Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Raising the Bar

Mark glanced around the bar, practically empty. It was times like this that his missed being in the kitchens, at least then he could keep his hands moving and pass it off as recipe development or something. Plus, eating supplies from the kitchen was a lot healthier for his organs than drinking the profits in alcohol to pass the time.

He wiped down the bar front, again looking for an excuse to keep busy. It probably didn’t help that aside from work, and networking (which he also did in a bar setting, more often than not) he didn’t really have much else outside of this place to occupy his time.

Apart from maybe his ship, but he tended to break more things than he made better on that, perhaps better left to the professionals.

He sighed and looked longingly at the door, praying for a customer. Preferably, a chatty one.
 
[member="Mark Cross"]

"What do yah mean Xin would complain about beer here?"

Brak gave her a toothy-barabel smile and pushed open the door to some bar on Coruscant.

"I figured he'd complain or crack a joke."

Brak nodded.

"Or get himself in trouble with Wesseq. Yup." Kinsey smiled as she and Brak shared a short laugh, meandering over to the bar. Brak put his large clawed-hands on the bartop, getting a few stares from the patrons already there. Kinsey slid up into a stool and nodded at [member="Mark Cross"].

"Got any recommendations?"
 
[member="Kinsey Starchaser"]

“That really depends on what you’re into...nice claws by the way...” Mark nodded in Brak’s direction, slinging the towel he’d been using to wipe down the bar.

“From personal experience we’ve got a great whiskey selection, and believe it or not the beer’s really good here. Not many places you can say that about on Coruscant” he remarked. Again, that was coming from personal experience.

“I can also whip up a bunch of exotic cocktails, but adventurer types normally aren’t into those”
 
[member="Mark Cross"]

Brak pointed to one of the whiskeys. "I sharpen them every night," he deadpanned to the barkeep. Kinsey gave him a short elbow against his massive thick-skinned arm. She winced slightly and the lizard looked down, giving her a bemused expression.

She cleared her throat.

Kinsey had a history of drinking too much. And things going out of control quickly. Hadn't touched a drink since she fled from the Sith. And she aimed to keep it that way.

"I'll have a ginger soda. Thanks."
 
"Ginger soda and a whiskey, coming right up!"

Mark flew around the bar area, grabbing glasses and bottles, making it happen. Two of the easier orders he'd get for the day. There was nothing more frustrating than being asked to mix up a cocktail with a growing queue at the bar.

"So what's new out there?" he asked, assuming these two were intrepid travellers. "Any gossip?"
 

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