Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Down at the Club

Times have been rough on Ravnos. Here he was; a glorified bouncer at the club, "Inderandos Suvi," trying to make enough to afford the closet of an apartment he could only just afford within city limits. It had its perks, the apartment. It was near the holo relay so he could speak to his kids when he could afford the offworld call to them. Lately though his estranged children and his ex-wife were ever more distant and connecting with them was getting harder by the week. Soon, he knew, he would be on his own... saving for calls that would never connect. Taking a deep drag from his cig he winced and looked at it. The cig was an addiction he was trying to get rid of, but the ever presence stress kept him on it. Throwing the spent cig on the ground, and grinding it under his heel, Ravnos exhales the smoke and moves to go inside the back entrance to the club.

Met by other bouncers he nods, entering the club proper he moves through the backstage area where performers are preparing their makeup and suits. The ladies and gents... and well, things ... he never really knew the sex of all of the gathered species but he was well known to them all. Keeping the hands of desperate patrons off the performers sometimes got rough and that is where he earned his keep. Known for taking down even the toughest drunk in the club, usually without a sweat as he used their strength against them with the ease of an expert. For some reason it was easy for him, to read those who would do harm or catch sneaks. Scenes though, like this was not uncommon, but lately he and the other bouncers kept the performers on task. Nodding to another bouncer guarding the exit to the patron area of the club, Ravnos exits into the club where the go-go dancers rally.

Not a bad dancer himself, he was encouraged by his boss to merge with the dance floor on more than one occasion. Smiling to one of the dancers who blew him a kiss, Ravnos walks into the crowded dance floor, letting the beat of the music dictate the movements of his body some as it helped him move through the crowd and look for those who would cause trouble in the club. It was times like this when he went into auto pilot mode that he allowed his instincts to alert him to things out of the norm. He had been doing this gig for only a month now, since he lost his cab driver license, but it paid well enough and despite it being physical in many ways... something he usually tried to avoid, Ravnos was learning the ins and outs of being a civilian now. Just over twenty years being a Mega Corp military man, policing the outer rim, had left more than one mark on him and he was trying to seek the peaceful side of life. Yet the peace he sought never really came and every step he took towards normalcy brought about its own shares of trouble.

The cab job for instance. He could handle being robbed, but too many fares tried to take his cab. Rather than let insurance handle things, he would handle them and ... of course the goons trying to rob him would damage his cab. Or there was that one time when he tried to save a woman being beaten by his pimp in his own cab, only to have that same woman turn a gun on him. The one thing that ended his career as a cab driver though was the destruction of his cab in a massive shootout. Truly it was not his own fault. His fare though did cause some trouble and that lead to Ravnos disarming him.... only to find his fare's gang ready to battle. Getting out of sticky situations was something he could handle, but it was not something he looked forward to... it was just something that happened.

Now here he was on the dance floor, wearing a black suit that all bouncers wore... threading his way through the club patrons. He could not get over the sense that today was going to be different. This usually meant something bad was going to happen. Good thing, he thought to himself, his apartment was paid for this month.... because if he lost this gig over what was to happen, if it happened, then he would need that time to find another job.

----
OOC: I'm a bouncer, who are you? How would you interact, if at all? Let's meet IC.
 
Foot steps echoed on the ground, as the short armored figure walked into the club. A bouncer tried to stop her, pointing to her weapons. Pulling a card out of her pouch, Allya handed it to the bouncer. A VIP. The bouncer was smart and took a step back. Pulling her black cloak around her tighter, she walked through the security scanners, the bouncers all looked shocked when it didn't go off. Baffleweave was a fun tool, and it was one of her favorite things to make her clothing out of.

The music, and dancers, the lights, it was always overwhelming for the Sithling. Adjusting her optics, she filtered out a lot of the light, and sound, helping to give her a sense of peace. She was quite happy about her armor, and voice filters, it made it far harder for anyone to know her age, it also kept random people from walking up and trying to pick her up in these places. Happened once, guy lost his hand, there was a lot of hubub about it that she didn't understand. He was still alive right?

Moving to a dark corner, her usual place, the mandalorian rested on the soft cushions, waiting for her contacts. Soon, two men came over, and placed a data pad on the table. “We found it. It's going to be hell to get it out through First Order space though. We are going to need a better pilot.” Taking the datapad in hand, Allya looked through it. It was perfect. She had been looking for one for a long time. “Good. I'll worry about the pilot.” Her voice was heavily filtered, making it difficult to figure out an accent or age. Pressing a button on her vambraces, she nods. “Payment has been sent through. It was good doing business with you. If you find anything along these lines, let me know first.”

The two men double check another datapad, and once the transaction was done they nod. “Pleasure, and gotcha boss, will do.” They walk off, and Allya studies the device. It was all set up for her, all that prepwork, but by the force who could she get to do this? Hmmm. Eyes look up, and she spots a certain bouncer, feeling a slight shiver in the force. Perhaps this one? Did he have the skills...was he desperate? No time like the present to find out.

Sliding up Ravnos, the short, armored girl looked up at him. “Good evening.”

[member="Ravnos"]
 

Liuna

Guest
L
Liuna stood in the shadows, harbored in the darkness of a back alley. From her current vantage point, she could see her destination: a club. The neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, and the music could be heard where she waited. Wearing a simple ensemble of black, she had finished off her look with a leather jacket — her favorite leather jacket.

Pulling a data pad from her pocket, she began to type furiously. Clubs like this generally had a guest list, it would be a simple way to enter without much fuss. If her name had already been on the list, that is. The slicer woman had an appointment to keep tonight, she’d need to get in quickly.

Tapping into the club’s system, she navigated her way to the guest list and added an alias to it. A smile appeared in her face, illuminated by the glow of her data pad.

“Gotcha,” she said, chuckling as she shoved the device back into her pocket. Of course, she could have easily slipped a few credits into the right hands, but where was the fun in that?

She stepped forward, walking in the darkness. A Mirialan could never go out without drawing attention. She twisted a ring on her left hand, and emerged from the alley in disguise. Her green-hued skin had been transformed into a shade of olive, and the markings on her face were covered. By appearances, she’d look the part of a human woman. The satisfied grin remained.

Her boots took her across the street and over to the line of people waiting to get in. Posture tall and confident, Liuna skipped to the front – drawing some rude remarks from those behind her... but she ignored them.
 
Ravnos worked his way through the crowd confidently, letting the beat guide him. He sensed something was amiss though and as he searched for it he saw a wave of commotion move through the crowd. It was not like the crowd was moving in terror or due to conflict but the kind of wave you sense when people change their focus all at once. This left a chill ripple down his spine, for it was clearly coming his way... then through the dance floor came a small figure dressed in armor and above all packing heat. Narrowing his eyes at the weapons, for such was frowned upon in his opinions. Years working in the military had certainly taught him a variety of weaponry and how to use it all well, but there was always something inside of him that considered it a shortcut and so... permanent. If you took down a person in hand to hand, you dominated them and they knew it. If you hit someone with a blaster, usually they rarely knew what hit them.

As the woman, he assumed, slid up to him... standing out like a sore thumb in such an establishment; she said, "Good evening." To which his response could be nothing but a nod at first, but he knew that would hardly suffice. Someone did not come down into a club like this packing armor and weapons, just to look for casual conversation. Perhaps it was the MegaCorp merc in him, but he felt a certain respect for the woman before him. Like she was a superior in rank and when she spoke it was with an authority. To this Ravnos just quirked a smile as he nodded to the woman.

"Can I help you?" Ravnos said, amused and knowing that this was going to be an interesting night.

---
ooc: tried to post 3x, hope this one goes through.
 
[member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Liuna Ondizi"] [member="Ravnos"]

She arrived from getting a beer at the bar just in time to see several women surround a ragged looking guy. Well he looked somewhat down on his luck, and years of working in the Naboo Marines had sharpened her perception. He was surrounded, and guessing from the weapons on one of the ladies it might no have been a social call.

Either way, she was content to see what happened. But the small itch in her consciousness told her to go there, and see what was up. That familiar feeling of exasperation at her own goody two shoes kindness gripped her gut.

She rolled her eyes, and closed in, armed only with a concealed Service Knife from her days in the Marines.

"Excuse me there. You ok bud?"

She also recognized a fellow warrior when she saw one. This guy looked even rougher up close. He'd certainly seen his share of scuffles.
 
Allya tilted her head, and looked at the man, hardened, grizzled, eyes that had seen to much, done to much. In her armor, the young girl smiled. Hands came up, away from her weapons, so that there was no mistaking she wasn't looking for a fight. “Ah, just thought you could use a drink, if I'm being honest. Have any interesting stories to tell?” Her voice came out through the filter, masking her age, and intentions.

As the other woman came up and talked to the man, the sithling took the measure of this one as well. The Mandalorian eyed her up and down. Pretty. Perhaps another pilot, didn't look as desperate though, but, better to just wait and see how this played out. If she lost the game, she lost nothing at all.

“If you need to save him from getting a drink, we may have a problem. Though, some people do need saving from drinking, but, those are usually passed out on the floor.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for an answer. “If I'm being honest, I'm looking for good stories, and a good pilot. Not looking for trouble....at least not tonight.”

[member="Cait Sandusky"] [member="Ravnos"] [member="Liuna Ondizi"]
 
Lifelong Nerd, Roleplayer, Writer and Philosopher
[member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Cait Sandusky"] [member="Ravnos"] [member="Liuna Ondizi"]

Riskyr Trafnal's lanky, petite form, at nearly five and a half feet tall, felt terrible this evening. Depression was ravaging her mind, and the single drink she had had (illegally) in this busy nightclub had done little to ease her mind. Dressed in a dark green tank top, loose-fitting cargo pants and wearing her dark blue hoodie tied by the arms around her thin waist, the teenage Bothan sported a sad look as she sat alone in a dark corner of the nightclub, nearest the stage. Such a vantage point gave her an all-encompassing view of the entire area, and her position near the front of the stage enabled her to be largely ignored. Indeed, only a waitress droid had bothered her, and merely to take her drink order at that. Thirty minutes later, as the lommin ale had burned away the pain of homesickness a little and a light sheen of sweat had begun to cling to her tan fur and scarlet hair, the Bothan, not feeling much better, had decided to call the evening quits and retire into her ship where her damn secretary droid of war awaited her.

Riskyr had donned her hoodie properly, even despite the threat of the pressure cooker of dancing, writhing flesh that had initially caused her to become overheated, furred hands stuffed into her pockets as the lonely folklorist had swiftly shoved her way through the crowd before her. Cries of annoyance, irritation, curses and raucous laughter assailed the lithe, short girl as she made her way over feet, above them, and between the shifting sea of bodies in various states of undress and even more eccentric forms of clothing on those that were modestly clothed, all meant to catch the eye and provoke either arousal or envy. None of these thing, however, mattered to the sorrowful Bothan. She just needed to get back to the Maverick Jester and retire, hotels be damned.

Risk gestured rudely to a dreadlocked, gray-furred Wookiee who had, of all things, farted against one of her thighs as she had attempted to sidle past him. Glaring in annoyance and bearing her teeth at the much larger creature, she wrinkled her nose in disgust and angled her tapered ears back in a show of revulsion as the Wookiee arched his back against the fattest Gamorrean she had ever seen, his blue-gray flesh shining with sweat as he gyrated against the Wookiee's exposed backside, his body naked save for the leather thong that barely was serving to keep his remaining modesty intact, even as his thick, blubbery arms wrapped eagerly and lustfully around the furred alien in front of him, each grinning stupidly as they continued what they believed was dancing. Rather, the performance was swiftly devolving into a sight less then savory, and Risk was secretly glad the establishment didn't cater to children in any way...

Shaking her head and failing to suppress her gag reflex, the lanky tomboy continued to make her way towards the exit, keeping as far from the... The hedonists as possible. She had only wanted a drink and to people watch as a way to escape her homesickness, not be gassed by a horny Wookiee... "This is why I should stick to libraries..." Risk cursed her stupidity as she looked up, hoping to finally see the exit.

However, her path was blocked by one of the club's bouncers and several other women, to boot. Standing just behind the bouncer, the lithe female removed her hands from her pockets and crossed them over her petite, boyish chest, clearing her throat noisily as she did so. Growing impatient and oddly temperamental, Riskyr decided she had finally had enough for one evening, her voice laced with anger as her medium tone echoed her fury towards the bouncer. "Wanna take your kriffing four-way somewhere else or are you gonna make yourself useful and show me a way out of here!?! Maybe I should fart on one of you, but I don't want to risk getting involved in anything too weird this KRIFFING evening! Chaos take me, I need some SLEEP!"
 
[member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Last-Nerd-Bard"] [member="Liuna Ondizi"] [member="Ravnos"]

"Oh right then!"

She set down her beer on the table and pulled out a chair with her boot.

Then she extended her hand.

"Captain Cait Sandusky. I got plenty of tales, if you wanna hear em."
 

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