Journey's Rest

[Placeholder 0128]

Coruscant, Entertainment District, Hangman's Folly, 19:32

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The band in the corner...​

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The smoke was irritating his lungs.

Cedric clinked glasses with another of the soldiers that passed by, mumbling some form of congratulations as the younger man went off to join his friends. The bar was packed with Imperium soldiers. The House of Lords had just declared Coruscant 'secure' after the last of the errant warlords was put in chains. Pay bonuses had been divvied throughout the armed forces, and several of the garrisons were let loose into the night as a reward for their services.

The bars of the entertainment districts were filled to the brim with young men and women looking to spend their newly earned credits, and those that wished to profit off of them. Cedric didn't begrudge them that - even holy warriors needed some time to rest.

This particular place, Hangman's Folly, styled itself like a saloon from the popular westerns of old. It wasn't Cedric's usual haunt, but it was close to the Imperial Palace, and most of his favored soldiers were all present. Nowhere better to be, even if the air was choked with smoke from the many intoxicated patrons.

"You look a lot less fancy out of those robes, my Imperator," one of the older Essonians said as he clapped a hand on Cedric's shoulder.

The Jedi looked up with hazy eyes from his drink. "They're not always my style Robbie."

Robbie, a clean shaven, bare headed, dark skinned, and particularly short individual cracked a grin. "Coulda me fooled me. Haven't seen you in plainsclothes in years."

Cedric just shrugged. "Times change. Where your boys at?"

Robbie waved a hand over toward a throng of young men gathered around a pazaak table. "Burning all those credits the House gave us. Care to join? Got a nice little Mirilian girl that's been giving you the eyes." Cedric lofted a brow, and followed his friend's gaze toward a lightly clothed woman that was leaning suggestively over the table. Their eyes met, and the Jedi waved.

"Not really my cup of tea Rob," Cedric intoned as he turned back to his friend, "You all have fun. I'll catch up. Just clearing my head right now," the Jedi raised his glass of Balmoraan Bluesky. Robbie gave him a brief look of concern, then shrugged. "Whatever you say boss. Remember Ession."

Cedric thumped a fist over his heart. "Remember Ession."

Left to his own devices, Cedric turned back to the drink he'd been nursing. He wasn't feeling the festive spirit as brightly as his comrades. He was only here to let his boys know that he cared - were he free to do as he wished, he probably would've taken a long walk through the Coruscant streets. There was more than a little on the veteran Jedi's mind tonight.

"Can I get another Bluesky man?" He asked of the portly bartender.

 

[Val Drutin]

“Excuse me… pardon me…” Val muttered, squeezing his way past a group of tipsy soldiers standing a little too close to an archway.

The Entertainment District was even more congested than usual. He was vaguely aware that something important had happened—a conflict of significance had been resolved, battles fought, people died—but it hadn’t much affected him. However, he was hoping to take advantage of the throngs of people who would soon be needing cheap transport to other planets now that things had settled down.

Smoke rose from the bars where men and women, some still clad in battered armor, were nursing their drinks. Another group of soldiers, accompanied by a scantily-clad woman, left one of them and headed in Val’s direction. It was clear that they intended to, ahem, take the woman somewhere private. Not wanting to interfere, Val side-stepped the group… and noticed they had left one man behind. Odd that he wouldn't accompany his friends—assuming they were his friends. Perhaps he was down on his luck. Perhaps he was looking for a fresh start...

"Excuse me—" he began, catching the lone man’s attention. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride off-world, would you?”

Cedric Grayson

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

'What am I doing in places like this again?',​

the Verpine thought to himself as he approached a group of soldiers unintentionally blocking the entrance. ​

He had seen men and women act like this near bars before, but he had never seen such a concentration of soldiers doing so, all in one spot. Was he even allowed to enter in here? Before he could come to a conclusion, he was brushed forward by a tall, broad-shouldered, soldier walking past who likely didn't even see him. He pressed forward, walking through gaps or even pushing aside those blocking his path. Some drunk patrons noticed his presence upon contact with a "Whoa! Look at that one!", before laughing with their pals and quickly forgetting about him.

Chkhoz soon found himself in a clearing within the bar. He looked around for anything interesting, but everything around him seemed like a waste. 'This whole place is a waste of time and credits... I should get back to the Traders...' He thought, once again. It was his first time on the planet, and his experience was turning out to be nothing short of strange.

He noticed a pair of men that were considerably less active than the rest of the lot. For some reason, they seemed similar to him, despite how different they looked from behind. After waiting for a moment, he was ready to go, but something subtle deep inside him urged on him to stay just a while longer. This was odd, as he never liked to overstay his welcome, especially so when he has no intention of fumbling with his words and spending credits.

[member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Val Drutin"]

 

[Alyson Halle]

Bars. Alyson knew her way around them, probably more than a master Jedi her age should. They tended to attract scum, villainy, social deviants, and the worst class of people: wine tasters. Some people managed to make a sport out of wine tasting, one that Alyson did not particularly understand, nor wished to, but that wasn't important right now. She was trying to meet her old friend.

If she were younger this sort of meeting would attract the wrong sort of attention, two people who had been serving with each other as long as they had, meeting at a bar, it wouldn't be hard to make assumptions. Luckily she was an old woman now. It made that sort of gossip die quickly.

The bar was crawling with soldiers, Essionian, Meridian, and various others, celebrating their victory in a ravenous rapport that could be heard for miles. They were everywhere, in every bar they could get their hands on, blowing away their pay bonuses on booze, women, and games of chance. Jedi tended to be barred from such games of chance, precognition tended to make it just a bit unfair. The meridian troops called out to their empress as she made her way down the street. Whistles and cheers. It made her feel like she was doing a good job. She could tell the cheers were genuine, their strings showed it. She felt proud.

Finally, she made it to the bar. It was mostly Essionian troops, but there were a few Meridians scattered about. War changes constantly but the men who fight it are always cut from the same cloth. They can bond over their shared experience. The scene would be perfect except for one disturbance. A dark side user, one who wasn't even making the slightest attempt to hide the aura he let off. On a worse day she would have cut him down where he stood. She was feeling charitable today, she would tolerate his presence.

He was talking to Cedric, with a force sensitive insectoid standing off in the distance, looking like he was horribly lost. That would need to be rectified.

Alyson sat next to Cedric, hearing the tail end of the question offered to Cedric. "I would watch your tongue offworlder, you speak to a man of great standing." She said with a smug tinge to her voice, indicating that she meant it in jest.

"I didn't know you were trying to get away so quickly Cedric. Already tired of ruling?" She said patting her liege on the back. Giving a handsignal to the serving droid with her free hand. It was a form of sign language, it was useful to giving droids orders without actually having to speak.

The lonely looking bug-man still looked rather overwelmed. She would pity him for now.

"Hey! Bug man! Why don't you come have a seat! Don't be a stranger~!"

[member="Chkhoz Pikeyy"] [member="Val Drutin"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

Chkhoz watched as the woman walked past him, and then began to speak to him. He was only able to make out "Bug", "man", and "you", from her Basic, but her delivery of the lines indicated that whatever her statement towards him was, it was more than welcoming.

This warm welcome perked the Verpine spacer right up as he confidently strode to the counter.

The woman was clearly a bit older, and more interested in the pair of men at the counter than the drinks... which likely meant she was also wise. This could be an opportunity for him to practicing speaking, it's not often that he meets with patient people.

Then he saw the serving droid, if all else fails, it may have the Verpine language available for translation.

He sat down and hunched over the counter, turning to his left to get the full party in view.

[member=Alyson Halle] [member=Val Drutin] [member=Cedric Grayson]

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

{ Location: En-route to the Hangman's Folly }​

{ Wearing: This }​

{ Tags: Open! }​

~ † ~​

An overtaking urban duet, entirely dissonant to offworlders but mellifluous to the acclimated locals, of street chatter backing the wizzing of hover traffic filled the nurse's ears. Soon enough, a voice nearby cut into it: "Oh. Couldda fooled me; you look like of of 'em fancy ADAs."

Prenn looked over at the Essonian escorting her from the Imperial place and laughed heartily. "I do feel a bit like a lawyer. It's been a while since I did any administrative work."

"We're all glad you're doing it," he quickly added. "Lord Imperator says ya really know your stuff. Gonna get our medics' heads on straight?"

"That's the goal I'm told," she replied with a forward nod as they came to a bar he had pointed out. A favorite of the Legion, apparently due mostly to its proximity to HQ. "We'll see how I do."

"Swimming', 'm sure, ma'am." Moving to open the door for Prennis, he also inadvertently delivered it's coughed up cloud of smoke into her face.

She didn't seem to mind, though, and rose a hand to swipe at the miasma before walking inside. There, she turned back to the solider who had since followed her, allowing the threshold to swing shut behind him. He looked as if he was about to ask what was wrong, eyebrows knit together like young, fuzzy space slugs, before Prenn reached out for his upper arm and gave a friendly squeeze. "Cheers, Trevin. Enjoy your time off."

"Always do." With a respectful grin, Trevin wandered off, leaving Prenn to turn back around. She felt it, finger-light tingles spreading across her face and down her neck; this smoke was doing her holographic matrix no favors. It didn't feel too bad though, so hopefully no one noticed. And, on top of that, how much dry cleaning would her clothes need to mask the stench they already absorbed?

 

[Val Drutin]

Despite the enthusiastic greetings and cheers she received upon arrival, Val hardly noticed the older woman (Alyson Halle) until she opened her mouth. He blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing at her words. An off-worlder? Well, he supposed he technically was, though Coruscant had more or less become his official home planet. But there was an undercurrent of genuine malice beneath her faux-smug tone. For whatever reason, she didn’t like him… in fact, she loathed him, though they had never met before.

His mood began to blacken, but his anger and offense faded just as quickly as they had come. He didn’t need to deal with her—his business was with the man at the bar, who had yet to answer his question. “There are travelers in every class of people, no matter how famous or important,” he said, gesturing with an air of theatrical confidence.

But before he could get a reply, an insectoid alien (Chkhoz Pikeyy) approached at the woman’s call, sidling up to the bar and watching the three of them with interest. Well, he’d never had a bug aboard, but he supposed if the man refused he could extend his offer to the alien as well...

One more thing caught his attention. A woman (Prennis Keeoli) entered the bar through the archway, which had since been cleared of obstructions. Squinting, Val could just faintly pick up on a faint, hazy glow around her body. A glow that seemed to flicker slightly, disrupted by all the smoke floating around. His gaze swept over her briefly, wondering what that was all about. Regardless, he made a mental note of her presence as another possible traveler in need of transport.

Swiping at imaginary dust on his sleeve, he looked up at the man once again. “Well?”

Cedric Grayson

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Socials..nobody holds a social like the Dathomiri Nightsisters, of course a social is always a ritual, and a ritual always involves sacrifice. The communion with the Fanged God, now that is a ritual sacrifice that nobody would dare turn down being the sacrifice of honor. Death by org-…seriously no explanation should be needed.

Drinking is child's play to the darksider; even the Sith didn't party like they had any clue what the body could withstand. If ever there were a battle to the blood through liquor, Pomsty would be the one to designate your contestant. Potions are where its at with spice and liquor as nothing but flavor enhancers.

She never did well at these events, even being directly invited. People just don't trust Nightsisters. Some buy her potions, mostly healing or chocolates infused with love potion. It paid the bills, when there were bills to pay. For her hands to toil over a plot of garden, she makes due and wants for nothing much more. Her new place of residency is so far secluded from society, and normalcy for all it entails, therefore nobody stepped forward to demand rent of her.

Culture shock..the feeling of being an outsider never wears off, and this slice of the galaxy happens to be the ultimate portrayer of everything opposite to what she has previously been introduced. She buried her expectations derived through past negative experiences, and she arrived nonetheless, the silent wallflower settled down in the darkened corner of the room. Something however is far different than her time spent among other factions of people, for she has changed dramatically, yet identifies that there is so much farther she has to go, by witnessing those around her.

The Ashla whispered within her mind almost consistently Her lessons so very alien to this woman's newfound conscience.

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline didn't often visit the bars, especially ones that were... Like this. The feel to it was different, though, and she couldn't help but like it in some way. It wasn't bad, no, but the smoke was a bit irritating. Her eyes glanced down to the drink in front of her - a small sip.

She found herself here because of a very, very rough day. But a happy day. The end of the warlords was momentous. The soldiers celebration was joyful. And the payout they got was a little boom to an economy that had been struggling - at least on her level. And so she found herself wearing a light blue top, a darker blue tiered dress, and a head with a messy bun with strands falling around her cheeks.

The smoke in the room made small, quiet coughs escape. Her green-blue eyes scanned the crowd, once more. Half the fun was just people watching, even if she noticed some of the people in the crowd like the Lord-Imperator.

Another drink out of her cup as she felt the burn of a soda down her throat. She'd seen what liquor did to people, what it brought out. Sure, it was fine every now and then but it was just too early to jump into that. Her head bobbed tot he music, knowing it wasn't something she was used too, but she liked it. It kept her calm in the crowd, especially as the smoke continued to congest the air around her. But it helped her focus, too. The shelter had seen better days, and despite everything she was doing and trying to do, every day seemed harder. More worse.

Today was a little brighter though. People, at least in her little bubble, had an energy they hadn't had in years. She could only hope they could capitalize and build on that.

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

'tra-vel...-errs?' He thought, attempting to interpret the complex and compounding reaches of Galactic Basic.

'importa-o-famo-??' Wait... '...importofamouz-'

Blast! I very much doubt that is correct in the slightest... I think it's already time to try for help...

Facing away for a second, Chkhoz turned to an idle serving droid to the right of him.

He spoke his alien language in a low, almost whisper, to try and garner the attention of the droid as it silently buffed the same cup that it had been wringing for the past minute.

"...Hello? Droid? Can you hear me?"

"Can you understand? Understand me?"

It stopped fiddling with the glass. rotated on some sort of axis, and gazed blankly at the insectoid.

Did it not know Verpine? Really?

Seconds passed, but it became more apparent that the figurative and/or literal gears in the droid's head were, in fact, turning.

"Yes...I hear you. Verpine is a...rare... language to hear in a bar. I regret to inform you that we do not sell anything suitable to the Verpine Diet today other than water."

He was surprised that the service bot pulled through, this may make communication with his new patron party much easier.

"No, that won't be a problem. You can still help me, if you're not busy here. I cannot speak Basic well."

"I won't keep you from your work, but keep an ear out for when I want to talk."

The droid turned back to its original position and began to wipe a dry counter without even looking at it. Pikeyy also returned to his attentive state, but he then realized he should have asked the droid to interpret the basic to him too. He let out what would be the Verpine equivalent of a chuckle, briefly holding his hands over his head.

The thing was, most Verpine were able to speak Basic due to their uniform education, but Chkhoz Pikeyy was always assigned 'wire checking' or 'materials sorting' in places where something like Galactic Civics should have been. The tasks were boring and not at all challenging, but still gave Chkhoz a lot of peace and solidarity throughout his youth. Still, of all the bugs to leave the hive, the one most unprepared to do so is the first to fly to coop? Why didn't he ever speak up? Did he ever speak up? He only remembered being eager to leave the rocks of Roche those few years ago.

I am home to many regrets... but there is still time to grow. Right? Always time to get better...

[member="Val Drutin"] [member="Alyson Halle"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Val Drutin]

The man at the bar finally stirred from his thoughts... and said no. Drat. And to think Val had waited all this time, all these seconds...

Val whirled around as Chkhoz Pikeyy began making strange, garbled noises. He picked up on what sounded like a mangled attempt at Basic… or was the bug mocking him? His brow furrowed sullenly. Wasn’t everyone supposed to be happy now that the conflict had ended? Why was everyone treating him so poorly? He only wanted to be helpful...

Val had exaggerated his hurt feelings to the point where he was nearly on the verge of bursting into tears when the bug caught the attention of the droid. The two conversed in the alien’s own language in what sounded like a conspiratorial whisper, and the droid did not translate what the bug had said for Val to hear.

Sadness gave way to intense, overblown annoyance. He would not tolerate being ridiculed behind his back. Reaching across the counter, he grabbed hold of the droid and demanded, “What did the bug say?”

The droid’s servos whirred. “The Verpine does not speak Basic well, and requested I serve as a translator. Please release me, I have duties to perform…”

“Uh-uh—I’m not finished,” Val said, still holding the droid back. He grinned mischievously. “Ask him if he wants a ride back to his homeworld.”

 

[Tobias Dracks]

Location: Imperium Judiciary Central Detention Center

-- "Give us the location of your bosses base!!"

-- "Kark you Im-" The human was interrupted by the the fist of a droid crossing his face. The Constable Droid straightened up after the swing and the two officers in the room started to yell again.

-- "We know you work for the Gark Gang, we know they are hiding out in the Deep Core, and all routes out of the Deep Core are cut off," One of the Zabrak Officers nodded to the Droid, and the robot punched the criminal in the stomach. "Now TALK!!"

-- The Human officer just stood back as the pirate gasped for air, shaking his head he tapped on the one way glass behind him. Going through the glass would be the High Lord Tobias Dracks, Advisory to the Imperator. The pirate was found stealing Old Republic Weapons Tech, and he only assumed that the Imperial Faction was involved. He watched as the Droid continued to smack the man around, then he stopped caring. He tapped on the window and began to walk out of the interrogation room.

-- Behind him the pop of a blaster pistol could be heard.

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Location: Hangman's Folly
Time: After

-- The day was long and Coruscant was finally cleaned up, he had little help in that. Supply lines and goods needed to be transported to the Imperium Capital, for it relied on the import of most things. The other Lords fought over territory while Tobias tried to find way to keep the populace from starving and eventually revolting. Small attempts from the Imperial Faction were getting on his nerves, recruitment centers, confiscation of supplies, and the occasional mention of nationalization. He was alone in most battles, only supported by the people in some cases due to his acts of compassion on the small folk of Coruscant.

-- He walked up to a corner of the bar, tapping his knuckles on the counter and nodding at the bartender, "Usual?" Asked the barkeep, and the High Lord now dressed as a common man just nodded.

-- The Politician rarely drank before, now he grabbed a tall glass of tap on his way to and from the Imperial Palace. Drox lived in the Three Nations City just outside of Galactic City, so he stopped by here more often then he would like to admit. He noticed the Imperator, as well as the Jedi General, he knew both of them, but did not care to mention much to them. He was on personal time, no House of Lords time. So he just sat there, accepting his place in his new life and sipping the drink placed before him.

-- Acting like a normal man.

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

Chkhoz watched silently as the man cycled through a variety of emotions. He wasn't sure why he was so intense; regardless it made the unarmed insectoid ever-the-more uncomfortable. Still, he could sympathize with the hints of sadness that the man displayed.

The droid was graced a moment to right himself, and did so in a dignified manner. He then promptly repeated [member="Val Drutin"] 's question to the Verpine in his language.

"Apologies, I do not need to return to Roche. I want more, something more than serving The Hive and it's restricting tasks. On the contrary, would you have any technical work aboard your ship that I could look into for you? I am low on credits, but, very capable."

Pikeyy spoke his native tongue quite elegantly as he spoke, lifting his hands as he had seen many humans do as they spoke. His tone was disarming, even if the noises he made were an intricate series of clicks, growls, and sibilant sounds.

With a small turn, the serving droid relayed the message while turning a sink on for no apparent reason, then turning it off again and returning to the bar where the four of them were sitting.

 

[Val Drutin]

Val’s eyebrows knit together. Chkhoz Pikeyy was clearly making an effort to appear polite, but he couldn't help feeling at least mildly offended at the (imagined) insinuation he was trying to charge people for passage in a junk ship.

The Stardust was indeed in need of repairs. He’d inherited the ship from his master, who never seemed to bother with even routine maintenance, and she’d had the ship for who knows how long before it fell into his hands… Val shuddered, feeling a sudden chill at the memory of his late master. If this bug didn't charge too much, perhaps he could take advantage of the opportunity to find out how much longer he could go before he was forced to haul the old girl to the mechanic. Or the junkyard...

“Oh, certainly,” he said, leaning his elbow against the bar. His body language abruptly relaxed, and he put on his most charming smile. “Now that I think about it, the engine’s been making funny noises lately. It’s an older model, you see… I inherited it from a—a relative, and I don’t think she took very good care of it.” A note of nervousness came into his tone. “I’m assuming you’ll want to take a look at it before you name your price?”

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

By now, the droid gave it's speakers it's full attention, and continued to interpret for Chkhoz and Val for the time being.

"It is alright, I have been working on low-tech to mid-range ships for many years now. I am an enterprising individual, but I have no need for extortionist fees. My main goal is the procurement of-- property... If you would have any spare personal containers, like, per-say, a backpack, maybe a tool or two to put in it... that would be of great service to me."

Chkhoz had been searching through scrap piles aboard ships and junkyards for a couple of months now, and he found a lot of enjoyment in the idea of creating equipment for himself while on a budget.

How do you make investments for your future with few credits? You start with scrap.

He let out another warm laugh as he thought of what he had planned for his near and 'enterprising' future.

[member="Val Drutin"]

 

[Val Drutin]

“Property...” Val’s eyes widened. “Oh! What a coincidence! I also collect… er, spare parts and castoffs.” He was reluctant to admit aloud that he picked through trash, if only because others had reacted negatively to this knowledge in the past. “It’s all back at my ship. You can look through it while you’re at it.”

He leaped—his elation was such—away from the bar, and only managed to escape bumping into several people by way of his dancer’s grace. But then he hesitated, remembering why he was there in the first place. No, he couldn’t go back to the ship right now, not until he found at least one person willing to be his passenger. “Tell you what—I’ll send you the information, and we can arrange a meeting later. How’s that sound?”

Before Chkhoz Pikeyy could reply, Val was already searching the crowds for the woman he had seen enter earlier—Prennis Keeoli, the one with the strange hazy glow around her body. If he couldn’t find her, he could always go for someone else—like the blonde teenager Cataline Holt staring into her soda, or that spooky girl Pom Stych Tivé sitting in the corner. Or... well, maybe not the alien Tobias Dracks drinking on the other side of the bar. Val sensed he was like the man who had taken too long to answer his question—yet another "man of great standing" suffering from a bloated sense of self-importance. But there had to be someone in here who needed a ship, whether they were on a mission or just wanted to escape.

 

[Chkhoz Pikeyy]

Pikeyy rapidly looked back and forth from the man who was now scampering around the bar, to the droid who was providing a translation for what he had just said. They would have to trade contact information before they left the bar.

"Erratic."

The verpine simply said, the droid repeating the sentiment in Basic shortly after.

Humans always act in such unpredictable ways. Very well, maybe soon I'll have enough components, or credits, available to forge myself something that can protect me and my assets on a more personal level.

He suddenly, and frantically, patted his sides down to check for his treasured Verpine Datapad. It itself wasn't too expensive, but dozens of incomplete designs of weapons and light machinery were stored within its memory. He found it like he had hundreds of times over, and checked to see that it was all intact; a near-hourly ritual he had formed the habit of conducting. Like the countless self-surveys he had conducted before, the datapad was fine. Chkhoz didn't like the position he was sitting in. He couldn't feel his treasure against his body for a moment there. So, with a swift motion, he adjusted to a more appropriate pose; one that allowed a hand to rest nearby its place on his belt.

A bag would be perfect right about now...

Easing up a smidgen, the insectoid returned his gaze to the two soldiers he had came to sit down with from the beginning. His focus returning, he was hoping he could come to a conclusion about what this odd premonition he felt earlier was. He thought about looking around again, but banished the idea when he then figured he might miss it if he tried to look for it actively.


[member="Val Drutin"] [member="Alyson Halle"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

It was fortunate that Alyson defended him, because Cedric had not been paying all that much attention. A brow was raised as the stranger arrived, asking of trips of world and if he needed one. The Jedi had parted his lips to speak, but his old friend had opted to do it for him. He gave the older woman a half amused look, before his gaze shifted back to the man ([member="Val Drutin"]) whom he'd angered with inaction.

"Sorry bud, I don't need a ride anywhere. Thank you for offering." He bowed his head slightly, before turning his gaze back to Alyson. "That Verpine ([member="Chkhoz Pikeyy"]) there," his voice lowered, "He's got the Force about him, but he isn't one of ours. Might be keen for you to do some of your magic," Cedric grabbed his glass by the rim, swishing the drink about slightly. "I would, but I'm a little bit off my A-game here." He gave Alyson a thankful smile, as if she'd already agreed to his request (he knew she would), and clapped her on the shoulder.

The glass was brought up to his lips as he lifted off the bar. The first person to catch his eye was [member="Tobias Dracks"]. He clapped a hand on the old warrior's shoulder, warmth in his voice as he spoke. "I'm surprised so see you out, vice-chancellor," Cedric snickered, "Been meaning to catch you off duty. I-"

He paused as [member="Cataline Holt"] stepped into the bar. Once again, Cedric's voice lowered. He was a bit conspiratorial tonight. "That one there's Miss Holt. She's big with the outreach programs here. Need to go say hi to her real quick."

Cedric stepped off once again - only to have his attentions stolen by someone he'd not expected to see. Two actually - [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] was not one he'd expected to meet in a bar. The other he'd invited though, and that required courtesy. The Jedi made a B-line toward [member="Prennis Keeoli"]. "Wasn't sure you'd be out tonight," The Jedi sounded amused, "Welcome to the Hangman's Folly," Cedric waved toward the rest of the establishment. "Don't drink the beer."

(Sorry for the late post. Had a crappy/busy week.)

 

[Val Drutin]

(OOC: No problem. I’ve edited my posts accordingly.)

Before Val had a chance to reach her, the glowy woman was overtaken by the Very Important Man from the bar. With a thin-lipped smile, Val turned away from her and went for his next option: Cataline Holt, the teen quietly sipping soda instead of liquor and coughing every now and then from the smoke. She looked a little lost and aimless, although he couldn't be sure of her exact age. If she was too young to pay for a trip, he'd have to move on to someone else.

He marched over to her at once, plopped down in the seat next to hers, and tried to channel some of his own energy into her, just to wake her up a bit. “Hey, how old are you?” he asked, completely oblivious as to the myriad of ways such a question might be interpreted by a stranger. “Would you like to get out of here? Want to go someplace else? Another planet, maybe?”

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline peopled watched. It wasn't always good to be active, and sometimes it was best to just... Relax. And so her eyes watched the variety of people in the Hangman. Plenty of drunks, which were always her personal favorite type of people watching. Who knew what kind of mess they could get themselves into. Good, bad, or inbetween, it was always a complete tossup.

A lot of important people were out in the Hangman tonight it seemed. A general, the Lord-Imperator, a Vice-Chancellor, and a variety of others mingled about the bar. It was refreshing to see people with power be out and about in the city. Cataline was a bit surprised she even found herself here - often preferring her work to staring at soda in a bar. Sometimes it just couldn't be helped, she guessed.

[member="Val Drutin"] appeared, rather suddenly, and it made her have the slightest jump. Her green-blue eyes stared at him for a moment. "Uh, why do you want to know my age? And also..." Leave? Was... Was he trying to get a romp with her? She scowled. "I'm fairly comfortable right here. And on Coruscant," she said suspiciously.

Perhaps a little too suspiciously.

[member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Chkhoz Pikeyy"] | [member="Tobias Dracks"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Prennis Keeoli"] | [member="Alyson Halle"]