Member
[member="Rekha Kaarde"]
Mark grunted as he hauled his duffel bag of his (rather modest) collection of belongings. His back shrieked in complaint at the heavy lifting it was being asked to complete after one hell of a journey to reach this point.
Living from job to job, with a pile of credits that was FAR short of the amount needed to achieve his goal, of buying his own freighter, he decided that he needed to put himself in a major trading hub. He'd decided on Coruscant, which meant hitching rides by whatever means possible, whether it be work, favours (not of a sexual nature, he was a little on the poor side, not desperate), cooking meals, you name it. Often it'd buy him an uncomfortable bunk, or corner of a cargo hold, or somewhere that left him with muscle aches and severe sleep deprivation.
When he was tired, he felt the cold more than normal, stopping to button up his leather jacket as he set off in sight of somewhere he could get a drink and put his head down in a proper bed for the night. Normally, he'd be on the hunt for work from minute one, but tonight...tonight he just needed a break.
"The Lucky Lady..." the sign seemed about as inviting as a sign could possibly be. In he went, making a bee-line for the bar, staring through tired eyes in the general direction of the bartender nearby.
"Hey...what's the third best whiskey you've got?" He asked. Gotta love a shoestring budget...
Mark grunted as he hauled his duffel bag of his (rather modest) collection of belongings. His back shrieked in complaint at the heavy lifting it was being asked to complete after one hell of a journey to reach this point.
Living from job to job, with a pile of credits that was FAR short of the amount needed to achieve his goal, of buying his own freighter, he decided that he needed to put himself in a major trading hub. He'd decided on Coruscant, which meant hitching rides by whatever means possible, whether it be work, favours (not of a sexual nature, he was a little on the poor side, not desperate), cooking meals, you name it. Often it'd buy him an uncomfortable bunk, or corner of a cargo hold, or somewhere that left him with muscle aches and severe sleep deprivation.
When he was tired, he felt the cold more than normal, stopping to button up his leather jacket as he set off in sight of somewhere he could get a drink and put his head down in a proper bed for the night. Normally, he'd be on the hunt for work from minute one, but tonight...tonight he just needed a break.
"The Lucky Lady..." the sign seemed about as inviting as a sign could possibly be. In he went, making a bee-line for the bar, staring through tired eyes in the general direction of the bartender nearby.
"Hey...what's the third best whiskey you've got?" He asked. Gotta love a shoestring budget...