Public Just wanted a drink...

[Khal "Kal" Garran]

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Planet: Corellia
Objective: None (Open Social Thread)
Tagged: None

Notes: ((Just a starter thread for my character to start kicking the dust off of my forum roleplay bones.))

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One bad hand, a bit too eager pot, and the sudden sight of the man being hauled out of the cantina and all but tossed into the streets outside, still managing to stumble and hit the ground as the bouncer inside called out some less than beautiful comments in their native tongue. The Keshirin man sliding his fingers through his dreads, sliding himself off of the ground and taking a moment to dust off his attire. Calling back at the door in equally, unsavory, fashion. "Come on! Another hand and I'm back in! I'm good for it!" The men inside heckling him, a mixture of comments returned that regardless of which one a bystander elected to focus on? Painted the same picture. The man had lost his credits gambling, and if he didn't have the credits to drink then he didn't have the credits to idle inside the cantina any longer. Though following that, the actual reasoning for his removal became nothing short of a game of reason. If it was his actual lack of credits, if it was him angering someone or two, if it was him trying to pocket credits. Whatever the case, the crowd did eventually die down and the door to the Cantina itself slammed shut behind them. The man starting back toward the door in a bit of anger, but it had been intentionally sealed behind the others to prevent any further customers for a moment. Fist clashing against the metal of the door with an echo, swearing under his breath before he would pull away. A moment spent just wandering away from the small crowd that had taken amusement or interest in the display.

Only after he managed to find a small alley to duck into a moment did he let himself press his back to one of the aligned buildings, dropping down on his bottom as he slid his fingers back through his dreads once more. A laugh to himself in mixture of both amusement as well as exhaustion leaving him as he closed his eyes, head resting back against the wall. He had came to Corellia to try to work with a shipyard or two to get some repairs for his ship, praying he could barter with them and offer services in place of credits. Already his luck suffering as there was far too little work to go around to pay for actual employees for them to offer a handout for parts. A drink to swallow down his frustrations while he sought work quickly turning into one too many hands of Pazaak until he couldn't afford either to buy in, or even pay for the drinks he had ordered. Now here he was, a washed up bum if eyes would fail to indicate he was anything but sitting in an alleyway on wit's end. He had enough fuel to bounce a few planets around, so he was far from stranded, but work was becoming a struggle. Another soft chuckle as he mentally reviewed his situation before words left him, just a bit too loud at the moment to keep the situation to himself. "Damn it..."

 

[Veino Garn]

Veino started at the sound of words from around the corner and his hand dropped to the blaster at his hip, but no further noises came, except some muffled words. He let out a long breath and ran the back of his hand across his brow. Still, he needed to check it out. The trail of the crime-lord had led to Corellia from the Outer Rim, based on the reconstructed evidence released by the senator of Kalist. He just needed to tie things off.

The Outer Rim did not forget. Nor did it forgive. Others might overlook them and forget, but they did not. He had been compiling a list of criminals, both of the war kind and the normal kind, to submit to the League Council, along with evidence for arrest warrants, or at least bounties or letters of marque.

They would bring them to justice, regardless of where they hid. No longer would criminals, imperials, or corporate dictators exploit the people of the Outer Rim with impunity. Justice would find them eventually.

His informant was late, however, which was causing Veino more than some concern. He stepped around the corner, squinting at the shapes in the gloom. Some sort of humanoid with dreadlocks was slumped down against the alleyway.

"Tough luck, kid?" Veino asked, leaning against the corner. He didn't try to sense anything or use the Force. Nobody else would be sitting down in an alleyway in a seedy part of town if their life was on the upswing.

Khal "Kal" Garran

 

[Khal "Kal" Garran]

Kal's focus had been skyward for a long period, taking some time to just parse over his thoughts and try to plan for his next move, but that was when a voice broke him out of the trance for a moment. Eyes tracing over to Veino for an extended period, almost trying to get a read of the man, before he simply relaxed his head back against the wall again. A bit of a grin on his face as he went to reply, absently patting the pockets of his vest as he did so. "You know what they say. You win some, you lose some... Got to imagine that if I lose just enough of them I'm in for a hot streak, eventually, right?" Despite the position he was in? His words kept a bit of playfulness to them better fitting for an uplifted situation, but Kal wasn't the type to let things keep him battered down for long.

His hands pulling out a small flask, shaking it a moment to realize he'd already finished off his 'emergency' supply of booze before letting out a bit of a grumble, another swear under his breath before smiling back over to Veino a moment. The man's own skin lightly shifting, the tone growing a bit more of a relaxed shade of light purple as his mood died down, far from an optical illusion either. Offering out the flask as a display, as more playful banter would quickly follow. "Though personally? I'd be in better sports with it all if those loses came with a complimentary drink or two, haha!" A wide grin almost plastered on with every word the man offered out.

Veino Garn

 

[Veino Garn]

Khal "Kal" Garran

The youth’s words brought a snort and a low, cynical laugh from Veino. He shook his head slightly and leaned his back against the wall, resting his forehead on the back of his hand for a moment.

“Well,” he said at last, “That’s what they say, but I’ve found some losing streaks never end, no matter how long you fish your luck out.”

He shrugged his shoulders beneath his great coat and eyed the flask with half a smile. “At least it’ll keep you warm, right?”

His eyes scouted around the alleyway again, resting lightly on hunched figures as they moved through the dim light at the far end. None turned or even hinted at coming in.

Concerning. His informant had either bailed or been intercepted. He’d have to be very careful and trace the steps back. Had they been compromised? There was no way of knowing.

“There’s a dive across the street,” Veino said after a moment, “I’ll go buy a round. Least I can do for someone else apparently down on their luck. Maybe things’ll turn around.”

And there was a window facing the alley, should his informant arrive, or if there was an observation team.

 

[Khal "Kal" Garran]

There was a pleased and excited laugh from the man as he pushed himself back up to his feet at the mention of food, flask tucked back into one of the many pockets of his vest and a brief moment spent to dust off his form again. Grinning ear to ear as he spoke out again, "Never going to turn down a free meal, luck bad or good. Especially in this economy!" Cackling again as he was already starting toward the Dive in question, shifting his form to walk backwards for the most part to face Veino as he continued the barrage of words. If anything, atleast, Kal didn't appear to be anything more than just an overtalking and excitable humanoid. Anyone Veino was trying to avoid, or keep eyes open for, Kal didn't seem to make either mark. "You'd think that they would have work to go around for everyone. I'm about another couple days from just sucking up my luck and throwing darts at a 'Help Wanted' list just to get the credits to refuel and get out of this place."

Veino Garn

 

[Veino Garn]

Khal "Kal" Garran

"War is never good for any economy," Veino agreed, "The only assured job then is soldiering and that's a risk. Everything else..." He just shrugged. "Even an economy dedicated to warfare bleeds itself out over time."

The other being's last words caught his attention and Veino paused at the edge of the street, looking up down for traffic, and checking the windows for the glint of weapon sights or observation lenses.

Nothing that he could see, so he stepped across the street and headed towards the restaurant. "You've got a ship?"

A ship and no credits was always an interesting, and very difficult situation. Desperation, certainly, but also the tension of owning something worthwhile but not having access to credits. "And nobody is hiring for courier or charters?"