Public CHARACTER INTRODUCTION|-| "Just Some Good Ol' Talking"

[TheWater125]

[ROLEPLAY]: "Just Some Good Ol' Talking"
[IMPORTANT LINKS]: [LFG THREAD]
[TAGS]: Cord###
[OBJECTIVE]: [Conversate with each other, make new contacts, and potentially commit to business transaction while enjoying some beverages.]
[ROLEPLA REQUIREMENTS]: [NONE, OPEN TO ANYONE. HOP IN IF YOU WANT]
[SETTING]: [Bob's Cantina, Level REDACTED, Coruscanti Underworld, Coruscant]

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[INTRO]: The Prized Gem of the Galaxy, one could even say it was the Prized Gem under an Extragalactic Title for nothing rivaled it; Of course we're talking about the Planet of Coruscant, Home of Democracy and Centralized-Hub of gone and forgotten Governmental-Entities of Ol'. If an individual was an First-Time-Foreigner who decided to visit the World, you'd notice the Steep-Prices which were distributed to the poor saps of your Homeworld located at the Traveling-Port; And as you Pixelated from Hyperspace into Real-Space, you noticed the abnormal sum of Vessels entering and leaving the World Amass. Descending closer to Physical-Contact, you'd notice the Beautiful Skyscrapers which littered the Upper-Levels, and as your ride progressed it got darker...And darker, those once Beautiful Skyscrapers were barely visible from your point of view, and their beauty was re-configurated to become an slight annoyance to the Peasants of Below who could only dream of demolishing the bondage which blockaded the movement of Class-Shifting amongst your family. You were enroute to the Underworld, slowly realizing you brought the wrong ticket, it seemed like you was going to pass away on spot, and the first thing you heard when stepping off the Passenger-Vessel was an ongoing firefight, and the first thing you seen was an Street-Model being hustled by her Boss. The Location which you stood idle in was best described as "Horrid", and then finally you were mugged by some Street-Kid. Rinse and repeat, one of the various situations which an Outsider could be subjugated to-"Absolute Crap"; Maybe next time you could've been more careful, maybe the next sap was going to be Shoot in the Forehead by a Spice-Addict, Coruscant was the land of opportunities!!

[PROGRESSION]: Located Within' the Realm of Scum and Villainy was Bob's Cantina, the beating heart of the Local Ghetto on Level |REDACTED|. Labeled by the Populate-Locality on the Coruscanti-Underworld HoloBlog as "Thieves Landing" or "Safe Central", the Cantina was described as the Hub of Local Crime, owned by Bob the Herglic Nightmare; Also Being one of the places where the Trading of Illegal Merchandise was conducted, Business Transactions Going Wrong, and an Built-In-Immigration-Office Upstairs. If you lost anything, ranging from your Heavy-Blaster to the Durasteel Front-Door which led into your "Piece of Garbage Apartment", all you had to do was go up the street and it'll be inside the cantina most likely being sold off by the Scum who stole it. As for the physicality, it was right next to the "Office of Jeb"-A placed owned by an Crime Lord claiming to be one of various descendants of the Original "Justicar Brigade", some organization which he's oddly Euphoric about, and wishes to return to prominence. Stationed outside the Front-Door is a set of twins named "Mandellian-1" and "Mandellian-2", both of which are Green-Mandellian Giants who're working for Bob as hired muscle; And as you enter the cantina you'd be flashed by Colorful Lights, now in the Game-Section of the Cantina where Sabacc and the like was played. The Bar was manned by Bob himself, being the Remnants of a Rusted-Ugly Ship modified to house drinks and the like.

"Hmph. I've asked for freakin' Belsavian-Wine and you give me this...Green Slime!! Only a Hutt is capable of consuming something as resistant to the stomach and nostrils as this junk. Now...I'll repeat the order, Mr. Wayne...I want Belsvian Wine from your Fresh-Liquid Coffers, with an additional reinforcement of Liquidized Organic-Leaf Juice from Kashyyk and topped off with some hints of Spice and Light-Acidic Water." [Hannibal said, his arm would lift from the Chair-Handle has he leaned forward, the Suite-Seat would squeak with every action. He was coming off of Spice-Withdrawals although formulating sentences with little to no ease for he was best described as an High-Functioning Spice Addict who "Happened to Finish Some Type of School". He'd then continue.] "Also...Mr. Wayne, I request a Hookah-Generator be moved over to my suite. Now go." [Finishing.]

"Of course, Mr. Hannibal." [He replied before walking off.]

"I hate that man." [He muttered before disappearing into the shadows of the suite, awaiting someone intriguing to arrive alongside his drink.]

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[AWAITING CONTINUATION]

 

[Cord###]

Cord spat some chew into a nearby tin.

"I'll take those credits partner." Cord said to the devaronian beside him. The red-faced creature gave him a scowl, but handed Cord his winning. "Any other takers?" Cord asked the bar goers around him.

"I"ll take you." A green nikto made his way to the dart board, picking out the Devaronian's throws. "What's the game?"

"How about Around the World?" Cord replied.

"Agreed." The Nikto replied.

"Agreed."
"Any changes?" Cord asked. It was customary, at least in these parts, for initiator of darts to pick the game, and the challenger to introduce a change up or wrinkle to it.

"Pairs. Pick a partner." The Nikto said.

"Feth." Cord felt set up. He'd taken maybe a quarter of this bar in darts already, most of them would probably be happy to throw a game and pull Cord down a peg. That was when he noticed a particularly angry customer giving it to Mr. Wayne. Treatment of a bartender like that usually meant one of two things. Either the guy was a greenhorn or a bigshot. Either way meant opportunity, opportunity Cord didn't want to waste. Cord headed over to TheWater125 .

"You play darts partner? I'm in need of assistance for a game of doubles."

 

[TheWater125]

"Do I play darts? Ha...No...I don't plays darts; But I'll make an exception with you, cowpoke." He said; Leaning forward, an wide-grin would appear across his Sly-Face. His eyes would beam in the direction of the individual, sharp and narrowed he'd burst out into laughter has an Aura of Awkwardness would engulf the direct-vicinity. The Spice was hitting him bad, and any traveler knew an Addict when he seen one; Hannibal of course wasn't the type to classify himself alongside the lines of what he considered vermin.

"Mr. Adoniah, here's your drink...As requested; If you are in need of anything else...Please...Just give a shout, sir." The Tender said in a slow pace, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he bent down, placing the drink into it's holder. Straightening his back up, the smile of a sham appeared.

"I need anythin' else? Mr. Wayne...How could you forg-" His sentence was interrupted; As he belched loudly, which was followed by an sudden smell of Dead-Womp-Rats, and finally the retching of an Yellow-Substances which would take root across the suite carpet. "Sorry about the...Carpet, Mr. Wayne. Just put it on the tab; And as for you stranger, Cord### , I suppose an game will fix this shrewd stomach of mines." He said in an mellow tone; Wiping at his disgusting mouth as flakes of dead skin was vacuumed onto the floor.

An Ithorian who seemed to know the sickly man jumped into the ongoing situation "What is your problem, Hannibal? I mean you've been brooding about this Sector of Coruscant for the past month? What about your Trading compa-" He came to a sudden halt-"Comp", it sounded as though he was going to say "Company" however one could only assume; Moreover an spectator had must've been puzzled. Why didn't he finish his sentence? Maybe it was something important kept under wraps, all the Cowboy knew was this "Hannibal" person was quite the intriguing individual.

"Hol' up. Before we start playin' an game, I want to know your name, who're you stranger?" [Post-Game-Agreement] Hannibal proclaimed; His eyes would narrow even more, as his arms would cross over each other, submitting an figure of "Questioning" or "Pondering" to an onlooker.

"I'll be back with cleaning-equipment, please don't do anything irrational amongst this new customer." The Tender stated in an frank manner, before walking away, most likely not to return for Mr. Wayne was known for clocking out at this time.

 

[Cord###]

The stranger laughed, vomited, and put out some slang at Cord's request. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The things he did for credits. The vomit spoke to him being a greenhorn off his first job, spicing and drinking away his first big job thinking the next was just another day away. The Ithorian's word spoke to him being a big shot. Perhaps he was both, and at a turning point in his life.

"Most folk call me Cord." He replied at the ask of his name. "And yourself stranger?" Cord would return the question to TheWater125 as they walked over to the dart board. The Nikto had his partner picked out already of course. A Rodian who sported a mechanical eye. In most parts of Coruscant cybernetics had one banned from play, but not in Bob's Cantina. Bob's Cantina had a pretty standard dart board, reinforced in the back with wine bottle corks.

"Game we're playing is called Around the World." Cord said, as the Nikto began to line up his throws. "We've got to hit every number on the board in order, then the bullseye. Anything out of order is a miss." The Nikto threw once, hitting the 1. Then again, hitting the 2. Then a third time, but the dart flew just a little to the right, hitting the 19 instead of the 3. "Their next go is a 3 because they missed it." Cord said, then stepped up to the line with his own darts.

Cord had hustled more than one bar playing darts. The one came easily, then the two, and finally the three. They were ahead by a point. The rodian was up next.

"You got it?"

 

[TheWater125]

[MUSIC: CANTINA MUSIC ]
[RELEVANT LINK: [ LFG THREAD ]

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"Cord you say." He stated; Halting as though he was browsing the topic of which was his mind to uncover whether he knew Mr. Cord. "Well...I'm Hannibal Adoniah of Tion; Someone who's name you shall hear a lot around what we call Bob's Cantina." He responded. Walking behind Mr. Cord , the gritting of the teeth imploded within' Hannibal's Mouth has any individual walking past could hear the irritating sound, before some muttering was heard from Hannibal; Most likely an slight produced per result of his slight Xenophobia.

"Here's a lil' music for those who like it. Coming to the stage is Germanius and the "Kuati Furnaces"...They'll be playin' a little somethin' somethin' until the morning. So enjoy it while you can, AND ALSO!! Drinks are free for the next hour." Bob the Herglic stated from behind his booth; Has the occupants of the bar rushed over in a hurry. A Kowakien Monkey-Lizard launching forth from the dark abyss which was the "Booze Brewery" located beneath the cantina-Gripping ahol' of Cord### 's shoulder before pouncing onto Hannibal's Shoulder, causing him to shrug it off. "HANNIBAL! I'll get your game-partners some beverages." Bob said loudly before getting back to work.

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RP PROGRESSION....[POST BOB'S COMMENT. PRESENT: WALKING TO BOARD, NIKTO THROWING, CORD DART-THROWS, RODIAN READYING]

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Some Intriguing individuals known as the Decraniated who were notorious vital chunks of their head would be standing near the Game-Board, Watching as Cord walked by, although receding into the darkness as Hannibal walked by. Gripping at their waist, where the usual Blaster-Holster laid quiet, awaiting action. "I understand..But let's talk of somethin' else while we play." He said. "Those people back there are what I call my entertainment; The Religious Folk of the Underworld, moreover the descendants of an Ancient-Monotheistic Order who blazed the Galaxy under one United-Xenophobic-Hammer call them...Mother's Tainted." He added on, allowing cord to give an adequate response to his comments before the Nikto and Rodian interrupted.

"Tsk-Tsk-Tsk" was heard, as the Rodian stopped the stabilization of his potential throw. "BOSS! I was just gettin' ready!!" The Player said; Gripping the Dart tightly. His partner would then join in. "Zukka, don't even worry about it; We'll get two times whatever we've made tonight off of the paycheck. Let's get some drinkin' in before my wife calls me." The Nikto added on; Then walking away with his infuriated partner who launched the dart out of an window, and straight into the Alley which sat silent near the cantina. [POST CORD RESPONSE]

"Blessed be the Tionese-Region who's past is such rich...Mr. Cord, I know a hustler when I see one; I know a Preacher when I see one, I know someone who's good enough to conduct business with me when I see them. You're not lookin' to play some darts...I think you're lookin' to sell me something, perhaps you're an sellsperson for an agency...Maybe not, maybe you're an Member of the Local-Law Enforcement." He said in an stern tone of voice, allowing Cord### to respond. Then removing an Bladed which was engraved with Cultist-Markings; Twirling it as he stared directly at his Game-Partner, any track from the earlier encounter which could've descripted Hannibal has an relaxed person was polluted, and maybe the new Character which he presented was the actuality of his being. Everything from earlier could've been a falsehood listed under the banner of incognito, this whole scenario is perhaps rehearsed to get ahol' of outsiders for business. All previously stated is of course up to Mr. Cord and onlookers to interpret. "My father use to say...Boy, to get to a man's heart-You must flay them. Cut off ya'skin and let it settle under the sun for some minutes or so, then you throw some salt or spice on the wounds-And hope he doesn't die for the purpose of flaying during this scenario is to get information or whatever you want. THOUGH! If he dies...At least you were able to conduct a euphoric situation which could be passed onto ya childrin'. Lutherhelm Knives cut deep." He said in a low tone, as his tongue was exported in an sinister manner, licking the bottom lip before retreating. [STATEMENT: POST-CORD RESPONSE TO FIRST STATEMENT: "Assumption of Character".]

 

[Cord###]

The vomiteer turned out to be Hannibal something or other of Tion. Cord knew little of Tion, except that it was supposed to be where all the rich people lived. The assessment leaned a little more towards "big shot", especially as the Herglic announced to the entire bar that drinks were free for the next hour.

Hannibal listened to Cord's explanation of the game, but didn't really seem interested. He was more concerned with the headless folk wandering around the cantina. Cord listened to Hannibal's assessment of the decraniated as it seemed the Rodian and the Nikto were now more interested in taking advantage of Bob's free drinks.

"You have an intriguing way of getting my attention Hannibal, but you have it." Cord responded, as he was beginning to find that 'Bobs' Cantina was a bit of a misnomer. The Tionese man continued speaking of heritage, his abilities to find what Cord called the movers-and-shakers, and even accused him of being law enforcement. Cord chuckled in response.

"I think you're reading a bit into things Hannibal." Cord responded, before Hannibal continued on about flaying skin and salting wounds and other such sadism. It was not new to Cord, though he typically expected to see yellow eyes and red lightsabers accompanying such speeches.

"Well Hannibal, that's . . . something." Cord replied, and made a couple glances around the room. Figure out how many men were probably in Hannibal's pocket, and best paths to exits. Just in case. "I came to Coruscant to drag Two Gun Fenros to Kulla the Hutt four levels down and collect a bounty. I came to this bar to spend that bounty on whiskey and darts. After that I hadn't a thought, though I suspect you've got something in mind."

TheWater125