Boy Meets Galaxy

[Yula Perl]

Avi loved Tanquilla Beach, mostly because being aboard the station made him feel like a real swashbuckling rogue. The young man had plenty of credits to spend, though they weren’t earned on some daring treasure heist, but rather a stipend given to him by his parents. They’d sent him out to see the galaxy and hopefully become more cultured, thus staying up to date on the rise of technology as their homeworld modernized. Make connections, they’d said. Join this Galactic Alliance and put your abilities to good use.

All Avi had really accomplished thus far was exactly what he’d done at home—buy things he didn’t need and schmooze it up with the local ladies.

He’d made himself comfortable at the bar, trying to chat up a pretty Twi’lek pilot who seemed mildly amused but kept snarkily rebuffing his advances. Avi was not deterred, especially given that he’d already bought her three drinks.

No matter how hard he tried, he just didn’t look the part he was trying to play. His clothes were too new, too clean. His face? Too pretty from not being punched.

"Would you look at the time," The Twi'lek checked the chronometer at her wrist in a voice bordering on monotone. "Sorry kid, I've gotta head out. Cargo won't haul itself." With a tight smile, she excused herself.

"No worries baby, call me alright? You still got my number?" He called after her with a winning smile.

[member="Runi Verin"]

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Aviel"]

The Black Wire cantina thrummed with an almost comforting familiarity. A seemingly irrepressible relaxed ambiance that belied the troubles that had been afflicting the station in recent months since the Bloodtooth had wrestled control of the station away from it's previous administrator. A transition made in particular Outer Rim fashion, namely with blasters and vibroblades. It had taken weeks before an uneasy peace had finally been brokered, putting an end to the almost endless stream of bodies cluttering up the streets and side avenues.

Conflict would erupt sooner or later, that much was a given. You could escape gravity, but you could never escape the violence. For now, however, they could all simply enjoy the finer pleasures in life. Good food, good booze and... Well, the music was admittedly terrible, but two out of three wasn't all that bad.

"Rashiz, another round sometime this century, 'lek?" Runi yelled as she stole the recently vacated seat left behind by the rapidly departing Twi'lek, sparing the man beside her a cursory-if-dismissive glance before letting an amused snort escape her. She prided herself on being able to get a good read on a sentient in fairly short order. The man beside her, the pretty boy with the soft hands and even softer clothes, was neither complex or difficult to assess. Just another rich boy dilettante with dreams of thrilling adventures and daring-do, lacking for nothing save for the distinct common sense to know this wasn't the place you wanted to find such things. "Ah, kark it. I'll take whatever mesh'troan here was trying to creep Lianna with. Ain't like she's gonna come back for it anytime soon."

The salvager reached over and swiped the glass out from before him, not even feigning an attempt to be thankful or even apologetic for her lack of grace as she knocked back. Grimacing only slightly at the sickly sweet liquid that assaulted her senses. Tapani Honeyed Wine. Ugh. That settled it, man was beyond saving.

"Second thought, I'll take that round." She muttered, tossing the glass haphazardly back in the aforementioned pretty boy's direction, "If nothing else it'll clean the taste of that osik out."

 

[Yula Perl]

Avi blinked as the young woman next to him leaned over and snatched the abandoned drink, downing part of its contents. He opened his mouth to say something—clever, maybe?—but before that, she’d rejected the sweet drink and sent it back his way. He caught the glass with a slight fumble, liquid sloshing up against the rim.

Avi blinked again. Then he smiled, slow and cocky.

“I’ll get that round.” He declared, raising a finger to the bartender who snorted in amusement. He’d watched the young man get rejected three times over the past hour or so but he wasn’t going to stop the generous flow of credits. Avi was unused to being rejected so often, then again this was his first time trying to pick up women who were used to a rougher crowd. There was a lot less giggling and eyelash batting than he was used to.

Turning towards Runi, he sent her a charming, bastard-esque smile. “You know, where I’m from—I’m a Prince.” Not really. Like, not at all. Manas was wholly an unremarkable world with unfriendly natives so your average person didn’t know much about it. It also didn’t have a monarchy, so Avi banked on the fact that no one knew anything about his homeworld.

Besides, in a galaxy like this? Royalty was a dime a dozen.

“How’d you like to be my princess for the night, babe?”

Wink.

[member="Runi Verin"]

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Avi Soltani"]

The shear audacity of that line caused the salvager to freeze mid-acceptance of her new beverage, hand hovering almost aimlessly at the half-way point as it was simply blindsided by the utter disbelief that was presently welling up within its owner. There was an understandable pregnant pause. A momentary lull that saw the rest of the bar fade from view as she tried to process what he'd just said. Each word filtering through one at a time, being clinically dissected and subsequently evaluated in the vein hope that there was perhaps some other meaning in there.

Her qukuuf marked features frozen in an expression that was part confusion, part good old fashioned disgust and perhaps a tiny sliver of begrudging admiration that he'd been able to deliver... whatever the kark that was... with a much straighter face than she could manage to maintain in that instance. She'd known he was a creep, but that took it to a whole new level. How did one even begin to react to something like that?

Ah, of course. She was Runi Verin and there really was only ever going to be one way.

"As much as you'd like to be a geldin', I'd wager." She remarked, effecting an expression that was paradoxically a smile yet decidedly not at all. There was a silvery flash of tempered zersium to underscore her point, her nightbrother fighting knife appearing with a practiced flick of the wrist to dig deep into the stretch of bar that lay between them. The knife quivering slightly from the impact. It might have earned her a disapproving glance from Rashiz, but it was worth it to regain some sense of herself after such a greasy, underhanded verbal attack. "But just say the word an' it can be arranged, 'lek?"

 

[Yula Perl]

One of two things usually happened after he dropped the princess line—well, three if you count the university student from Atrisia who snidely informed him that Manas didn’t have a monarchy. Anyway, they either fell for it (rarely) or threw their drink at him, slapped him, even been punched in the face once.

Never had a knife pulled out on him though.

Avi’s eyes went wide as the metallic flash buried itself a good few inches into the wood countertop he was leaning on. Both hands were brought up in front of him as a yielding gesture and for a few moments he couldn’t find the words to respond.

Partially because he didn’t understand some of what she was saying, but mostly because that could have been his skull.

“Woah. Sorry there miss, came on too thick huh?” He reflexively wanted to call her princess but that would have just made matters worse. Avi had dumb tendencies but he did not have a death wish.

Putting down his hands, the tanned man took a sip from his beer and eyed the young woman from the side. She may have just almost carved him open but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intrigued.

“Never been shot down like that before. Props for creativity.” He tipped his glass in a mock salute while wearing something of a half-smile. Less cocky this time around. “Nice knife you’ve got there.”

[member="Runi Verin"]