Night Crawler

[Broorn Sabor]

The disgruntled Chiss was seated at the bar, unfiltered cigarette clenched in his mouth. Stale cigarette smoke lingered in the air as the former Chiss bounty hunter ordered up another bottle of whiskey. The bartender quickly retrieved a glass and handed it to the ex-bounty hunter. Broorn nodded with a grin, slamming several credits down on the bar. Slowly, he plucked the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a thick billow of grey smoke before quickly extinguishing the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

He slowly scooped up the glass, taking a sip of the low-quality whiskey, gulping it down with a chuckle. "So, how are you, man?", Broorn inquired to the bartender, who simply shrugged before quickly rushing over to another patron at the bar. Broorn slowly glanced over at his arm, glass still in hand. His gaze fell upon his right arm, his shirt sleeve rolled up revealing a large array of simple, cheap, low-quality tattoos spread out across his arm. They included names, freighters, and knives.

Shaking his head once again, he quickly gulped down the remaining whiskey, slamming the glass on the bar.

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

 

[Doyle]

That other patron at the bar was Stokely McFadden. She was an engineer/Captain of her own ship, Virgil, aptly named after her ex husband. Well they weren't divorced yet, only separated, yet in her mind it was already over. People grew apart in their line of work of smuggling and supply running.

Stokes had just given the bartender a hard stare, snapped her fingers and then pointed to her empty glass. The bartender rushed right over after tending to [member="Broorn Sabor"] and refilled her glass. He knew of her stoic and no-nonsense attitude. She was used to giving orders, but she could take them as well when the need called for it. Now however was not one of those times.

When her glass was filled she looked over to the Chiss as he just stared at his bad tattoos. Was he trying to appear macho? In these types of places that question was usually answered with a yes. She took a swig of her whiskey, letting it burn down her throat to remind her that she was still alive.

The time waiting in between jobs was always the hardest to bare.

 

[Broorn Sabor]

The Chiss plucked yet another unfiltered cigarette from a white pack of cigarettes labeled 'Sarlacc Unfiltered'. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he quickly struck a match and ignited the tobacco inside the cheap, budget-brand cigarette. He quickly rolled the pack of cigarettes back into the left sleeve of his shirt, slowly rising from his chair. He quickly chucked a credit over to the bartender, nodding as he took another puff from the cigarette.

Slowly, he glanced over to [member="Stokely McFadden"], chuckling loudly which revealed his decaying teeth. He had noticed the woman and honestly, he didn't give a damn. Glancing over to the door, he sighed and spun around and headed over to the woman. Aw, what the hell? He thought to himself, making his way over to the woman.

Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, he slowly took a seat beside the woman. Clearing his throat, he took another puff from the cigarette before finally muttering a single sentence:

"How are ya'?"

 

[Doyle]

Oh boy. Here he comes. Since when was a glance an invite? Oh yeah, to a drunken man it was. Yet how drunk [member="Broorn Sabor"] was remained to be seen. Right now he was imitating a chimney.

"Alive. Same as you. Though I've clearly seen better days."

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

He chuckled loudly as he purposely exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke in her direction. "Better days than me?", He chuckled loudly.

"Well, why don't you kiss my ass?".

The Chiss burst into laughter, slowly climbing out of his seat. He nodded to the woman before spinning around and heading back over to the Sabacc table in the corner, where a huge Trandoshan sat, holding a large deck of cards and fiddling with an empty pack of cigarettes.

 

[Doyle]

Stokes just gave [member="Broorn Sabor"] a hard stare that clearly showed that she wasn't amused. As he turned and walked away soon after his remark, she kicked his stool hard towards the back of his legs, kicking it low enough to have the stool slide upright on it's legs. Depending on how drunk he was, it could knock him over.

"I'd rather kick it than kiss it."

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

The drunken Chiss was a few steps away from the door before the bar stool came colliding against his legs. The drunk man collapsed to the floor, his head cracking off the wood floor with a sickening thud. Muttering profanity under his breath, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, grabbing the back of his skull. "What the hell is wrong with you!?", he snarled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did I karkin' offend you!?".

The Chiss quickly took a step back from the woman, staring at her in a mixture of disbelief, anger, and to be honest, he was slightly intimidated by the woman. He quickly staggered over to the woman, spitting at her feet before quickly slamming his fist down upon the bar in anger. "Kick my ass? How about a wager?", The drunken man slurred.

 

[Doyle]

Offend? No. Disgust was more like it. The air still smelled of the putrid smoke from his cig that he so kindly blew in her face. Stokes finished her whiskey and slammed her glass down on the bar. She rolled up her sleeves almost casually as she stared him down, her eyes never leaving his.

"A wager? Sure. I already knocked you down without even touching you. Let's see what happens when I do touch you. An arm wrestle, 100 credits. Maybe just maybe, you can get your dignity back."

[member="Broorn Sabor"]

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

He stood emotionless for a moment as he listened to the woman speak. Suddenly, a large grin spread across his face. "200 credits and I'll buy you a drink if I lose.", he barked, quickly taking a seat at a nearby table. Quickly, he rolled up his sleeve and cleared his throat, placing his arm on the table. Everybody in the establishment had their eyes set on the two.

Broorn was clearly nervous but his arrogant grin remained as he waited for the woman to take a seat. This was not the first time Broorn had done this. However, his gambling, bounty hunting, bar brawling days were over. He was not the man he once was and his abilities were hindered even further due to being clearly intoxicated. Despite this, he accepted the woman's challenge and remained seated at the nearby table.

 

[Doyle]

Stokes smirked and followed him to the table, still giving [member="Broorn Sabor"] that hard stare of hers. Did she even blink? Maybe. "200 credits and if you lose, you drink some whiskey with one of your cigs swimming in it."

She was not a meek woman. Her bark was just as bad as her bite. She was used to working hard and pulling her own weight on her ship, so she was quite confident in this little contest. Stokes rested her left elbow on the table and help up her hand. Her other arm was placed behind her back. That's right. She's left handed.

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

"200? How about 300? I'll drink the whiskey with the smokes and I'll do anythin' else you want. Hell, how about 350!?", the man asked, grinning. He gripped the woman's hand, turning his hand slightly as he prepared to start. He chuckled, slowly glancing up at the woman. "You sure you wanna do this?", Broorn asked. The Chiss was clearly becoming overconfident as he increased his grip on the woman's hand, waiting for her to begin.

(Sorry for the short post!)

 

[Doyle]

"200 is more than enough. Besides, how do I even know that you have that amount to begin with?" She met his grip with her own, a grip that was as hard as her stare. "Other hand behind your back. I won't tolerate cheating. Unless that's the only way that you can defeat a mere human female."

[member="Broorn Sabor"]

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

He chuckled, placing his other hand behind his back. "You wanna start this damn thing?", He asked, his grin remaining. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed throughout the cantina. "BROORN, HAVE YOU PAID YOUR TAB!?", the bartender shouted across the table. "YES, SIR! THE CHECK IS IN THE MAIL!", Broorn quickly shouted, turning his attention back to the woman. "You wanna start now?"

 

[Doyle]

Stokes smirked and started pressing against his hand to force it down. She had her own technique for thus, yet it was always best to start low. Besides, [member="Broorn Sabor"] was slightly drunk, and so she wanted to see just how much. "Go!"

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

Broorn's grin quickly faded as his arm instantly hit the table. He slammed his fist down on the table, barking angrily. "WHAT THE HELL!?", the drunken man shouted. He was clearly not prepared and was too drunk to even get prepared as he just stared at the woman and began shouting and insulting her. "This is karking...Aw, what the hell?! I wasn't ready, man!", he shouted.

 

[Doyle]

"Ha! You weren't ready yet, huh? Spoken like a true sore loser." Stokes smirked and leaned back in her chair. "Best of three then? Care to be humiliated even further?" She grinned and leaned forward again, her free arm once again returning behind her back.

[member="Broorn Sabor"]

 

[Broorn Sabor]

[member="Stokely McFadden"]

Placed his hand upon the table once again. "Y-yeah. Best of three.", he said, gripping onto the woman's hand. The drunken man was obviously shaking as he increased his grip on the woman's hand. glancing around nervously and muttering profanity to himself. He really, really needed a cigarette. Slowly, he glanced up at Stokely, chuckling loudly as he motioned for her to count down.

 

[Doyle]

[member="Broorn Sabor"] tightened his grip, showing a bit more strength to him, but it was still enough for her to handle. Stokes tightened her grip and kept her expression blank while she counted. "Three...two...one..." Quickly she pushed against his hand, using the same tactic as before. Chances were that it wouldn't work, but she kept staring him down. Intimidation was a wonderful tool.