Public Like A Stranger [Open]

[Eldin Daine]

Mos Eisley
Tatoonie

Mood Music

​

He had spent a couple of restless nights back home in the old dug out that was once his home. Taking care of business. Eldin had no use for the place anymore, it was filled with old ghosts and bad memories and his life had taken him to a better future if he decided to grab it with both hands. As a kid, he had formed friendships with the local children, however not one of them was here anymore. Either dead or escaped the sand pit like he did, he felt like a stranger in his own hometown.

For the last time, he shut the door on the place and handed over the keycard to the new owner, and for once in his life he did not want to hand over credits for it. As the card dropped into the woman’s hand, he looked at her children gathered around her legs, and he hoped that this place would provide them with a different set of memories and a roof over their heads at night.

Glaring sun and heat the only consistency in this place. The sand everywhere is forever shifting just like the residents but somehow it managers to get into your blood and travels with you no matter where you try to escape to, strangely Eldin had missed it, never thought he would. As he turned the corner following the back alleys to the main center of Mos Eisley, the wind kicked up around his long robe, that only meant one thing. A sandstorm was approaching.

Shutters slammed shut, people running in doors and vendors packing up stalls to hunker down until it passed. It was time for Eldin to find shelter and wait it out until he could head back to the Rusty Bucket and fly outta here. Probably better he did not go to the more popular cantinas after all he still had some outstanding gambling debts, not to mention stealing the winnings of a fight he was supposed to throw, and then there was the angry brother of a girl, a beautiful flower among the sand he had plucked, and frankly, he did not want to run into either of them. What was her name? for the life of him, he could not remember.

Dust kicked up into a swirl, he pulled one side of the keffiyeh covering his head to hide his face and the keeping out the sand as he turned off the main center and found a small cantina the locals called, Raider’s Tomb. Not much of a place, the entrance led to stairs which went underground, and opened into the bar. Sandstorms are good for business, the place filled with people dusting off their clothes and ordering something to wet their dry throats.

Eldin pushed his way to the bar and ordered a whiskey, no point in asking for ice.



Tadietti Tann | Nartaga | Chybo Fenn | Alistair Abbott

 

[Darth Quercus]

The corner booth held two beings.

One was a beefy Zabrak with Sith tattoos. He stared at the wall and drooled gently. He had no drink.

The other was a curled-up Neimoidian mechno-chair, upon which sat a potted flower arrangement. Against the pull of gravity, a bent straw siphoned a glass of expensive spring water into the pot's soil, one drop at a time.

 

[CLEM]

Someone had hooked speakers to the flat top of a rusty GNK droid. A classic tune by the Modal Nodes filled the cantina at background noise levels.

​

Would've been a great idea except the droid felt like singing along.

"Gonk gonk gonk gonk gonk-gonk gonk, gonk gonk gagagagagonk gagagonk."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok didn't normally frequent bars, especially not establishments like the Raider's Tomb, but in this particular instance he made an exception. An anonymous contact had asked to meet the archaeologist there, promising information on a Jedi Knight who had once exiled himself to the desert planet.

He had been waiting at the bar for some time, idly sipping room temperature water from a glass (given the climate, ice didn't seem worth the effort), yet the contact had failed to arrive. Now a sandstorm was brewing, and Nimdok couldn't even have the satisfaction of leaving on his own time.

His gaze wandered around the bar. Even in the stifling heat, the atmosphere was quite lively and unique. A wildly varied cast of strange characters occupied the immediate area alone, and the anthropologist in him couldn't resist staring, cataloging the details and intricacies of the life around him.

A droid had been wired with speakers that blared music, which the machine was singing along with in a slightly irritating manner. One of the booths was occupied by both a slack-jawed Zabrak and a potted plant which had been hooked up to a water dripper. Directly beside him sat a man wearing a keffiyeh, the traditional garb of every desert dweller across all worlds. Though his visage was still youthful and comparatively unmarked, Nimdok felt as if he could read the man's entire history in his face.

"A native to the planet," he mused, studying the fellow bar patron as if he were a specimen in the wild. "Born and raised here, probably in the slums. He left to find fortune, or for adventure, perhaps. But now he has returned, only to find an unrecognizable place full of unfamiliar faces where he once called home..."

The archaeologist's eyebrows rose in alarm as he realized - too late - that he had been thinking aloud.

CLEM Darth Quercus Eldin Daine

 

[CLEM]

People talking to themselves was a common occurrence here. Clem paid Jacen Nimdok no mind until the rusty GNK's circuit brought him around to the Nimoyesque archaeologist.

The Modal Node number cane to a jaunty finale for now. An eclectic selection of songs appeared on a cracked screen. A coin slot (scaled to accept Huttese peggats, truguts, and wupiupi) beckoned.

What music, if any, would Nimdok select to be played throughout the cantina?

 

[Alistair Abbott]

Location: Raider's Tomb, Mos Eisley - Tatooine
Status: Broke
Weapons: A Tea Towel

- - - - -
​

In Alistair’s opinion, nobody wanted to be on Tatooine. Most either found themselves out of luck or out of credits - now trapped on the sandy planet. Sure, there was the odd treasure hunter, but even they had trouble acclimating – sticking out like a sore thumb and eager to get back home. He certainly didn’t want to stick around but, after a job went south, he found himself with no money and no way out.

Bartending at the Raider’s Tomb was an okay gig, he supposed. With the poor pay, he’d only taken up the job so he could keep his ear to the ground. Mos Eisley was a hive of scum and villainy, to be sure, but profitable for those savvy enough.

He started his shift, donning his uniform in the back room before passing through the staff entrance. He’d barely made it into the bar before the sandstorm hit – fortunate considering how late he already was. With his boss distracted with the new clientele, he managed to get to the bar without a lecture.

The club was packed, likely due to the storm, and thirsty patrons were already crowding around. His coworker Bobby, a large Aqualesh, was already tending to his half of the counter. Alistair grabbed a clean towel and started working on his side, pouring out a whiskey for a man in a keffiyeh.

He paused briefly, taking in the other stranger at the bar. Had they met before? Something about the man seemed familiar. He shook his head, he still had plenty of work to do.

Eldin Daine Darth Quercus CLEM Jacen Nimdok ​

 

[Nartaga]

A caravan of beasts of burden made their way to the outskirts of Mos Eisley, carrying large reservoirs of water, the most precious resource on all of Tatooine. Those moisture farmers too poor to afford to cost and upkeep of more modern ways of transporting the fruits of their labor instead raised Dewbacks, Eopie and Ronto. Among them was a single bantha, an odd standout among the other pack animals in that the only thing it carried besides its saddlebags was a lone Tusken, riding with a worried look beneath with mask at the coming sandstorm. The Tusken brought the caravan of water merchants to a crawl. The leader, a Shistavaven male, rode up next to the Tusken on his Eopie mount. "Why are we stopping?" The hairy alien asked the Tusken with an annoyed tone. Nartaga silently pointed at the sandstorm, then to the city, then to the mask covering his head and face.

The Shistavaven rolled his eyes and pointed at the city with an agitated look on his face. "You shall get your payment when I get paid for this water. Just cover your face..." The Shistavaven paused awkwardly, realizing what he had just said to a Tusken Raider. "...more." Nartaga remained silent as he looked back to the sandstorm, pointing again at the rising cloud of sand to the wolfman, who just let out a growl and ordered the caravan to continue into the city. Nartaga stayed behind for a moment, letting most of the beasts pass him as he remained looking at the coming storm. The Tusken slung his gaderffii and a pack that had been tied to the bantha saddle over his shoulders and climbed down from his mount. Patashu groaned loudly, but stopped when her Tusken rider walked along her side with his gloved hand brushing along until coming to rest at her cheek. The Bantha shook her horned head in irritation, her tongue coming out and running itself along the Tusken's mask and torso, grasping at him. The Tusken petted the muzzle of his travelling companion and then rested his head upon it, before lifting up to meet the eyes of Patashu. The Bantha let out another groan, but this time slowly turned and started walking back into the wastes to return home. If anything were to happen in the Outsider city, Nartaga would have never been able to forgive himself if something happened to his bantha.

Nartaga pulled up the hood from his robes over his head then the dust cloth over the bottom portion of his facial mask, to hide his identity as much as possible as the caravan drew even nearer the city, with the storm picking up he passed as just another person trying to keep the course granular sand from reaching their lungs. Nartaga gained the attention of the Shistavaven moisture farmer once more, pointing at the sign to a cantina. The hairy alien looked away from the dark skinned human he was talking to for a just a moment, presumably the one buying the water, and waved a hand and nodded his head, only vaguely interested in anything other than the prospect of getting the most amount of credits as possible. Nartaga looked at the sign and tried to read it, only able to make out half of the wording. 'Raider', the shaman read to himself, not able to read the rest.

Thinking it a sign from the Suns, the Tusken Raider walked into the cantina, his hood and dust mask still over his Tusken mask, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible as he approached the bar and did a simple sign for water, taking the dirty glass the server gave him and holding it in both hands as he took a seat at the bar.

Eldin Daine Darth Quercus CLEM Jacen Nimdok Alistair Abbott​

 

[Chybo Fenn]

Chybo walked around in both fear and excitement. He had heard stories of Mos Eisley, but now he finally got to see it first hand. The more he explored, the more he realized the stories may have been romanticized. Nevertheless, he was determined to make a name for himself, and Mos Eisley seemed like a good place to start. He began hyping himself up in his head. If he wanted to become a big name, he had to act the part.

Confidence quickly turned to panic as strong winds came through, his Sullustan eyes being especially susceptible to the dust and sand. Looking around, it seemed like every building and stall suddenly closed. The locals were obviously better prepared for this than he was. He frantically ran to the closest open building, Raider's Tomb. Chybo followed the stairs into a bar, coughing and rubbing his eyes along the way. By the time he finally recovered from the sandstorm, he realized just how busy the bar was. So much for a good first impression.

 

[Amea Virou]

Some time had passed since last Amea had come out of her hidey hole. She still went ship to ship on a regular basis, sometimes as a crew member and other times as unexpected cargo. The last few traces of confusion and unrest at finding about half of her memories gone had come and gone by now, but with it she figured, well, if it was that easy to forget it was probably nothing important in the first place. Of course, that was very far from the truth, but as far as Amea would care it was a lie that offered at least a small amount of peace amidst the frustration of forgetting. So, why not roll with it?

And so here she was, at the Raider's Tomb. A tomb raider, in an appropriately named cantina. Hell, many of the current visitors in this cantina could have passed as one as well. In the end it was just a matter of asking yourself whether or not the tomb was currently occupied by the living, read: a house, or if it was occupied by the dead, read: a grave. Amea was a specialist on the latter, protector of the former. The duality of her existence being no small source of amusement for her.

At the bar itself, Amea leaned against the counter with her Romi sans Coci. The weight of the choice had not escaped her, but the reasons behind the weight, well, was lost on her. It simply felt like a good drink. Even if drinking straight up rum was, arguably, not her flavor. At least the burn was good.

 

[Arryn Jhanson]

The Raider's Tomb...

Every Cantina came with a story, a tune to sing to the average drunk wanting to make an impression and give them a reason to continue paying for their choice of poison for as long as possible, it was a bartenders hidden ace so to speak; However, this particular Cantina gave Arryn a reason to second guess the name of the establishment, wondering what possible tomb there was out there in the sands of Tatooine worth raiding that the Tusken's hadn't already gotten to.

Walking down the stairwell that led underground into the establishments lively floor, Ajay pulled his hat from his head and slapped it against his leg ridding the sand from within, his greasy black hair still carrying visible specks of the desert world's temperate climate outside. Unfortunately, The "NOMAD" was being watched by some of his rival competitors, forcing the man to have to wait out his time before taking leave of the suffocating dust-ball...

Making his way through the crowded room, he approached one of the barstool's and pushed it further under the counter with a foot, choosing to stay on his feet and instead leaning forward against the bar in the off chance that someone had followed him. "Can I get a drink over here, brother?" Ajay called attention to the Barkeep, lifting a hand in added emphasis. Truth be told, he didn't much care for what he'd be drinking, anything was better than the horrid dry taste that Tatooine left in his mouth. It wasn't his first choice for a business venture, though these days it was difficult to find a reliable weapons merchant that wasn't going to sell you out to the nearest government presence...-Though that was another story.

 

[Eldin Daine]

The noise in the Raider went from cool din to a roar in minutes with the crowd piling in from the sandstorm. This was good and bad, good because it provides many distractions if anyone was on the look out for him, and bad because with so many people in such a small space was trouble. Especially in any cantina on Tatoonie. The ‘band’ began to play or at least that is what Eldin thought until he saw the source of it, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Nor should he be surprised by the fact a flower as sitting at a booth drink, but somehow it did.

A few people shuffled up to the bar, next to him, one being a man clearly not local cause he would not have opened a conversation that more often then not, would have resulted in a bolt in his head. He was lucky to be speaking to someone more even tempered. “Me and anyone that ever got of this dust bowl”, his answer came as the tip of a finger pushed his empty whiskey glass toward the bar keep.

The bar keep was a young lad, not sure he was even old enough to be service but not that that mattered here or anywhere really. “ ’nother whiskey kid”, the kid with the tea towel was earning his coin tonight.

“Ya aren’t local, so where ya from?”. Might at well shoot the breeze while wait for the storm to pass. The little GNK droid bumped into the leg of the man next to him, looking as rusty as his ship.

Couple of others sidled up to the bar, a big burly man you wound not want to meet in a dark alley, and girl. She was most definitely not local, her skin looked to soft for Tatoonie sun and her hair clipped with style, the rest of her dressed in fitting galactic wear.

Eldin turned on his seat, best to keep an eye on the patrons in a crowd like this. It was now that he noticed the being signing for water to the bar and by the caked sand on his clothing, the man had been traveling cross the plains. It was clear he wanted to keep to himself hiding in the shadow of his cowl.

Live and let live as they say. Pity others did not adhere to the saying, the sound of an argument from the booths broke over the conversations in the bar, followed by predictable gun fire and a thud as a body hit the floor, the room went silent for a brief moment. Eldin did not flinch he was trying to gain the attention of the pretty girl, with a flash of his smile.


Arryn Jhanson | Amea Virou | Nartaga | Chybo Fenn | CLEM | Alistair Abbott | Tadietti Tann | Jacen Nimdok |

 

[Tadietti Tann]

Tags: Chybo Fenn and Arryn Jhanson
NPCs: All None Named NPCs free to autohit or use in posts.

Talking about not being local and arms manufacturers...

Dust kicked into a swirl, curling her lips on cue. The sand reminding her of where she’d come from. A defel from inside signalled the all-clear and doors opened again to a pause of the wind. Two large male twi’leks walked in visibly armed to the teeth with custom weaponry. Then two female twi’leks followed them, seeking to stand idly by the door and chat to themselves, the quartet did not blend in very well seeing as they were armed to the teeth with extra to spare from FFE's private stocks. From the bar a particularly battle-scarred trandoshan raised his glass to the first twi’lek in, who gave him a nod in return, the trandoshan picking out a large table. Armsdealers and Bankers, a potent combination.

In walked Blue behind the first four generic door guard assassins. Veiled as always, her custom battledress armor was expensive, but given where she was didn’t glitter, it did however have a subtle beauty to it, subdued blue tones masterful finish and etching but all toned down given where she was visiting, by now also well covered in a layer of sand. Beside her were her closest aides, a zeltron speaker who seemed to be sputtering sand out of his throat and her most lethal personal aides. Sienn, Opel Jeru, Aeyih'dira and Kinsa. A red brute, a purple dancer, a green accountant and her green twin the... specialist.

There was no more hiding in shadows or pretending she wasn’t who she was to play possum. She had wealth, power, position and status. She’d fully taken Goros the Hutt mantel and security around her was high, she’d learn that much from her employer to overplay her security. After the initial party entered, gradually at least a half dozen more underlings more subtly found a seat somewhere in the bar separate from the group, where they could socialise and where they could keep eyes on blue. There was always one more twi’lek, most of them not brandishing obvious weapons, all assassins or worse.

Still they all looked and certainly smelled better than Fire For Effects usual crowd, gone were the riff-raff and in were the class, ex slaves most of them elevated to the highest lifestyles. The trandoshan was from the Pyke Syndicate, since that organization had been happily decapitated with the death of Kelon Amadis in a family fued, they wanted to talk terms. They were coming to her… that was a first.

At: Chybo Fenn and Arryn Jhanson

Coming to the crowded bar somewhere between Chybo Fenn and Arryn Jhanson she would nod to each, as the six of her main attache gathered around the bar.

“Later.” She said to an aide who let the trandoshan know, much to his chagrin. She wanted to make him sweat, and put him on the back foot in negotiations. First Blue wanted a drink, to socialise, she had a bank’s opening to celebrate. The Zeltron looked up toward the barkeep from the veiled woman, “five bottles of your best...” He looked back to Blue, under her veil her lips curled, “anything.” The red zeltron decided.

Then she mouthed an important line under the veil to the zeltron, who seemed somewhat surprised, but they were celebrating...

"Round of drinks for everyone." He looked to make sure she really wanted her name spoken to alert potential assassins further, but it was sans the title or any airs or graces given the crowd, "on Blue." a few instantly knew what the phrase 'on blue' meant from the casinos in hutt space, most didn't, till now that had been by design.. Chybo Fenn and Arryn Jhanson were the first asked what they were drinking, on the house.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Eldin Daine did not appear offended by his careless remarks, shrugging them off as obvious observations. Nimdok suppressed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was to get involved in a brawl.

As Eldin requested another drink, Nimdok caught the eye of the barkeep and turned toward him. "Alistair, isn't it?" he asked. While Alistair Abbott didn't seem to recognize him, Nimdok knew him at once. "Yes, I remember you quite well. You were part of the Odessen crew. I trust those parcel vines didn't leave you any worse for wear?"

Just then, the droid CLEM bumped into Nimdok's knee, its cracked screen beckoning him. The sight of such an eclectic selection of songs triggered a buried trait in the archaeologist - a deep and abiding love for music that knew not the boundaries of genre. Pursing his lips, the archaeologist quickly produced a coin and inserted it into the slot, choosing an old favorite.


"Ya aren't local, so where ya from?"

The question came just as the music began to blare from the droid's speakers. Nimdok straightened and turned in his chair, a lie slow to form in his head.

"Dantooine," he replied. "A gentleman farmer." Picking up his glass, he raised it to his lips as he quietly added, "Not anymore."

 

[CLEM]

Jacen Nimdok 's choice of music appealed greatly to Clem, who gonked in a genial way and shuffled off to derezz the rest of the cantina.

After listening to a few beeps and boops - the droidspeak lyrics were simply brilliant - Clem began singing along in Gonkian. Not loudly, though, just under his breath.

"Gonk gonk, gagagonkgagagonkgagonk-"

 

[Amea Virou]

CLEM // Eldin Daine // Jacen Nimdok // Alistair Abbott

It was a moment of revelation and marvel. Amea’s eyes would almost instinctively set on the tiny gonk droid as something almost akin to emotion seemed to come out of it. Her eyebrow lifted for a second and only kept ascending as the word ‘Dantooine’ came within earshot. Her attention set on the hotboy next to the fellow Dantooiner who flashed an almost perfect smile with almost sickeningly perfect timing.

Could Amea have bled from rolling her eyes, she would have. And yet, it was clear that it was some form of invitation.

“My family had land on Dantooine once.” Amea said and frowned at the fake memory. “And then the Primeval came through.”

She extended her hand towards the man in robes, not the man who carried a mirror in his pocket.

“Amea Virou,” She smiled. “Archaeologist, of sorts.”

And then, to not be too rude,

“Procurement specialist to others.” She glanced at Eldin and then Alistair. “Nice to meet you.”

 

[Arryn Jhanson]

Rarely in life did anything come without a price of some sort, Arryn Jhanson knew this all to well. And so as he turned around to gauge the one apparently willing to shout a round on the house, he found himself eyeing that of Tadietti Tann . He wasn't a local of Tatooine, though there'd been a number of jobs that had taken him through the sector, visiting the dustball several times more than he cared for; however he hadn't heard of this 'Blue' before now and so there really wasn't much to go on, whether for or against the offer.

"Sure, I'll take a gamble" he replied, turning to glance back toward the barkeep in answer of their question, "A hard Whiskey, over here" he announced, thumbing back to the group of Blue's over his shoulder, "They're buyin' apparently".

Of course, it wasn't in Arryn's nature to receive a favor and not offer some form of recompense. Turning to place his back to the bar now, facing this Blue character and her lot, he glanced the others over in quick assessment. It wasn't difficult to know who the leading lady of the house was, however the Zeltron had made the gesture and so Arryn looked to him and asked out of curiosity, "What's the occasion for such a generous offer?".

Ajay had something of a confident air about him, the look of an experienced rogue whom also knew not to trust others on a whim; the type that liked the look of trouble, and somehow managed to pull himself out of the fire when things got to hot. He was armed with the Blaster Pistol upon his right hip, holstered firmly in place, though there were no other weapons or signs of hostility about him, by appearances his mood seemed quite relaxed for the most part. Save for his skepticism regarding the newest entrance.

Chybo Fenn

 

[Nartaga]

Nartaga had stayed at the bar with his back turned to the other patrons, sipping his water through a straw he had procured somewhere. The disguised Tusken threaded the straw underneath the dust mask covering most of his face and into the open hole into the mask beneath that covered his true face. As more and more people moved in, the tribal thought that perhaps this was not the right place for someone like to be, given the recent shootout and no one batting an eye at the occurrence. The Tusken tried to drown out the sounds of the people around him, keeping to himself and not trying to draw any attention.

Suddenly there was a commotion on his sides as several people rushed at the bar, trying to take advantage of the free drinks provided by Tadietti Tann . The Tusken turned his head slightly to gauge how many people were scrambling for the free booze, and thought it best this was his time to leave the more busy bar, which seemed to attract most of the people, and move to a small corner or booth in the bar.

As the guide stood up to try to find a less crowded place to wait out the storm, a Snivvian tried to move the guide out of the way. Through sheer bad luck, the Tusken's glass of water was still partially up near his face, causing the life-giving drink to splash back onto the Tusken's twice covered face. The snaggletooth patron scoffed and looked at Nartaga, berating the hiding Tusken with some choice expletives. "'Ey! Get ou' me kriffin' way, you sod!" The male alien's words were almost drowned out by the noise of the music and other customers, but the Tusken heard enough and bowed his head without speaking, trying to get away from the bar as quickly as possible, the water still dripping from his now soaked dust-mask which was clinging to the leather and forming to the shape of the maw-like opening of his Tusken mask underneath

The Snivvian grabbed the robed guide's shoulder as he turned, forcing him to face the now suspicious humanoid. "Why you hidin' your face, git?" With no pause the Snivvian used his other hand to rip off the wet dust mask covering up the Tusken's identity. There was a moment of surprise as the humanoid's eyes bulged in disbelief. Nartaga tried in vain to put the outsider at ease, waving his hands and shaking his head, but the Snivvian yelled out as loud as he could to anyone who listen. "OI! We got us a Tusken in 'ere wit us mates! Look!" The Snivvian said before throwing down the Tusken's hood, revealing his head to be covered in a variation of the traditional head-ware synonymous with the desert nomads.

The music would stop for a moment, in a stereotypical record scratching moment, and the crowded bar would become a powder keg at the revelation that a Tusken Raider had managed to sneak into the bar named after a place of burial, presumably for his kind. The Snivvian grunted and shoved Nartaga away from the bar, out into the center of the cantina, his blaster now drawn. He looked to his fellow patrons of the cantina and tried to incite a mob riot, his voice still yelling above any of the other noise to make himself the center of attention. Tusken heads went for a shiny credit with the local council, as they had long been the enemies of the settlers of Tatooine, savages who were responsible for many deaths of moisture farmers and regular citizens alike. The Snivvian wanted as much publicity as possible to get all the credit and praise for outing the savage in their ranks. "Let's kill 'im here! Tear 'im lim' from lim' like they're kind do to us!"

The now revealed Tusken Raider looked around in a panic, his hands up, not making any sudden moves.

Eldin Daine Arryn Jhanson Amea Virou Jacen Nimdok Chybo Fenn Darth Quercus CLEM Alistair Abbott ​

 

[Eldin Daine]

His attempt to try and enter the conversation with the pretty girl abruptly stopped as he was shoved to the side as a big wookiee wanted one of them free drinks that was offered by some lady blue. There was not much room left in the cantina, standing room only for the most part and already it was getting hot in here for all the bodies. Suddenly the tension in the place rose to a head, an ugly Snivvian pushing someone around and yelling demanding someone reveal their face.

Eldin slide off his stool to let the Wookiee pass, not gonna argue with him, and he only got a grunt for his ‘courtesy’. The next thing he heard was ‘tear ‘im ‘lim from ‘lim’, now he noticed the commotion in the center of the bar. People moved away forming a circle around the poor bastard the Snivvian had targeted forcing the room even small. Tatoonie never changes, which is a good thing and a bad thing. Good thing, cause you always know what to expect. Bad thing, cause you could end up dead.

Freakin’ Tusken had big ones coming in here, that had to be admired. “Now listen ‘ere…”, Eldin stepped forward only to have his knee crunch into the little gonk droid, “Sorry..”, he looked down and stepped passed him, “Now listen ‘ere”, he started again, “put the damn gun down ya gonna kill someone”. That was the intention however one wayward bolt and a bystander would cope it.

The point of the gun turned on him as did the Snivvian, and was told to go do something to himself which was not printable. “Nothin’ would please me more, but leave the guy alone ya big ugly freakin’ frog .. pig .. thing”. At lightning speed fuelled by the force, Eldin drew his twin pistols barrels pointing passed the Tusken to the Snivvian who’s already ugly face turned even more ugly. The movement made his keffiyeh drop from his head revealing his face to the crowd.

“Ellie?”, a soft female voice cut the tension, “Is that you?”. It was the flower of desert he had deflowered.

“Feck”.

Tadietti Tann | Nartaga | Chybo Fenn | Alistair Abbott | CLEM | Jacen Nimdok | Amea Virou | Arryn Jhanson

 

[Alistair Abbott]

Location: Raider's Tomb, Mos Eisley - Tatooine
Status: Overworked & Underpaid
Weapons: A Tea Towel | E-5C

- - - - -​

He was certainly earning his paycheck.

He poured another whiskey for the man with the keffiyeh – dropping chilled granite rocks into the drink. It wouldn’t do much but make the amber liquid slightly cooler than tepid, and at least it wouldn’t dilute the drink like ice would. As he dropped the drink off, the other man perked up – recognizing the young boy. It was none other than Nimdok, his one-time employer from Odessen. The man clearly had a better memory than Alistair, quoting the vines that had grabbed the boy. “Uhhh yeah” Alistair stumbled through his words, a little uncomfortable. “Just left a weird rash is all”. Seeing someone who knew him made Alistair uneasy, but he and Nimdok had parted on good terms for the most part.

Several more people joined his end of the bar, settling in while Alistair served a cloth-covered man signing for water. He was grateful for the non-verbal communication, his ears already ringing with the loud music. He asked the boss many times to replace the accursed CLEM, but owners seemed to have a soft spot for it. But they didn’t have to endure its relentless attempts at ‘singing’ each and every day. If they did, he was sure the little droid would be on a Jawa scrap heap.

The sound of blaster fire cut through the din of the noisy room, leading to a momentary silence before the patrons continued on like nothing happened. He heard the other bartender, Bobby, let out a deep sigh. “Cover my end, would ya Alistair?” the Aqualesh man had an uncharacteristically soft voice for his large size. “I’ll go clean that up”.

Everything went downhill from there.

He was running around like a mad thing, this way and that, taking orders before he’d even poured the previous drink. He let out a barely audible groan as a large group entered, which turned into a massive internal scream as the leader offered free drinks for everyone. He could barely keep track of what happened next. Everyone pressed in around the bar and he went into over-drive. Two Corellian twisters for a pair of Bith, a whiskey for the bearded human, a quick smile for the pretty lady talking to him, a mind eraser for the Wookie and 5 bottles of Halmad Prime for the Red Zeltron.

There was a commotion in the centre of the establishment, raised voices and death threats. Alistair paused for a moment, trying to assess the situation, before letting out a string of curses as he spotted a blaster pistol pointed in a customer’s face. The earlier shooting was bad enough, if more shots were slung around then the crowded space could very well turn into a blood bath.

With most people distracted, he retrieved the key hanging from his neck and ducked under the bar to access a large safe. The contents inside were not the subtle kind, a massive blaster rifle – the E-5C lay on the padded interior. He hoisted the gun over his shoulder, barely able to carry the weight, and skirted around the bar.

The crowd seemed to part for him, either due to his authority as the bartender or the authority of the large weapon. He took a couple of seconds to take in the scene, the multple blaster pistols and the stern looks of the aggressors, before speaking up:

“This bar is under protection of the Hutts” he said, shouting to make himself heard. He didn’t unsling the E-5C (he probably couldn’t use the blasted thing anyway) but rather just let it sit on his shoulder as a warning. “Any here that cause trouble are going to answer to them, so kindly put away your pieces and come grab a drink by the bar”.

Eldin Daine | Darth Quercus | CLEM | Jacen Nimdok | Nartaga | Chybo Fenn | Amea Virou | Arryn Jhanson | Tadietti Tann ​

 

[Chybo Fenn]

After years of being a SoroSuub Corporation employee, Chybo wasn't used to getting something without working for it. The offer of free drinks was a pleasant surprise, but he had a feeling this wouldn't become the new norm. He nodded graciously at the zeltron and the veiled woman. The bartender seemed to be making all sorts of drinks for the crowd. Chybo considered his order, but before he could say anything, he turned around to face the sudden action. He watched with a grin as the Snivvian and the man exchanged threats and aimed their blasters.

Maybe the stories of Tatooine were right after all, he thought to himself.

It didn't take long before he turned back around to face the bartender, who now had a blaster rifle slung across his shoulder. He watched with anticipation as the bartender began shouting. The crowd started to part for the bartender, causing Chybo to get knocked around until his back touched the wall. The only thing he could see now was the back of several people's heads. In the hopes getting a view of both the bartender and the armed bar patrons, Chybo moved to a booth and stood on its table. This was the most exciting thing he had witnessed in a while, and he wasn't going to let it be ruined by a bad angle.