Roman Nicholas
Character
OOC INFO:
Location: Neutral Spacer Cantina in Coronet City
Tags:
Valery Noble
_________________________________
The air inside the Coronet City Cantina was a thick, hazy soup of cheap spice smoke, spilled Corellian ale, and the multi-lingual murmur of spacers, smugglers, and a few local lowlifes. Tucked away in a dark booth near the back exit, Roman nursed a glass of Amber liquid, his eyes lazily tracking the room while his mind remained completely sharp.
Beneath the edge of the heavy table, his right hand rested within a split-second reach of his holstered DL-44, despite him not being the best shot and the quickest draw, he still had to take precautions for the sake of his own survival.
The cantina's front door hissed open, letting in a brief gust of humid, neon-lit street air. Roman took a slow sip from his glass, his gaze instinctively shifting toward the entrance as a goon from the Corellian Exchange had entered, searching for someone else, he wasn't here to bother Roman, nor was the goon here to bother anybody else, the goon's body language has suggested that, that was enough for Roman. For once, his mind wasn't fixed onto thinking about improving his business or taking a freelance pilot gig. He was just relaxing, content to fade into the background as the neon night rolled on outside.
Location: Neutral Spacer Cantina in Coronet City
Tags:
Valery Noble
_________________________________
The air inside the Coronet City Cantina was a thick, hazy soup of cheap spice smoke, spilled Corellian ale, and the multi-lingual murmur of spacers, smugglers, and a few local lowlifes. Tucked away in a dark booth near the back exit, Roman nursed a glass of Amber liquid, his eyes lazily tracking the room while his mind remained completely sharp.
Beneath the edge of the heavy table, his right hand rested within a split-second reach of his holstered DL-44, despite him not being the best shot and the quickest draw, he still had to take precautions for the sake of his own survival.
The cantina's front door hissed open, letting in a brief gust of humid, neon-lit street air. Roman took a slow sip from his glass, his gaze instinctively shifting toward the entrance as a goon from the Corellian Exchange had entered, searching for someone else, he wasn't here to bother Roman, nor was the goon here to bother anybody else, the goon's body language has suggested that, that was enough for Roman. For once, his mind wasn't fixed onto thinking about improving his business or taking a freelance pilot gig. He was just relaxing, content to fade into the background as the neon night rolled on outside.