far out, man
Tracyn was a patient man when it came to this. He had waited so long, put it off in some cases. He lost sleep because of it. It had aged him terribly, from the loss of his hair to the darkening of his soul. He glanced around the bar, and then waved a hand, gesturing people out. The people in this particularly seedy part of Coruscant knew far better than to disturb him. It had been here that he stumbled out of and met Asha, and it would be here, that he reconciled with his son. His son. Cassus. The word caused a visible flinch of pain across his body as he leaned on the table. There was a glass of water for him, and a glass of water for Cassus, should he arrive.
Normally, Tracyn would have peeled any Sith apart and smashed their head through the table, but this was one of the few times that Tracyn was remotely calm and measured about his approach. His head perked up, and he stared at him for a while, passively. He gestured to the seat, and spoke without looking at him.
"Your mother would kill you if you stepped out of the house dressed like that, you know."
@[member="Cassus"]
Normally, Tracyn would have peeled any Sith apart and smashed their head through the table, but this was one of the few times that Tracyn was remotely calm and measured about his approach. His head perked up, and he stared at him for a while, passively. He gestured to the seat, and spoke without looking at him.
"Your mother would kill you if you stepped out of the house dressed like that, you know."
@[member="Cassus"]