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Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
He stood speechless, having been easily disarmed by her reaching inside his coat, in an almost intimate manner. Left awestruck as she went on, without pause or second thought, describing and actively enacting her plan. The contents of his flask consisted of a really potent spirit. Meaning that, even the way she dabbed it all over her was enough to make her stink as if she had just come out the other end of a three-day bender. The fact that the lilac scent still managed to penetrate through it, surprised him.
Remind you, you owe me a drink? All he could do was think at that point. Wait! Did she use up all of it? Overdoing it doesn't even begin to describe it!
Konrad remained like a dugar dugar in the headlights, even after she had turned around and stumbled - hopefully acting the part - inside the club, and doing so effortlessly. "Does she think I'm an alcoholic?" he finally said out loud to himself, breaking the spell that had been cast on him. Am I? Her opinion of him was not even the worst of it, Or was that about buying me a drink an invitation in disguise? Fact was, there were several gaps in her plan that he now had to figure out how to bridge. As it turned out, having a fox for a partner can have its downsides.
First of all, while pretending to be a detective or cop looking for an estranged paramour could explain his presence inside the club, in case anyone asked, it still would not get him past the bouncer to begin with. Secondly, just being there would not necessarily mean they would be able to capture Kep's attention. Most likely, if they ever tried to make contact, they would be both thrown out the door, face first - not that she would ever let that happen, unless that drunken stride was not all acting. Lastly, she had no drugs on her, or so he thought. So how would they be able to convince anyone that she had bought some from a competitor encroaching on Kep's turf? Would she just go around the floor, screaming at the top of her lungs that she had bought some great stuff from around the corner, from a rival spice lord? That was not how any of that worked. Users bought from pushers, and knew very little of the supply chain. As far as anyone buying from the streets would be concerned, they were buying from Kep's rats. To announce otherwise, would imply having some insider knowledge. She was about to fuck things up royally, if she decided to do something before he got to her. If, he even managed to get to her. that was.
The Corellian was considering turning tail and making a run back to his speeder, rather than daring an endeavor that seemed more and more a forlorn hope. Forgetting all about that night and cutting his losses might have just been the smart choice. If only that was not a choice that went against every single principle he held. Not to mention that Heron hated flying or driving anything since he, to put it plainly, sucked at it. Even when it came to his own antigravs, and did so even worse that Katarine - which was why he tried to steer her into taking the wheel, so to speak, as it was too soon to start revealing his shortcomings to her.
With what seemed like a never ending sigh, Heron approached the double doors of The Nexus' entrance and, by extension, the as-wide-as-he-was-tall bouncer standing in front of them. Almost as tall as Heron himself. He was not even five meters near the man, when he noticed the crooked self-satisfied smirk stamped on his potato-shaped head as it shook from side to side. The PI lifted both arms as in surrender and grinned, making the point of unassumingly revealing his holster in the act of raising the hands above his head and thus parting his trench coat by doing so. "Look, mate. I know what you're thinking. But I'm here on the job. I'm looking for someone," he knew that he had to keep it short and to the point with these types.
"Looking for someone? Aren't we all?" He let out a boisterous laugh. "Not gonna happen, mate. Now, go away before I make'ya go away."
"It's not for me, see? It's the better half of this Coruscant big shot who's here on business." You had to feed it to them piece by piece. Make them think they're the ones interested in hearing your bullshit. "His lady has been around town, if you know what I mean..."
"I'm not gonna tell you again! Scram!"
"There might be some credits in it for you, if you help." Hook.
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, my guy! He's one of those rich bastards with a trophy wife. You have to ask youself, how much does your silence costs? Name your price, he'll pay!" Line.
"This is a night club, you pay for music not silence. And sometimes other stuff."
"Errr..." Cream of the crop, this one. He managed the nigh-impossible task of being well-below average for his station. "I mean, his wife fools around with other men, you get me? This rich cuck will pay any bouncer an exorbitant amount... a big, a much bunch of credits to make sure you don't tell anyone that you saw her tonight. You feel me now?" Sinker.
"Much bunch of credits, you say?" he fondled his chin stubble. "And all I have to do is say that I didn't see her?" His eyes widened. "But I don't know if I've seen her! I don't know what she looks like!"
Force all mighty! "That's where I come in! You let me inside, I'll look for her, you'll see how she looks on the way out, and then... Profit?"
The bouncer narrowed his eyes for a while, deep in whatever passed for thought in his mind. Other people standing in line were starting to voice progressively louder complaints about the hold-up. Heron was already considering the prospect of sneaking inside through a back door or open window, when he finally got an answer. "Sounds good to me! Go on in," but he suddenly grabbed his arm with the strong grip of an oversized hand, "but the weapon stays."
"Of course! I'll pick it up on the way out with the broad!" A small price to pay. Had he not so overtly revealed the blaster he was strapping, he would have certainly be frisked on his way in. This way, he was at least able to walk inside while carrying Law and Order. His stun batons.
"Now," he said, looking at the throng of people within, the loud music and poor visibility from the strobbing lights, and considering the existence of yet another gap requiring a bridge, "how am I supposed to find that pocket-sized troublemaker in here?"
Katarine Ryiah
Remind you, you owe me a drink? All he could do was think at that point. Wait! Did she use up all of it? Overdoing it doesn't even begin to describe it!
Konrad remained like a dugar dugar in the headlights, even after she had turned around and stumbled - hopefully acting the part - inside the club, and doing so effortlessly. "Does she think I'm an alcoholic?" he finally said out loud to himself, breaking the spell that had been cast on him. Am I? Her opinion of him was not even the worst of it, Or was that about buying me a drink an invitation in disguise? Fact was, there were several gaps in her plan that he now had to figure out how to bridge. As it turned out, having a fox for a partner can have its downsides.
First of all, while pretending to be a detective or cop looking for an estranged paramour could explain his presence inside the club, in case anyone asked, it still would not get him past the bouncer to begin with. Secondly, just being there would not necessarily mean they would be able to capture Kep's attention. Most likely, if they ever tried to make contact, they would be both thrown out the door, face first - not that she would ever let that happen, unless that drunken stride was not all acting. Lastly, she had no drugs on her, or so he thought. So how would they be able to convince anyone that she had bought some from a competitor encroaching on Kep's turf? Would she just go around the floor, screaming at the top of her lungs that she had bought some great stuff from around the corner, from a rival spice lord? That was not how any of that worked. Users bought from pushers, and knew very little of the supply chain. As far as anyone buying from the streets would be concerned, they were buying from Kep's rats. To announce otherwise, would imply having some insider knowledge. She was about to fuck things up royally, if she decided to do something before he got to her. If, he even managed to get to her. that was.
The Corellian was considering turning tail and making a run back to his speeder, rather than daring an endeavor that seemed more and more a forlorn hope. Forgetting all about that night and cutting his losses might have just been the smart choice. If only that was not a choice that went against every single principle he held. Not to mention that Heron hated flying or driving anything since he, to put it plainly, sucked at it. Even when it came to his own antigravs, and did so even worse that Katarine - which was why he tried to steer her into taking the wheel, so to speak, as it was too soon to start revealing his shortcomings to her.
With what seemed like a never ending sigh, Heron approached the double doors of The Nexus' entrance and, by extension, the as-wide-as-he-was-tall bouncer standing in front of them. Almost as tall as Heron himself. He was not even five meters near the man, when he noticed the crooked self-satisfied smirk stamped on his potato-shaped head as it shook from side to side. The PI lifted both arms as in surrender and grinned, making the point of unassumingly revealing his holster in the act of raising the hands above his head and thus parting his trench coat by doing so. "Look, mate. I know what you're thinking. But I'm here on the job. I'm looking for someone," he knew that he had to keep it short and to the point with these types.
"Looking for someone? Aren't we all?" He let out a boisterous laugh. "Not gonna happen, mate. Now, go away before I make'ya go away."
"It's not for me, see? It's the better half of this Coruscant big shot who's here on business." You had to feed it to them piece by piece. Make them think they're the ones interested in hearing your bullshit. "His lady has been around town, if you know what I mean..."
"I'm not gonna tell you again! Scram!"
"There might be some credits in it for you, if you help." Hook.
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, my guy! He's one of those rich bastards with a trophy wife. You have to ask youself, how much does your silence costs? Name your price, he'll pay!" Line.
"This is a night club, you pay for music not silence. And sometimes other stuff."
"Errr..." Cream of the crop, this one. He managed the nigh-impossible task of being well-below average for his station. "I mean, his wife fools around with other men, you get me? This rich cuck will pay any bouncer an exorbitant amount... a big, a much bunch of credits to make sure you don't tell anyone that you saw her tonight. You feel me now?" Sinker.
"Much bunch of credits, you say?" he fondled his chin stubble. "And all I have to do is say that I didn't see her?" His eyes widened. "But I don't know if I've seen her! I don't know what she looks like!"
Force all mighty! "That's where I come in! You let me inside, I'll look for her, you'll see how she looks on the way out, and then... Profit?"
The bouncer narrowed his eyes for a while, deep in whatever passed for thought in his mind. Other people standing in line were starting to voice progressively louder complaints about the hold-up. Heron was already considering the prospect of sneaking inside through a back door or open window, when he finally got an answer. "Sounds good to me! Go on in," but he suddenly grabbed his arm with the strong grip of an oversized hand, "but the weapon stays."
"Of course! I'll pick it up on the way out with the broad!" A small price to pay. Had he not so overtly revealed the blaster he was strapping, he would have certainly be frisked on his way in. This way, he was at least able to walk inside while carrying Law and Order. His stun batons.
"Now," he said, looking at the throng of people within, the loud music and poor visibility from the strobbing lights, and considering the existence of yet another gap requiring a bridge, "how am I supposed to find that pocket-sized troublemaker in here?"
Katarine Ryiah
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Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
Since the plan was for them to meet up inside, the most obvious place for her to be at would be one of the bars. Except from when causing him to slam his forehead against the top frame of every single door, Konrad's height actually had a few perks. From his vantage point, he could clearly see the larger bar near the main dance floor and two smaller ones towards the back, one of which was next to some booths and the other beside a raised platform with several dancing poles. Regarding those, Heron ignored the curvaceous Twi'leks, Theelins, Rodians, and even that one plump Askajian who were all expertly making an inanimate dance partner out of them, and scanned the people at the counter for the dainty white-streaked firestarter.
Not being able to find her, his gaze shifted towards the platforms on the upper floor, where more tables were set up near the balconies, in case there were other bars in there that he could see. It was usual for an enclosed VIP area to be on an upper floor, so maybe Kat had thought best to get closer to where Kep might have been. But instead of finding those, his eyes met the green-eyed Jedi being led by some hired muscle up the stairs.
"The sly fox!" he smirked. Making a mental reminder never to say that to her face, he headed towards the main bar on his own. Apparently, Katarine had managed to build an entire suspension bridge long enough to cover all the gaps. One which he did not plan on burning just yet. She got this far. Let her play this out by herself. He had no way of knowing whether they had managed to link her to his presence there or not, nor how much they knew of who she actually was and was capable of. With that in mind, he thought it best for him to fly solo as well, lay low and do some digging on the side. They could cover more ground that way. Plus, the woman was more than capable of taking on the entire night club on her own, so it was not like she needed him to have her back up there. Still, the man picked a spot at the counter with a clear view of the VIP zone, where she was being escorted to.
"Vodka, neat," he told the Kedorzhan bartender as they leaned forward to hear his request. Konrad much preferred those joints with some smooth aubade or even upbeat glitz playing in the background. More than a personal taste, it at least made it possible to actually have a conversation. The blaring clinkers of bass drops and dissonant synths, punctuated by industrial percussion, reminded him of a bunch of construction tools going off at once, while rolling down the side of a hill that was paved in alusteel. It was so loud, it made it even harder for him to hear his own thoughts.
Reaching inside his coat pocket for some credit chips, he dropped them on the counter to pay for his drink as it was being brought over. Then, placing his hand on top of the mammal's furry wrist as they reached for them, he added, "You can keep the change, if you tell me where I can get my hands on some o'the good stuff." Konrad had to also lean and approach the bartender's face, in order to be understood. Their breath was rancid.
The nearsighted rodent-like sentient, groped the chips on the counter to figure out how much was in there, then effortlessly pulled back his arm and simply shrugged. But they never did turn around.
Konrad sighed - something he found himself doing a lot more as of late - and let a couple more chips fall on the table. The Kedorzhan sniffed the air a few times before motioning with his muzzle towards a platinum blonde with purple neon highlights, sitting on the opposite side of that crescent-shaped counter. Thanking them with a nod, that the PI doubted they were even able to see, he took his drink and got up with a snarl. Approaching the pusher meant turning his back to Katarine.
"Hey there gorgeous."
"Not interested," she put it bluntly.
"That's how you treat all your costumers?"
"Also not a hooker. Crik off!"
"Not the action I'm looking for, darling. Also, you're not my type. I prefer them smoking hot, say... like spice." He was pretty sure that was how the kids talked these days. "Been told you're friends with some and can make introductions?"
The woman laughed, "That's wizard, gramps!"
What the actual?... I'm only in my thirties? Prime of my life! Let this be a lesson kids, drugs can really mess up your critical thinking.
"I got some for your cravings. Show me yours and I'll show you mine?"
Konrad flashed all the remaining credits he had on him, thinking on how he later would have to bring up the matter of his per diem with Katarine. With an affected smile, the woman got up, glanced over her shoulder while taking hold of his hand, and instructed him to follow with a jerk of her head.
The detective downed his vodka with one gulp and slammed the empty cup on the counter. He might need both his hands free for what was about to go down, and he was not going to let perfectly good vodka go to waste. Konrad let himself be led by the neon lady while wondering how things were faring on Katarine's end.
Katarine Ryiah
Not being able to find her, his gaze shifted towards the platforms on the upper floor, where more tables were set up near the balconies, in case there were other bars in there that he could see. It was usual for an enclosed VIP area to be on an upper floor, so maybe Kat had thought best to get closer to where Kep might have been. But instead of finding those, his eyes met the green-eyed Jedi being led by some hired muscle up the stairs.
"The sly fox!" he smirked. Making a mental reminder never to say that to her face, he headed towards the main bar on his own. Apparently, Katarine had managed to build an entire suspension bridge long enough to cover all the gaps. One which he did not plan on burning just yet. She got this far. Let her play this out by herself. He had no way of knowing whether they had managed to link her to his presence there or not, nor how much they knew of who she actually was and was capable of. With that in mind, he thought it best for him to fly solo as well, lay low and do some digging on the side. They could cover more ground that way. Plus, the woman was more than capable of taking on the entire night club on her own, so it was not like she needed him to have her back up there. Still, the man picked a spot at the counter with a clear view of the VIP zone, where she was being escorted to.
"Vodka, neat," he told the Kedorzhan bartender as they leaned forward to hear his request. Konrad much preferred those joints with some smooth aubade or even upbeat glitz playing in the background. More than a personal taste, it at least made it possible to actually have a conversation. The blaring clinkers of bass drops and dissonant synths, punctuated by industrial percussion, reminded him of a bunch of construction tools going off at once, while rolling down the side of a hill that was paved in alusteel. It was so loud, it made it even harder for him to hear his own thoughts.
Reaching inside his coat pocket for some credit chips, he dropped them on the counter to pay for his drink as it was being brought over. Then, placing his hand on top of the mammal's furry wrist as they reached for them, he added, "You can keep the change, if you tell me where I can get my hands on some o'the good stuff." Konrad had to also lean and approach the bartender's face, in order to be understood. Their breath was rancid.
The nearsighted rodent-like sentient, groped the chips on the counter to figure out how much was in there, then effortlessly pulled back his arm and simply shrugged. But they never did turn around.
Konrad sighed - something he found himself doing a lot more as of late - and let a couple more chips fall on the table. The Kedorzhan sniffed the air a few times before motioning with his muzzle towards a platinum blonde with purple neon highlights, sitting on the opposite side of that crescent-shaped counter. Thanking them with a nod, that the PI doubted they were even able to see, he took his drink and got up with a snarl. Approaching the pusher meant turning his back to Katarine.
"Hey there gorgeous."
"Not interested," she put it bluntly.
"That's how you treat all your costumers?"
"Also not a hooker. Crik off!"
"Not the action I'm looking for, darling. Also, you're not my type. I prefer them smoking hot, say... like spice." He was pretty sure that was how the kids talked these days. "Been told you're friends with some and can make introductions?"
The woman laughed, "That's wizard, gramps!"
What the actual?... I'm only in my thirties? Prime of my life! Let this be a lesson kids, drugs can really mess up your critical thinking.
"I got some for your cravings. Show me yours and I'll show you mine?"
Konrad flashed all the remaining credits he had on him, thinking on how he later would have to bring up the matter of his per diem with Katarine. With an affected smile, the woman got up, glanced over her shoulder while taking hold of his hand, and instructed him to follow with a jerk of her head.
The detective downed his vodka with one gulp and slammed the empty cup on the counter. He might need both his hands free for what was about to go down, and he was not going to let perfectly good vodka go to waste. Konrad let himself be led by the neon lady while wondering how things were faring on Katarine's end.
Katarine Ryiah
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Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
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Law and Order
The pair walked up to the narrow corridor that lead to the restrooms. Heron studied the faces there. A few club goers of various builds and clothing but none that arouse suspicion, other than that tall - even for him - Wookiee, who seemed to pay them as much attention as he was paying him. The neon blonde, still pulling Konrad along by the hand like one would lead a puppy by the leash, went inside and pushed open a stall. Shutting the door behind them, she produced a small round bag from her purse, containing an orange glistering powder inside.
"The rules are, pay upfront and hit it here."
"Can't I just pay and take it with me?" feigning ignorance, Konrad went fishing. He knew why she wanted him to do the drugs in front of her. He was a fresh face and she had to be sure he was no narc. There was a strong possibility that she was either packing heat, or that the furry Goliath outside was her muscle. Maybe both, but he had to know which for certain, before proceeding with his plan. "I have friends outside. We pitched in these credits together and this was supposed to be shared between us."
"That's not how we do things," she seemed nervous. It was a big sale and Konrad was putting out his best puppy eyes. "Okay, tell you what... Do a bump now, and I'll let you leave with the rest."
"Why? I mean, I have the money," he took out the credits from his pocket, "can't I just leave with the whole thing?"
The woman was losing patience fast, clearly getting anxious as well. When the PI reached into his pocket, her nerves got the better of her and she pulled out a pistol from the same purse. "Druk! Who are you, really? You a farking snitch, right?" He raised his hands, letting the chips fall. The sound of them hitting the ground could have attracted attention, which only made the blonde pusher even more jumpy. "Tell me, you a narc? You're never getting out of here in one piece, my partner outside will rip you limb from limb!"
That was all he needed to know. He would rather prefer she was without backup, but knowing was still half the battle. Pretending to be concerned, Heron looked at the spread out credits on the floor. One thing with being nervous was that you tend to pay extra attention to the person on the other end of the barrel, and follow their every move. Even when it is only the eyes. Another thing that Konrad was banking on was her inexperience with such situations. There was a reason why blasters were categorized as being ranged weapons, yet people felt so empowered by just holding a deadly instrument between themselves and the other person that they often ignored that very simply fact - that they were suppose to be used at range. He would have never followed her all the way there if he was not expecting that deal - like most other shady deals - to be conducted at a secluded place which, in a crowded night club, could only meant a tight space as well.
At close quarters, he had no trouble reaching for the Law with his right hand, while her eyes shifted from him to the scattered chips, and striking her hand with the beryl flaring stun baton. She began to let out a yelp as the blue arcs of electricity ran down her forearm, immediately causing her to let go of the blaster. A left hand unsheathing Order in a swift motion, hit her right square in the jaw, silencing her as she fell down unconscious against his chest. Her body still twitching in rhythm with the pulsating flaming red jolts. Propping her up on the toilet, body slouching and head tilting to the side, Konrad began picking up his fallen credits with haste before moving on to her blaster. Quickly examining it, he figured that at least a few shots at maximum power, should be enough to put even a Wookiee to sleep.
Exiting the stall and looking to make sure that he was alone in there, he placed himself as far away from the restroom's door as it would allow. Most stories would have the daring detective stand beside the door to shot at the interloper's back as they rushed inside. But then again, most people tend to disregard the significance of the word ranged on the expression ranged weapon. The good thing about Wookiees, is that for all their fur it was pretty obvious whenever they were strapped. As a thug for hire, that one seemed to rely mostly on his brute strength, since he was not wearing a single sheath or holster. So Konrad had maybe a couple of seconds to fire as many shots as he could at the beast, once they came busting through the door.
As soon as the PI saw the automatic door opening and the large hairy beast rushing inside with a roar, he started shooting. One to the chest, two to the chest, three to the shoulder, fourth and fifth on each leg, and the thing was still coming at him like a high-powered railspeeder. He did stumble though, which Heron took advantage of to slide between the assailant's legs, while shooting non stop. Belly, belly, groin.
Finally the beast let out a growl of pain, rather than rage. Knowing his weak spot, the ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth shots were also aimed at the Wookiee's groin from a kneeling shooting position. With him howling in pain with every hit, as he turned around and was now rushing to the other end of the room where Konrad was. And, doing so significantly slower now and with agonizing effort behind every stride. Squeezing the trigger a thirteenth time, to no effect due to a depleted battery, the Corellian tossed the weapon aside and once more unsheathed Law and Order. Just as the beast was on top of him and ready to stomp him into a boneless bag of meat, Heron struck him on the heels as hard as he could, and the creature finally fell down.
On top of him...
Katarine Ryiah
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Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
Now let's see what you've been up to... He muttered to himself while ransacking the dealer's purse. She was still out cold but Konrad expected that to be the case going in. Unlike before, time was against him now and he did not had enough of it to ever hope being able to question her. In fact, of the two, he suspected the Wookiee might have been the first one to regain consciousness and do so fast. Also, there was the possibility of someone walking in and raising an alarm, even if not one of Kep's people and doing so inadvertently. Inside her purse, other than the usual miscellanea and personal grooming products, of which he did not know most, there was an access card that caught his attention. On the black key card was golden stylized Aurebesh that read "Gilded Moth".
Konrad knew the place. It was some fancy joint downtown, far removed from the squalor of the industrial zones on the opposite edge of the Coronet Bay. Downtown area was properly policed, and out of the reach for a lowlife such as Kep. The blonde did not work the streets there, neither could she afford an all-access pass to one of the most upscale private clubs in the city. This perp that they were after saw himself as an enjoyer of the finer things in life, Konrad remembered reading at least that much on the case files. Also, a body that were to be dumped from that margin could wash up on the industrial sector side. All the math checked out. And whatever this guy had on Kep, it was enough to force him to forfeit his scrumrats and possibly a piece of the action as well. Lucky for that blonde, she was too old for this Wells guy when she went to deliver his cut.
So the fact that the victim's body was found on Moira's turf, the exact same place where some of her thugs were double-dipping with Kep, setting them both on the hot trail, was but a coincidence. If not for the fact that, as the PI well knew of Coronet, there were no coincidences there. The city was a Cat's Cradle. You tug at one string, and three others get farkled. The demented Doctor, for all of his presumed smartness, surely lacked awareness of that fact if he thought he could inoculate himself by just dealing with one of those streets' thugs.
Pocketing the pass, Konrad quickly exited the restroom and almost bumped into some club goers as he did. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you, mates! The spice on that Sketto I had earlier didn't agree with me. They'll need a hazmat team to scrape it off the walls!"
Now, to meet up with Katarine and swap notes. It was good to know that the whole club had not been turned upside down while he was away. Although hopefully things would not come to that, there was still time for it to happen...
Katarine Ryiah
Konrad knew the place. It was some fancy joint downtown, far removed from the squalor of the industrial zones on the opposite edge of the Coronet Bay. Downtown area was properly policed, and out of the reach for a lowlife such as Kep. The blonde did not work the streets there, neither could she afford an all-access pass to one of the most upscale private clubs in the city. This perp that they were after saw himself as an enjoyer of the finer things in life, Konrad remembered reading at least that much on the case files. Also, a body that were to be dumped from that margin could wash up on the industrial sector side. All the math checked out. And whatever this guy had on Kep, it was enough to force him to forfeit his scrumrats and possibly a piece of the action as well. Lucky for that blonde, she was too old for this Wells guy when she went to deliver his cut.
So the fact that the victim's body was found on Moira's turf, the exact same place where some of her thugs were double-dipping with Kep, setting them both on the hot trail, was but a coincidence. If not for the fact that, as the PI well knew of Coronet, there were no coincidences there. The city was a Cat's Cradle. You tug at one string, and three others get farkled. The demented Doctor, for all of his presumed smartness, surely lacked awareness of that fact if he thought he could inoculate himself by just dealing with one of those streets' thugs.
Pocketing the pass, Konrad quickly exited the restroom and almost bumped into some club goers as he did. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you, mates! The spice on that Sketto I had earlier didn't agree with me. They'll need a hazmat team to scrape it off the walls!"
Now, to meet up with Katarine and swap notes. It was good to know that the whole club had not been turned upside down while he was away. Although hopefully things would not come to that, there was still time for it to happen...
Katarine Ryiah
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Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
The man raised a finger in her direction, aimed at her back. A mannerism of one about to inquire something out of curiosity, that was made pointless by the synesthetic and ever-shifting sensory overload, all around.
"Don't ask," she said. He lowered the hand. But now he really needed to.
"I know the perfect place," he threw back at her, offering to buy him a drink. "Though it will cost you." Konrad flashed the Gilded Moth VIP access card at her, with a mischievous smirk across his face. Just then, a deep roar followed by the noise of a durasteel door being thrown against an opposite wall, pierced through the dance floor music. "We should go," Heron glanced over the incoming Wookiee, and shook the card on his hand, "this didn't come free!"
Katarine Ryiah
"Don't ask," she said. He lowered the hand. But now he really needed to.
"I know the perfect place," he threw back at her, offering to buy him a drink. "Though it will cost you." Konrad flashed the Gilded Moth VIP access card at her, with a mischievous smirk across his face. Just then, a deep roar followed by the noise of a durasteel door being thrown against an opposite wall, pierced through the dance floor music. "We should go," Heron glanced over the incoming Wookiee, and shook the card on his hand, "this didn't come free!"
Katarine Ryiah