"Ey, and do me a favor, next time. One of these guys comes in 'ere again, you tell 'em you're with somebody."
The ring-capped finger, pointed toward the large, fleshy face of the Besalisk bartender, might have looked threatening to anyone watching. The speaker, an older human with wrinkled features and twin shocks of silvery hair on either side of his skull, eyed the multi-armed alien with a lopsided grin. The Besalisk took a step back, waving one of his arms, palm out, implying that he wanted to distance himself as far from the conversation as possible... but, clearly unable to do so. The being's lower back bumped into an empty table, and his big mouth opened - displaying a full set of wicked teeth. The Besalisk's beady eyes blinked as he nodded vigorously.
"Yea-yeah. I'll do that. Sure, Vinny."
The older human nodded, lowering his hand.. then tugged the brown leather coat he wore down, adjusting it. The cool mid-day breeze whipping through Coruscant's wide valleys signaled a change in the seasons.
"Alright." The silver-haired man said, then turned - glancing throughout the smoky interior of the dive. The few patrons inside the dark, poorly-lit bar all seemed to be engrossed in their drinks; paying no attention to their surroundings or the exchange taking place in the corner.
"Gimme a brew, would'ya?" Vinny said, turning his attention back to the bulbous, apron-wearing alien. The Besalisk nodded, turning to retreat back to where he was safe... behind the stained counter-top where the majority of his patrons were seated.
"What-" The besalisk turned, about to ask a question... but Vinny was already moving away, paying no more attention.
Choosing a table further in, Vincenzo took a seat with his back toward the interior - facing the entrance of the bar, where he could easily see anyone coming or going. He'd be easily missable in the darkness, especially as the bright mid-day light outside would blind most folk upon stepping through the doorway. The older man took a seat, propping one elbow up on the tabletop while his right hand rested on the arm of the sturdy wooden chair...
The butt of an M-45 Blaster Pistol was barely visible, tucked into the front of his faded jeans - quick to hand, if called upon.
While he waited for a drink, he casually inspected the room - noticing, at the next table over, a peculiarly-dressed individual sitting alone, browsing through a datapad. Vinny watched him for a second, cocking his head to one side... before leaning forward and addressing the individual with no care as-to the volume of his voice:
"Hey. Has anyone ever told you, you look like a mad doctor?"
The subtle grin on his face might have been well-hidden in the poor lighting.
NurseJDC