Over a Neon Sign

[Rashae 1a]

Somewhere in the Lower levels of Coruscant


Coruscant. Probably one of the most confusing cities if you dont live there. The same as Nar Shadda but cleaner and prettier in a lot of regards. Though they say the lover levels of Coruscant were just as bad. Danuae would have to take their word for it but for now she as lost as a sentient could be. She lookd at the holoprojection in her palm of the map of the city that was utterly useless to this little Healer. It might as well been in old arkanian for all the use it was to her. Cant it do something like say you are here and you want to go there? This wasnt the first time that she had gotten lost nor will it be the last.

Those white robes shrugged as the hand held holo projector disappeared in her robes. She was getting a tad hungry as she spotted a likely place. Where she was at exactly the Healer couldnt tell you. She felt the place was likely to have food and water of some kind. She stuck out like a sore thumb as she was in antiquated traditional Jedi attire in stark white. This was a stark contrast to the darkened interior and the vibrant attire of the patrons and attendants. The dancers were all but naked but the kindly force user paid that no mind.

A waitress came up to ask her if she like a drink. “Water, Please.” Came the soft pleasant voice of Danuae.

The waitress looked confused at the request. “Miss, what are the meal selections?” She asked. The waitress showed her where to find those. “OH!! thank you.”

It wasn't that she was unused to technology but so much had changed in eighteen years. The out of date Jedi was 35 as she looked maybe 20 or even younger. The youthful glow and vigor along with the innocent smile being both calming to some and a magnet to others. She made her selection which was something simple. A soup and salad choice. She had to dig to get the credit chip. They said she would need. Not having much idea of what was on it as she had little use for credits. It would contain an ample amount of credits on it.

Danuae took out a journal of hand drawn foliage with notations. She wanted to perfect these drawings and add some notes. The drawings were very good. Anyone sensitive to the force could detect her easily enough. If it wasn't her odd attire, her essence in the force would be telling. Those near her would find the area peaceful and calming. She thanked the waitress kindly for bringing her water and meal.

[member="Xaedrin Vondiranach"]

 

[Xaedrin Vondiranach]

​​Sitting at a corner booth in the rundown bar, Xaedrin couldn't help but notice the young woman in stark white robes. In obvious contrast to the other denizens of the shady haunt, the newcomer was more than a little out of place. His head tilted to the side slightly as he considered the oddity that she represented, wheels turning as he sought an angle that would allow him to use her arrival to his advantage. Old habits die hard. The seedy little cantina was poorly lit, many of the illumination orbs having died with nary a thought of replacement. The floors were grimy, a display all too picturesque of the clientele attracted by this particular establishment. Xaedrin shifted in his seat slightly; the worn cushion provided little by way of comfort, while doing its part to tell the story of the dilapidated dive though rends in the fabric that covered the antiquated seat. If the ambiance was shady, the patrons were more so. Having lived a number of years in the area - and being connected to all types of scum and villainy - Xaedrin knew enough to recognize members from at least six separate criminal enterprises around the room. One table in particular, several over from where the newcomer was seated, had taken particular interest in the girl's arrival.

The table was occupied by two trandoshans and a human. The dress code at the table seemed to be less in line with ​going-to-the-dirty-club-to-have-a-drink​ and more akin to bounty hunter or hired gun. Xaedrin knew their type, but more importantly he knew one of the trandoshans who occupied the table. Kax - scum even by Coruscanti-sublevel standard, who dealt in flesh. A slaver​. Xaedrin wasn't a bleeding heart, nor had he ever been. But he hated Kax and his kind.

Xaedrin reached out absently for the drink that rested on the table in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth between Kax and the white-robed woman. The weight of the glass tumbler in his hand told him that the glass was empty. When had he finished that?​ With a sigh, he stood and walked over to the woman's table, nonchalantly sitting adjacent to her and placing his back to the table of slavers. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the woman in front of him dubiously.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this,"​ he said, flashing a slight smile. ​"But I think you've walked into a world of trouble this evening."


[member="Danuae Verdegrande"]