteh, do ya?"

Kip would then give a detached smile and palm his whiskey before taking another drink. He'd get this guy to be his whether he knew it or not yet, the moment he returned his gaze the man was his.

 

[Jalek Sathora]

As soon as the man approached Jalek gave him a once-over, nothing more than a general assessment of his appearance. Then a second time, in order to discern any weaponry or anything else of note, a habit picked up from being raised by a gang on Taris. And finally a third, because, well, because he could. After that handful of seconds passed the man invited himself to take a seat, and all he could do was laugh quietly at the words spoken, a cloud of smoke briefly obscuring his features as he took the cigarette between middle and forefinger, exhaling. This brought him back to when he used to live on Taris, where sometimes people approached him just like this, with only one thing in mind.

It never worked out for them.

This one was no different. That same aura of danger accompanied him, and the way he walked spoke of a surety he didn't altogether like. Because the Morellian wasn't as submissive as others took him to be at first glance. He was more than able to take care of himself, and he sure as hell wasn't as easy a catch as most seemed to think. There was only a single man he had ever cared about enough to truly devote himself to, and that period of his life was come and gone. It was back to one night stands and flings that never lasted for more than a few weeks, which is what this man seemed to be on the lookout for. Still, he did have this thing called standards.

"Talk is cheap."

[member="Kip Radon"]