Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Bright Lights, Bigger City [Open Club Thread]

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Blush had been a staple of the Indigo District for as long as anyone could remember. The Zeltros club was situated in the capital city’s poorest area, attracting a certain crowd that grew bored with the high end, luxury establishments that lined the city’s more touristy districts. That crowd was a bit rougher than most, and the typically found that Blush suited their needs. It was a little more industrial than your typical nightclub, but was just as colorful. Neon lights twirled and flashed and heavy bass thrummed deep into the permacrete foundation as scantily clad Zeltron waitresses cut through the sea of bodies on the dance floor with an acquired grace. Shady looking characters were all around, eyeing up the pretty candy on stage and off.

It was probably the ever-present pheromone cloud that kept the brawls at bay.

One of the girls on stage “lost” her top, inciting an uproar of predatory cheering from the onlookers. Joza’s lips curved around the lit cigarette in her mouth as she watched the show from the second floor, leaning on the railing by her forearm. Security was particularly tight on the weekends, managing to blend into the general populace well enough to not raise anyone’s nerves. It hadn’t always been this way—but it had one Joza acquired the nightclub. Blush had a certain ambiance, a specific charm that kept people coming back. While Zeltros did have laws in place against the sale and use of spice, they were rather lax and often blatantly ignored. At Blush, the spice flowed as freely as it did on Nar Shaddaa.

Blush was the last place she’d worked at before leaving Zeltros for some time and haphazardly throwing herself in the galaxy. Joza imagined she might return one day as a failure, ready to pick up her old life from where she’d left off. Never did she imagine that she’d come back to outright buy the establishment. While purchasing a seedy nightclub wasn’t really something to write home to mother about (unless your mother was Yula Perl), it was somewhat of a victory to her. Maybe it would have been symbolic if she cared for symbolism.


(OOC: Feel free to drop into the thread at any point! I’m tagging those from the interest check, but you don’t need a tag to join. Security will be on hand to break up any fights that get too rough and though this club is raunchy, I’m going to ask y’all to refrain from whipping your sabers out. If you’re planning on doing something that would greatly impact the thread, please shoot me a pm beforehand so we can work things out.)

[member="Slevin Thawne"] [member="Hazel Zanteres"] [member="Mishel Ren"] [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] [member="Mason"] [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Grace Darkson"] [member="Tyraan Fell"] [member="Tokrin Lunelle"] [member="Ara Ren"] [member="Darlyn Excron"] [member="Guz McGarion"] [member="Aria Vale"] [member="Darth Imperia"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]
 
"No, my dear, not this place!"

"John, I want to go there!"

"My rose, let's go to a restaurant or a nice inn."

"I'm going with or without you, John."

"Bah, go in then, by thunder!"

A couple was outside the entrance of Blush in what seemed to be a heated argument. Long John Trenway was with the missus at Zeltros while she visited her parents. Tonight was supposed to be a date night. But, heaven help him, she wanted to go into a nightclub. And not just any nightclub, oh, no, it had to be that particular seedy one that was probably a front for a whorehouse or some other nonsense.

The Zeltron woman stormed in the club. Long John debated internally whether or not to just let her go in there by herself. His days of dancing about and making a fool of himself on too much rum were long over. Security looked spic and span, too, from what the seasoned pirate could see. He didn't even notice half of the guards until he had actively searched for them. More than likely, the missus would be safe. But he couldn't let her alone still. It was his duty as a husband to ensure nothing happened to her.

"Oh, blast me for a fool! I'm a'comin', darlin'!"

Without hesitation, the tall cyborg moved forward with haste, lest he have a change of heart. Upon entering Blush, he wish he did. All sorts of haphazard shenanigans were going on, from a scantily clad Zeltron woman 'pretending' to lose her top to a crew of teenagers hopped up on spice who appeared to be having strokes in the middle of the dance floor. While Long John was busy gawking around, pondering to himself on what the devil encouraged people to go to places like this, his wife disappeared into the crowd.

"Zilka? Zilka, darlin'? Where are ya?"

It was no use. The music was deafening. By the stars, those speakers were louder than some cannons Trenway had heard before. With a resigned sigh, the pirate felt his rapidly approaching old age set in. While pirating and hacking his way across a ship to plunder it was fine for him, this clubbing lifestyle was pure malarkey. It catered to youngsters who were too soft to go out and get a real high from the rush of battle, the victory of cutting your foe down, and the greed of treasure plundered from your well-executed betrayal. No matter. He'd wait around, keep an eye, or two, on the missus, and then collect her when it was time to retire. John took a seat towards a booth in the back that was mostly empty, save for an unconscious Rodian, whom the seasoned pirate pulled out of his chair and laid down gingerly on the floor. He crossed his arms in his resting spot and observed, still trying to find where his wife had gone in the sea of people...

[member="Joza Perl"]
 

Guz McGarion

Net Worth: 999999999999999999999999999999999999999
There was nobody to stop the Intergalactic Super Criminal and the elf Proclaimed 'Handsomest Man in the Galaxy' from attending the great party held in the renowned Zeltros Club Blush, but he knew there wuld be one or two characters who wouldn't hesitate for the chance to stop him from leaving. And he laughed at that. Anybody who had two halves of a brain would know that would be an unwise idea.

Guz McGarion stepped into the club in all of his glory, wearing a flamboyant gown coloured bright blue and lined with fine gems and feathers. His goggles, however, were on his forehead, beneath long grey hair. He chuckled as he took in the ecstatic atmosphere; the beautiful women, the smell of booze and lust, the feeling of danger and possibility of being caught if he were found. Which he counted on. Though he wouldn't be caught, for sure.

He stroked the cheek of a passing Zeltron waitress who blushed into his soft fingers, before he stepped upon the stairs that lead to the second level. He was hoping to run into the owner of the establishment; whether they'd know him or not, so he could have a chat. And because he'd heard rumours of how beautiful she was. And any beautiful Zeltros Club owner would have to be incredible in more ways than the business end of deals. He chuckled to himself as he stepped foot onto carpet and looked amongst the guests who had sent their eyes his way. One or two whispered to each other at the familiarity they seemed to have for the newly appeared being, but nobody made a move for their weapins or such.

They'd know who he was, surely. Hell, he had a poster of himself hanging up outside the club. But for them to not raise a weapon either meant he was walking into a trap, or someone had given them orders to not pursue him or anybody at this shindig. He put his money on the latter.

And there, leaning on the rails of the party and taking in the sight, was the owner herself, no doubt surrounded by bodyguards as such. The attention he caused would probably get her own attention. He hoped so, anyway; he wanted to chat up the lovely woman in charge.

[member="Joza Perl"]
 
It’d been four days and counting since he last slept. His eyes were heavy, slight bags forming under each while his neck and chest had their own fair share of love marks; each a beautiful shade of purple and red in the right lighting. He’d never experienced such a magnificent place before, the lights, the women, the freedom.

Some might say he lost himself in those moments, the ones where you couldn’t remember where you were or who you were with. The days you wake up in beds surrounded by people you can’t remember, or the nights that the memories fade into a singular instance of smoking a death stick. His memory of the last three weeks had become nothing more than a Jackson Pollock painting, with every color one could imagine blending themselves into an even more vibrant and endlessly complex image.

As he shook off his recent fight in The Pit, a gruesome encounter he nearly lost, he stood in the center of a dance floor surrounded by a number of other patrons. Men and women grinded against him, and vice versa as he fell deeper into his drug binge, yet remained just in control enough to seem at least half as sober as he actually was; a curious event considering his rather rookie status amongst such a crowd.

The greatest oddity about him was the rampant surges of energy that came off his person… Anyone sensitive would notice it. Subtle at first, but it was continuous like the ocean in high tide. It drew people who couldn’t sense it to him, and to those who were sensitive to at least notice where he was. Though, whether he was doing it on purpose or not was up to debate.

Eventually, he found his way off the floor for a moment of relaxation. His feet carried him in a trance up the stairs, a black cigarette pulled from an inner pocket and rested in his lips. It rested their, ignited in only another moment by a lighter he kept in another pocket. Smoke rolled off his skin as he made it to the second floor, the dim lights shrouding his figure, but not his aura.

Something caught his attention however… A figure, surrounded by guards. Her pink skin dimmed, but her sensation intoxicating. Her form was blurred, but attractive... He had to speak to her.

And so he tried.

With a sly grin, he made his way to the guards that surrounded her, his tone just low enough to be heard over the booming bass and crowds loud murmur. A voice so teasing, he hoped it’d at least garner some of her attention from the various crowds.

Excuse me, I’m here on business. Perhaps impromptu, but me and the Miss-”, he said with a motion to [member="Joza Perl"], “- had business we needed to discuss.

His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, a faint green riddled with golden aspects. He turned them from the guard, to the vixen before them, patiently waiting.

[member="John Trenway"] │ [member="Guz McGarion"]
 
Leilani walked in the very air of the club spoke to how many zeltrons were there. Leilani looked about to see if she spotted old friends, old indeed that would need to be. A zeltron male found his way to her side as she pushed further into the club. The zeltron wore the black dress that she loved. Many of her fellow zeltrons liked neon, and liked to be exposed. And why not zeltrons were athletic, competitive, made people feel good so why shouldn't they dress how they liked.

"Leilani" he knew her name, she looked over at him, "I don't recall your name" she whispered. He leaned closer, "I'm hurt you don't remember." Leilani put her hand onto his shoulder she felt the muscle cord beneath her touch. "Don't fret about it, if I don't find someone else to keep me company I'll find you, and then you can remind me."

She walked away the tiny heels of her shoes seen but not heard on the floor above the music.

Leilani again looked about the club was full, spice was flowing, and pheromones were every where. Leilani headed for towards the bar she would get her first drink and begin to mingle about. She did not know what she would find but find it she would.
 
"Mmmm" Malcolm pleasantly hummed to himself as an attractive female Zeltron brushed against him with a smile. Slowly a smile was returned in kind. Tilting his shades down some he took a glass from her tray and departed into the crowds attempting to keep his new drink from spilling. There was a slight grace to his movements, they were free and humble. He smelt of dry dirt and that bothered him little.

With a deep inhale of air Malcolm stopped and blinked hard. Seduction itself was in the air and was very hard to resist. It felt good to his senses causing him to relax greatly. In some areas it was stronger than others and he knew why. Zeltrons were always a spectacle to behold. Sheer and utter beauty.

" Stay for while.. I think i will." he uttered and took a sip of his exotic beverage. A explosion of flavor over took him.

Wonder-bar.

[member="The Slave"]
[member="Guz McGarion"]
[member="John Trenway"]
[member="Joza Perl"]
 
Viktor had some time to cut back and relax before getting his first Fleet assignment. Being a man of reasonable means and questionable morals he ended up on Zeltros in the Indigo District at a place called Blush.

The sharp dress new graduate of the Academy strolled into the club taking a looking around as he straightened his tie. It seemed he was fashionably late and the party was in full swing. Making his way over to the bar Viktor ordered a drink. Taking a sip of it he looked around. For the moment the ratio of women to men was not to his liking. He noticed [member="Leilani Paaie"] in a black dress encouraging all kinds of naughty thoughts. He made a mental note to possible snag her attention later.

After a minute Viktor began to mingle passing near and around several small groups of party goers. Spice was something his job would not allow him to partake in but it's presence really had no effect on him. A party was a party after all.

Viktor continued to push his way through the crowd an occasion hand attached to a lovely lady reaching out towards him. Each time he would smile letting their fingers dance across his arm as he kept moving.

The night was still young and it was too early to put down claims. There would be plenty of time for that later.

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="John Trenway"] [member="Guz McGarion"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Malcolm Akintola"]
 
Kaiden Rohn. Sergeant Rohn. Commander Rohn. This guy. That guy. Commando. Elite. Shock trooper. Republic commando. The trooper. The best of the best. He was a lot of these things, these things he had been, or was. But right now, in this club, he was- drunk. He rubbed his face. His tattooed hands played across his worn facial features. He didn't look like the young, happy people in the crowd. He was a 30-something hard-nosed, scarred-up soldier type. That much was obvious. That, and the Republic emblem tattooed on his hand gave him away to anyone who had any sort of smarts about them.

The smoke in his hand, wasn't spice- but the same effect took over. His eyes went around the club. He was a trained killer, it was hard to even remotely put away the ticks that he had picked up. His eyes went high, locking onto the woman who predator-like leaned over and was watching the club below. Little did he know, that it was [member="Joza Perl"] herself. Not that he would know the name anyway. Kaiden looked around the bar again, going far outwards. [member="Viktor Alexander"] was handling ladies as he went across the floor. If it weren't for the scars on his face, he might've been able to do the same. [member="Malcolm Akintola"] looked out of place. Too out of place. [member="The Slave"] caught his eye. The kid looked tired. Kaiden blinked and took a drag on his cigarette. He was starting to sober up. The kid was bee-lining for the predator-leaning lady.

She had to be important.

Or he really wanted to bump uglies with her and her alone.
 

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
He'd made it out before. Out of the debt, out of the violence - or at least he thought he'd made it. The grizzled man looked up briefly from the bottle in front of him, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his lips as his fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. For a fraction of a second, everything wasn't as it seemed - he was back on Nar Shaddaa, clutching the neck of a Rodian. Blinking hard once - twice - the bottle found its way towards the crystaline tumbler on the table.

Denn Ralto.

His name resounded in his ears, the memories of the past fading with the gentle slosh of liquor and clink of glass bottle on the edge of his cup. Tipping it back over, he set the bottle down. Why was he here? Even he didn't know - not really. Was it because he missed his home on Nar Shaddaa? He'd practically jumped for joy the first time he made it free of the crime bosses there but here he was - and while Blush might not have been on Nar Shaddaa, it was plenty a familiar feel.

With an amused glance at the rowdy shouts as the show went on, he reached out to the glass, knocking back the amber liquid in a swift motion. Eyes closed, he felt the liquor burn its way down his esophagus and into his stomach - bitter taste something he'd acquired a hankering for. It was a welcome distraction to what he knew was coming - war was brewing, between two of the most powerful political bodies in the galaxy - which meant an increase in smuggling. Denn was good at his trade, it was part of why he'd been able to make ends meet, everyone loved a good smuggler. Whether it was minerals, cargo, information, people... Nothing was beyond the man and his morality had taken a downturn over the last year. Faced with choices he'd rather not have made, sometimes life had a way of getting to people. Gritting his teeth and moving onward had been the manner in which Denn had dealt with it. And the Whiskey.
 

Hazel Zanteres

The Angel/Devil on your Shoulder
This wasn't Hazel's first time on Zeltros, nor was it when it came to Club Blush either. But it was the first time she had been directly invited to a party there.

When she and Joza had last spoken, the Zeltron had brought up the idea of it and suggested the doctor should come. Hazel had been rather hesitant about it at first, as she was content just having that moment of peace to chat and drink. Ultimately it was left up in the air with Hazel conceding that she would think on it. That was promptly followed by another workload taking up Hazel's time, which did push her towards making a decision. Though it did mean she was never able to give Joza a heads up that she would be at the party.

So maybe it would come as a surprise - or maybe not, when Hazel arrived at Club Blush. As she stepped into the establishment; the heels of her shoes clicked away beneath the music, she slipped the coat off revealing the blue dress she was wearing. It fit her perfectly, accenting all the right curves on the Hapan and leaving enough skin to tantalize any admirers. Her blonde hair that was usually held up in a bun or ponytail was let loose, pristinely kept and swept over her right shoulder. It was obvious she had done this before, utilizing her Hapan genes to the fullest. Albeit with the lack of her people's usual superiority complex.

As Hazel began walking, she gazed around eventually settling her eyes up towards the second floor. She caught the eyes of Joza and sent the Zeltron a coy smile, wondering what her reaction would be. Tonight she was certainly not Doctor Zanteres, she was simply Hazel; looking to completely unwind for the night.

With her coat held over her right arm and the strap of her small bag resting on her left shoulder, Hazel carved a confident stride through the throng of people that were all around. She moved with a sway of her hips, her hands only coming up to stop anyone trying to already get too grabby. Though it was in the form of slight touches of her hand, teasing the person as she brushed past. Hazel couldn't help but show a satisfied smirk at the attention being directed her way. It was the only time she was glad to be the one that stuck out amongst a crowd.

She made her way through and up to the second floor, fully intending to at least greet a familiar face to start off the night. After that, then she'd go about seeing if she could familiarise herself with the unknowns that had already arrived.

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="John Trenway"] | [member="Guz McGarion"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Leilani Paaie"] | [member="Malcolm Akintola"] | [member="Viktor Alexander"] | [member="Kaiden Rohn"] | [member="Denn Ralto"]​
 

Sydney Ramek
Zeltros, Indigo District, Blush

Sydney flicks through messages on the wrist-mounted personal data device, a thick haze of smoke wafts through the air Sydney heaves up some of the thick cloud of pheromones up through her nostrils. The omnipresent thud that ripples up through the soles of her leather steel-capped boots passes Sydney's consciousness without consequence as does the crackle of Zeltron music, Sydney's ocean-blue spheres rise up for a moment and peer around the nightclub's interior with a small smile rising across thin pursed lips. Lips quiver, Sydney reaches forward with right-hand and brings back the glass of milk towards herself easing back into glossy black chair before taking a sip; Zeltrons all around are dancing although Sydney pays them little mind for the ApeX military contractor had truthfully been waiting for a number of colleagues to join her at the table, Zeltros wasn't too far from their area of operations after all and it was reputed as a good place to unwind. Truly enough Sydney couldn't argue with the live entertainment's quality although she does find the smell of the Haze lingering through the air to be rather offensive to her Avalonian Nostrils. Milk washes over Sydney's tongue and the Dosuun native gives an approving nod after examining the blue-coloured beverage before carefully leaning fore and gently placing it on the glass table. The gaze of the two ocean-blue spheres shifts to her own outfit; A pair of black trousers matched by a charcoal leather overcoat reaching down to Sydney's hips with a white blouse concealed beneath the buttoned coat. Zeltros had yet to disappoint, with the exception of the Indigo district itself which had appeared to Sydney to be decidedly low-income, though regardless the Avalonian carried a concealed blaster pistol in a harness draped over shoulders; Securing the weapon beneath left arm.

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="John Trenway"] [member="Guz McGarion"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Leilani Paaie"] [member="Malcolm Akintola"] [member="Viktor Alexander"] [member="Kaiden Rohn"] [member="Denn Ralto"]
 
Sequins and high heels very rarely comprised Aria's wardrobe - and as any friend of hers would be able to tell you, the Dark Jedi in question was more than happy with that arrangement. And yet there she was, dressed in a skintight red number adorned with frankly too many sequins, periodically stopping to marvel at how suddenly tall she was as she led [member="Darth Imperia"] into Club Blush.

"Ohh, this is pretty," she said enigmatically, looking from the neon-lit stage to the crowd around the bar back to Imperia. "D'you want anything? I can get us drinks, or we can -" she broke off and gestured vaguely at the scene around her.

One look at her expression of mild bewilderment would've given away that Aria didn't go clubbing often - and perhaps more surprisingly, neither did her date. Nevertheless, Aria appreciated drinks and the odd night out, and it was, after all, a night out with Mala (no Aria, she changed her name, remember? Honestly.) She'd heard about Club Blush from somewhere or other, and it had seemed an apt venue; so there they were.

Aria, at least, was suitably upbeat. And that was before she started drinking.

@you people​
 
A waitress sauntered up to the booth [member="John Trenway"] had taken refuge in, hips swaying as she moved towards him. "Can I get you anything tonight, hun?" Her voice was thick as honey and twice as sweet, accented by the way she subtly shifted her torso to give him an eyeful of her generous pink bust.

Joza’s own security detail was rather light, mostly in plainclothes posing as partygoers around the railed area and bar behind them. The Zeltron preferred to concentrate the guards out on the floor, around the stage and the bars. Trafficking was common, and many slavers extended their arm towards Zeltros to capture a few beauties from places like this.

Of course, Zeltros attracted people from all walks of life. She noted [member="Guz McGarion"] garnering some stares as he made his way to the second level, sending him a cursory glance as her eyes caught the fancy robe he was decked out in. Flashy entrances and clothing weren’t out of place on the party planet, after all.

Another man conversed with a pair of guards who were actually in uniform, claiming he had business to discuss with her. [member="The Slave"] piqued her interest, given that she had no idea who he was nor did she have any business meetings scheduled for today. “Why not,” She waved away the two guards, gesturing towards him with a tilt of her head. “Join me for a smoke.”

Her head lifted to look towards him, raising fully once she caught a glimpse of [member="Hazel Zanteres"] making her way towards the Zeltron. A grin snaked its way onto her face as she pushed away from the railing fully and extended a hand towards the blonde woman. “Well if the Doctor doesn’t look gorgeous tonight,” She laughed shortly, pleased to see that the friend she’d made from the OSL had shown up after all.
 
"Ah, 'ello, m'dear. I'll be taking a bottle of rum, if you would be so kind. Yes, the whole bottle. Don't bother with a glass, darlin'."

Long John tried valiantly not to stare at the waitress' bosom. The missus was about and around somewhere, after all, and as fearsome as a pirate he was, he knew better than to do anything that might provoke his wife's ample rage. He'd seen Wookiees going berserk and ripping everything around them to shreds that would've scampered away yelping at the sight of his wife having a fit.

The bottle came rather quickly. With a sigh, Trenway uncorked it rather easily, using one of his mechanical multi-tools on his right index finger. While losing his arm and leg was an awful experience, the new contraptions did come in handy, both in combat and in everyday situations. The pirate took a large gulp of the brown liquid, furrowing his brow slightly as the drink went down. It was a little too fancy for his tastes, and the price of it would probably make the notorious penny pincher cry afterwards, but it was still rum, and it got the job done. Settling even further into his seat, John sighed. He thought he could see his wife out on the dance floor, but it was hard to be sure. There were too many Zeltrons in the crowd to be certain. He saw the woman that was possibly his wife rear her arm about and slap a human who had been reaching for a feel, and John roared in laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. All doubt cast aside, by thunder, that was his missus! The pirate knew she could take care of herself, all right. He began to scan the nightclub, looking for individuals of interest.

There was a man, who, like himself, was dressed oddly for the setting. Interesting. John caught the owner admitting a man into what seemed to be her office, but not before shaking the hand of another sentient over the railing she was near. Who it was or what the exchange was about was lost to the cyborg. Other than that, he didn't see anyone who was really out of the norm here. Well, besides himself, of course. The pirate had already garnered a few stares from some passerbys, whom he acknowledged with a slight tip of his hat. The partygoers usually just snickered and went off to more carousing and other activities that Trenway found trivial. Still, it was only a matter of time until he piqued someone's interest.

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Aria Vale"] [member="FN-9999"] [member="Hazel Zanteres"] [member="Denn Ralto"] [member="Kaiden Rohn"] [member="Viktor Alexander"] [member="Malcolm Akintola"] [member="Leilani Paaie"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Guz McGarion"]
 
The Slave’s grin grew wider, showing oddly immaculate teeth as he moved to take a seat. Putting his own cigarello to his lips he drew a in a deep breath and let it out slowly, helping to fill the local area in a lingering cloud. It faded as he leaned back, his eyes still reflecting the distant lights.

He watched her, taking in her essence like the drugs he was strung out on. He had a rather sheltered upbringing, being stuck to work halls, fighting pits, and plantations; so to see a Zeltron, especially one of her gracious nature, was awe inspiring in the somewhat young man. An idle hand brushed some of his hair back as he leaned forward to ash his cigarello.

I apologize, I saw you from across the room and couldn’t help but come and meet you.”, he said in a slow and calm tone.

So, perhaps my business is one of the heart.”, the corner of his lips curling at his own words.

Call me what you want.”, offering her a hand for a greeting. If she grabbed it, he’d gently rest his lips on the back of her hand before letting it trail back to her side, he himself moving to sit back as well.

[member="Joza Perl"]
 
Bodies moved to the beat, grinding in a large writhing mass. Then some stayed still, standing in the darkest spots of the club, like his. Arms crossed over a pale gray shirt, dark jeans and a pair of matching skater shoes to tie it all together. Once or twice he'd be offered a dance, and once or twice he turned it down politely with a charming comment for the dancers.

Along with many drinks he had turned down; his head throbbed already, and nothing this club had to offer it could make it better really. Returning the wave he received from two pretty Zeltrons walking by, he decided to move, try and find someone that didn't want to take him home and see him play bad cop.

Couples moving together brushed past him, careful to pat away any roaming hands of those whom were single and clearly ready to mingle. Stepping up onto the stairs leading up he put on a flashy smile to any who paid him interest. Sitting down towards the less populated section of the bar he made sure to keep his presence unknown. He didn't want just anyone to know why he was out of Exile and at a club.

[member="Joza Perl"], [member="Aria Vale"], [member="FN-9999"], [member="Hazel Zanteres"], [member="Denn Ralto"], [member="John Trenway"]
 

Hazel Zanteres

The Angel/Devil on your Shoulder
"Aw, you'll make me blush." Hazel joked, but grateful nonetheless for the compliment as she shook [member="Joza Perl"]'s hand. She was a far cry from the woman who had first met the Zeltron on Monastery, and even the one who had shared a drink with her not a week or so ago. "I apologize I couldn't send word ahead of time, but work caught up with me." There was a mischievous glint in Hazel's eyes, indicating the Hapan wasn't particularly distressed about it, and the fact she had managed to surprise her. "And of course, you look as stunning as ever." She gave Joza a wink that time, then walked over to a nearby seat and hung her coat across it.

As she did, Hazel glanced back to see [member="The Slave"] was now conversing with Joza again. She had caught sight of the young man when she had first approached, but hadn't initially acknowledged him. Though of course the doctor side of her instantly picked up on the bags under the eyes, the half gone gaze - but she wasn't sure whether that was from drugs or the effect of the phermones everywhere. Either way, Hazel couldn't help but smirk a bit at seeing the man becoming so absorbed into things.

Hazel was use to it to an extent, and her own underlying issues meant the effect didn't hit her as much. Though she could still feel it in the air, just as much as the smoke was.

"I think I'll go get a drink, while you talk with John Doe here." With that she turned around and sauntered towards the bar, wondering what they had in stock tonight.
 
Viktor made his way full circle grabbing another drink before the group of [member="Joza Perl"] and [member="Hazel Zanteres"] caught his attention. Drink in hand he made his way towards them taking a sip of his drink as he reached the guards.

Glancing at them he smiled extending a hand to them before speaking loud enough for the two ladies to hear him.

"I do hope I am interrupting. The party seemed to be much better over here."

While Viktor did glance briefly at [member="The Slave"] he didn't speak to him choosing instead to focus on the lovely ladies. Next to the lovely [member="Leilani Paaie"] and the curious [member="FN-9999"] he had noticed passing by the bar this spot seemed to be the best spot to start the night off.

Viktor would step aside as Hazel moved towards the bar partially turning to check out the view from another perspective before turning back towards Joza. A small smile crepping across his lips.
 

Sydney Ramek
Zeltros, Indigo District, Blush

Sydney's boot heels find a perch on the oak and glass table sitting in front of the chair she is seated in blue spheres read the message from home off of the wrist-mounted holoprojector; The First Order was going to war? Sydney's heart sank, it was a shame that millions of people would now have to die to serve the ambition of a few. This is why Sydney liked working as a Private Military Contract. The relationship she had with the person who ordered her to fight is personal, Malok was brutish and truly the large ape-like alien frightened her with his overwhelming strength though this was offset by a certain gentleness the exile exhibited, it was refreshing when contrasted with her own memories of home, of Dosuun; Everything there was about aristocratic propriety and in Sydney's experience the wealthy pitied the less fortunate albeit did little to alleviate their suffering. Doubly so if you found yourself as a Non-Human who were discriminated against; Prohibited from serving in the armed services with the exception of the Auxillary who received minimal support from the state and were often equipped with weapons and equipment hundreds of years fallen from general issue. "Well, here's a thought. Maybe everyone should stop expanding their spheres of influence so aggressively and turn their thoughts from conquest to improving the lives of their citizens and the less fortunate." Sydney's Avalonian accent drips from her thin lips and her head gives a firm shake, lowering the wrist-computer, its holographic projection folding shut with this gesture Sydney's hand snatches up the glass of milk and gulps down the contents that remain contained within the cup. It creaks in Sydney's anxious tight grip though she didn't realise it the 'glass' is actually constructed from some polymer that wouldn't smash if she were to drop it. A precaution against the loss of motor control organics experiences after being excessively poisoned by alcohol. Sydney's boots push against the floor and she rises from her seat, eye'ing the bar lined with a rank of people; The club is simply full of customers this evening perhaps she may yet find a place along it. Ordering a drink might prove difficult for her otherwise.

[member="Aria Vale"] [member="Malok"] [member="Joza Perl"] [member="John Trenway"] [member="Guz McGarion"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Leilani Paaie"] [member="Malcolm Akintola"] [member="Viktor Alexander"] [member="Kaiden Rohn"] [member="Denn Ralto"]
 
Darlyn chuckled to himself as he wandered through the rather comfortable, if somewhat seedy, underbelly of Zeltros. Ah how he'd always wanted to afford a visit to such a place, though unfortunately his low income as a hunter had rather... well.. rather stifled what he could afford in luxuries. But as a government official of Commenor? Why, he could probably purchase an estate if he so chose. Several, in all liklihood, but a far more enjoyable use of his time and credits would be to experience some of the more, underground elements?

Perhaps that was a poor choice of words, but it hardly mattered. This low income area, well, it was more home to him than any of the luxuries upper society could provide. It reminded him so fondly of hunting down bounties with just enough of a price tag to warrant him coming out... oh how the nostalgia hit him hard today.

It hit him particularly hard when he entered the club called 'Blush', as almost immediately his body was practically assaulted with pheromones. Not that he particularly minded, anything to make the day more enjoyable had his approval. More than a few heads swiveled to stare, a man wearing black robes, openly carrying two lightsabers (though inactive at the moment, of course) wasn't something one saw every day. Even more so when the front of their robes clearly had a government insignia on it, in this case Commenor's, though soon enough more dancers distracted the assembled groups.

How lovely. He smirked to himself, passing by scores of women and googly eyed men as he made his way over to his second love of his life, copious amounts of alcohol. He ordered a rather large drink, not particularly caring what was in it, and happily drank it as he looked at the assembled crowd. Sydney ([member="FN-9999"]), [member="Denn Ralto"], [member="Kaiden Rohn"], [member="Viktor Alexander"], [member="Leilani Paaie"], [member="Malcolm Akintola"], and [member="Guz McGarion"] scattered about, among others though only those stuck out to him among the assorted crowd members on first glance, with both [member="Hazel Zanteres"] and [member="The Slave"] making their way to [member="Joza Perl"], a woman watching the crowd from on high.

Pink skin, red hair, clear and obvious disinterest in the dancers or drink? He'd be willing to bet she either owned the place or worked as a guard. But seeing as he saw few other guards, he'd be willing to wager more on the former. Not that it mattered much in the grand scheme of things, Darlyn wasn't here to make a business proposal (otherwise he'd have worn a suit), or to cause trouble. He was here to have a grand 'ol time.

Oh... his first drink was already empty. He shrugged and bought a second, trying hard to decide who first to bother.
 

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