Southern Systems Charm

[Maggie-Rae Americus]

Location: Mos Eisley Cantina​

Regular girls in the galaxy went to spas or beaches or even shopping together for bonding, gossip and good times. They danced in discotheques and visited wine bars, maybe stopping by a cafe for a pumpkin spice latte after-hours.

But Mandalorian girls?

They went straight to the cantina with the most tihaar.

Maggie-Rae felt her most feminine in dangerous and violent places. It was just how she was raised. And she hadn’t really gotten to know any of her newly adopted Americus relatives who’d claimed her as one of their own. Plus Mags needed to explore the Southern Systems. So she invited her cousin [member="Daisy Americus"] on a Room Tours trip to The Best Mandalorian Bars on Tatooine! At least that’s what the flimsiplast flyer said as the red haired Mando read it on the shuttle to Mos Eisley.

But there was one stop. And that was the “wretched hive of scum and villainy” that was the Mos Eisley cantina.

“This isn’t specifically Mandalorian,” complained the young Americus to the tour operator who promptly ignored her. Her credits were already in his bank account. Why should he cater to these grievances? But she wondered if he thought her a lesser Mandalorian because she wasn’t tooling around on Mandalore, and was skulking about the Southern Systems instead. Were the Americus’s considered the most redneck clan of galaxy? Maggie-Rae tried not to think about it too hard, which was easy as she tended to not think at all before she did things.

“Come on, Daisy. We're gonna drink so much tihaar that we’ll be grinnin’ like womp rats eatin’ taters.” Did taters grow on Tatooine? Probably not, but the saying stood.

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Mos Eisley Cantina [Getting off Shuttle...]
Tag: [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"]

---

Daisy sat back in her seat on the shuttle, cool as a clam, while watching Maggie-Bae harass their tour guide. If anyone was going to give the squat-faced little miser a piece of their mind it would be the crimson haired beauty beside her. She was dressed for the occasion in a pair of dark leathers and a tattered and distressed white t-shirt that hid a red camisole. She flicked a length of sun-bleached hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. “Ah think he’s a shyster.”

Regardless, she kicked back and enjoyed the ride. She didn’t mind where her adopted cuz took her so long as they got to have a little fun. She’d been cooped up on Haseria way too long, following all the rules, and being a good little MP mascot. It was time to get back to her roots. Drinking, dancing, gambling, maybe a little reckless shooting…Yeah. That sounded just about perfect.

The sweet n’ southern spacey girl grinned at her companion when her back home accent rang in her ears and the metaphor made her laugh aloud. “Ah haven’t had any real tihaar in a hot minute. Ne'tra gal is all we could get imported on Haseria till we get a full-time brewmaster.”

Daisy, for all of her soft features, and feminine curves—could drink like a fish. Most of the patrons that passed through the Sierra Blanca knew by now not to challenge her to a drinking contest. She could put any of them under the table and still shoot relatively straight afterwards. Daisy had never been to Mos Eisley but she’d seen her fair share of shady bars. Nar Shaddaa was pretty foul and she’d visited that location with [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and a few other Confederate friends.

“Do you think Paw will bail us out if we get arrested?”

The question was half joking and half serious. The shuttle landed and the golden-haired Americus released a little sound of excitement. Somewhere between a squeal and a whoop. “Ah’m so ready. Lead the way Maggie-Bae!”

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Port Authority Administrator's Office
Mos Eisley Spaceport

"Your Excellency, I do--"

"Minister," the Sith Lord's deep voice cut in for the second correction now. There would not be a third.

The Weequay Administrator of Tatooine's Port Authority bobbed his head several times as he raised both hands. "Yes, of course. My apologies, Minister. As I was saying, I just don't see how you can expect to control these criminal elements without increased funding. Perhaps even a more robust presence from the Confederacy's Defense Force?"

Aiden was silent and still. His face was an expressionless mask, and his silver-green eyes tore straight through the skin of the Weequay with an intensity that seemed like it would set the Weequay on fire. Indeed that was possible.

The Weequay shifted uncomfortably at the silence before hazarding further speech. "Minister? Is...is everything alright?"

"No," the intensity with which the word was spoken certainly did not match the otherwise soft tone. "Things are quite unsatisfactory, in fact. You see, Administrator..." Aiden paused only long enough to prop one foot on the Weequay's desk and then drape the other over top. The folds of the Sith Lord's midnight blue overcoat fell slightly to reveal an arcane tattoo that covered Aiden's chest. The mark of an ancient Sith Order shifted its shape based on the Sith Lord's emotional state. "I was recently here prior to assuming my current post. I'm sure you recall...the Hutts somehow had managed to gain not just a foothold on this world but damn near seized total control. A campaign of terror, mostly. Yet when travel restrictions and bans were ordered, they just seemed to keep slipping through your fingers."

Raising a hand to indicate this was most certainly not the Administrator's time to speak, Aiden continued. "So I did some checking recently. We most certainly did send aid in more than just the form of the Knights Obsidian and military assets. We also funded quite a bit in security improvements and upgrades. Care to take a stab..." A sarcastic shrug of Aiden's shoulders accompanied the statement. "...at what my team found during this surprise inspection?"

Silence lingered between the two before the Administrator was sure he was allowed to speak. "Minister if you could just let me ex---"

Aiden's facial expression flattened completely as he raised a single finger of his right hand. Mid-sentence, the Weequay's air supply was strangled. "Oh I'm sorry. Were you just about to ask for the opportunity to explain the flagrant discrepancies in your reported financial expenditures and the acquisition records of your own department? I mean honestly if you wanted to steal from the Confederacy, you could have at least done so with a little more finesse." Lowering his finger, Aiden released his hold on the Weequay's air supply.

Lowering his feet back to the floor, the Minister of War stood to his full height in one fluid motion. "You should be happy that I happened upon this before Minister [member="Alessandra Creed"] inevitably discovered what you were doing. She's for sure a lot less...well... I just like to think I'm more stable than her. So!" Aiden clapped his hands together for emphasis before reaching into his pocket. "As a favor for your months of service, I'm going to extend you a courtesy." Withdrawing a relatively simple knife, Aiden placed it on the Administrator's desk. "I am going to let you choose your fate. You can either..." Aiden pointed towards the door to the office with his left hand. "Walk out that door and be taken into custody for transport back to Geonosis to answer for your crimes. Or...you can go out on your own terms," Aiden lowered his left hand and lightly tapped the knife with his right for emphasis.

Turning, Aiden began to retreat towards the office's exit. The choice was false. The Confederacy was not the Empire. The Administrator likely was not going to be drawn and quartered for skimming off the top. Prison, after all, was probably better than death...particularly if the sentence wasn't life. However, that wasn't what made the choice false. The moment Aiden stepped into the hallway and the door sealed behind him, the Sith Lord allowed his presence to expand and engulf the Weequay's mind. The effort to manipulate the Administrator was minimal. Images and an ethereal voice commanded the obedience of the Weequay's subconscious. In a moment a blood curdling scream erupted from inside the office.

Smiling thinly, Aiden initiated a local pace towards the nearest cantina. They always pick the knife in the end.

Choice was false.

 

[Maggie-Rae Americus]

“Paw’s gonna give us a whippin’ if we go to jail,” Maggie-Rae said with the kind of smile that indicated she might enjoy a bit of that corporal punishment. She couldn’t even fathom a night where the two of them wouldn’t land on their feet like savvy alley cats, but if they ended up in the clink it wouldn’t be the first time. At least for Mags.

But when Daisy whooped, so did the redhead and they entered the cantina in a rainfall of caterwauls and hand claps. She surveyed this famous landmark and found it to be very bereft of Mandalorians. And dammit, Maggie-Rae had really wanted to impress her cousin. She was going to have to improvise. Her insecurity manifested itself in a brashness that often got her in trouble and tonight was no exception.

Saddling up to the bar as though it was an old friend, the Mandalorian thumped her fist obnoxiously on the long stone slap. “Four shots of tihaar. Make them strong and doubles.” Gulping one swiftly down, the redhead noticed the karaoke machine and strode over, giving Daisy a wink.

“Let’s sing a song, cousin. It’s far too quiet in here.”

She deposited a credit chit, picked a Mandalorian fight song and scampered back to her blonde relative, waiting for the familiar tune to blare through the jukebox.

[member="Aiden"] [member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Mos Eisley Cantina [Getting off Shuttle...]
Tag: [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"] | [member="Aiden"]

---

Daisy laughed outright when Maggie-Rae stated that her father would give them a what for if they got sent to the slammer. Yea, probably. Regardless of any stakes the blonde bombshell planned to have a mess ton of fun, legal, or otherwise. She knew she could count on her cousin for that. There was nothing that scared Mags. At least, nothing that Daisy could come up with. If she was being completely honest she was always a little star-struck with the slightly shorter woman. Anything she touched virtually turned to gold. Or credits, depending on the scenario.

The first thing Daisy Jane noticed about the Mos Eisley bar was the smell.

Lord.

It was like the inside of the locker room at the Mandalorian Protectors unit on Haseria. Humid and packed with bodies. The scent of stale body sweat and week-old booze rang strongly, almost with the scent of death sticks, and dry air. Attractive.

It didn’t seem to bother Maggie though, so Daisy followed along, and rather impishly stole two shots of the tihaar that had been ordered. “Start us a tab, ya hear?”, she told the bartender with a rather sassy wink. The far from human male grunted in response and she grinned girlishly. Daisy couldn’t wait to try the clear liquor again and feel that familiar burn in her throat. She downed one of the double shots with relative ease, but whistled afterward, setting the glass back on the sticky bartop. “That is—“

“Karking good.”

The other shot disappeared pretty quickly too and Daisy found herself being pulled over to the jukebox. Blue-green eyes lit up when she heard a familiar song. Laughing, she grabbed her cousin’s arm, and spun her round once joyfully. “Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal! Verbor'ad ures alit!” [A pint of ale, a pint of blood - Buys men without a name.]

They needed more drink for this. Definitely. Signaling one of the workers walking around with a tray she called for an entire bottle of tihaar and a couple of shot glasses. They weren’t complete heathens. At least not yet. If they’d been sitting in the backyard on Haseria they’d probably have just passed the bottle back and forth. If they got knackered enough…

Things were about to get a lot more interesting in this sleepy little cantina really quick.

She turned her eyes toward the front door, instinctively, when someone else entered. It was getting later in the evening now so more people would probably be showing up. This patron was big. Bright eyes, green eyes, very similar to what Scherezade had. Daisy blinked. There were only a few people she knew that had eyes exactly like that. [member="Caid Centurion"], the uncle cousin, was one of them. Maybe he [[member="Aiden"]] was a relative?

A hunky relative. Or, maybe she was just seeing things.

“Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se. Kote lo'shebs'ul narit!” [We never care who wins the war - So you can keep your fame.]

Daisy loved this song. It reminded her of home.

 

[Formorta]

The Masked Assassin Location: Mos Eisley (walking to Cantina
Peps [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"]

The cloaked woman slowly trudged through the dusty streets of the simple town, getting a few head nods from people she passed by. Some old acquaintances other more of less just knowing who she was which despite her style of remaining out of public was hard to do on ones home world. Not that is mattered, Tatooine despite the new CIS rule was still just Tatooine, nothing changed much here, regardless of who owned them.

The only real difference the Confederates made was the new vacant Hutt palaces and lack of crime, in turn making her assassination job list dry up fast. With no immediate contracts to seek out Formorta had decided to visit the local bar and take a day off, maybe catch up with a few people if they were still around. Her short trip coming to an end as the doors to the small establishment opened up.

Once again she got the same looks as from outside, accompanied a with few wave from old comrades or contractors, though that was not what caught her attention. Taking one step inside her ears were bombarded by some very loud Mando woman over near the jukebox, with another still at the bar. "... that no new". Mando's did not tend to hang around here much, most either being mercs or body guards, not- tourist.

Walking to the bar she gave the rd head a small once over before sitting down, becoming over the bar keeper, "who the karaoki singer? a drunk member of CIS on leave"?

 

[Lirka Ka]

This was far from Lirka’s first visit for Tatooine, she had been going to the planet for decades now on and off: though after ditching that brutal life of a Mercenary for life in the army it had been some time since she had stepped into that obnoxious sand: she always wondered how much bone made up there, was interesting just how rough Tatooine sand actually was.

Mos Eisley was a fine enough escape from Tusken hunting parties and Krayt Dragons killing whatever they so pleased. The smell didn’t matter much to her, it was a fine enough reminder of her days going across Nar Shadda: for better or worse.

But she was here to drink, and drink she had: the large form of the armor woman had taken a spot at the bar and made her own little tower of empty glasses easy enough, thankfully enough her dislike for Mandalorians wouldn’t be coming out now that the warm booze flowing through her body to make her nice and friendly.

And friendly she was, going that ever common rattling off her many stories to whoever would listen.

[member="Formorta"] [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"] @Aiden

 

[Cameron Centurion]

There was no use in attempting to be discrete...pretty much anywhere that the Sith Lord went. However, upon entering the cantina, it was easy to discern that there were certainly others commanding far more attention than himself. The loud sounds of Mandalorians coming from the opposite end of the bar drew little more than a casual, passing glance from the Minister as he made his way towards a corner booth with perfect views of any avenues of approach.

The arcane tattoo on his chest shifted to that of a simple symbol of an Order long since forgotten as Aiden traversed through he dimly lit cantina. It seemed several of the patrons, singing Mandalorians included, were already well on their way to consuming massive quantities of alcohol. However, the Sith Lord's visit was more about a respite from the monotony and grind of his daily schedule than a would-be bender. In fact, Aiden did not exactly...drink terribly much. It was a wasted effort given how much it took for him to feel any effects. Even then, it was a relatively simple affair to mute said effects with the Force.

As he reached his booth, the large Sith removed his overcoat and tucked it into the corner of his seat. The reality of his exposed chest meant very little, especially on a planet such as Tatooine. There were precisely zero identifying marks that indicated his service within the Confederacy, and he was not exactly an overtly public figure. In fact, he reasoned that the vast majority of his most senior subordinates had yet to even meet him in person. This arrangement worked just fine for Aiden.

From a passing server, the Minister ordered a simple glass of whiskey. In moments, his silver-green gaze returned to sweeping the entirety of the location as his brain worked through the typical procedure of identifying strengths and weaknesses of those present. His own dark presence within the Force quickly swelled to encompass the entirety of the cantina. It was as ideal a place as any for him to keep his mental manipulation skills sharp, casually prying into weak and strong mind alike with varying levels of the requisite effort.

[member="Maggie-Rae Americus"] | [member="Daisy Americus"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]

 

[Don Cagliostro]

With heavy steps from his boots. Roy made his way to the cantina. Before walking in however, he made sure to wipe his boots off of any sand or dust. I didn't want to be the kind of guy to dirty up someone's establishment. Whether it be his, a friend's or a stranger's. Even if it didn't really matter in the end.

Stepping into the "prestigious" Mos Eisley cantina, the combination of sights and sounds took him back to Nar Shadda, there every street corner felt like it could live up to the hype this place got when it came to vice. So in a weird it kinda reminded him of home. At least a home that wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Gathering his thoughts once again he was recalling why he was here again. Which was that today was some kind of a Americus get together. Leave it to his family to choose more backwater places for a get together. But then again it was Clan Americus. Probably the pinnacle of podunk Mandalorian clans. Not that that was something he found bad about his newer family. If anything it was quite the opposite. It wasn't bloated with needless member or put under the spot light all the time.

With a quick glance through the establishment, Roy's retinal scanners picked up the only other two familiar faces out of the dozens. If they recognized him as well he'd provide them with a slight two figured salute and make his way over to them. When he got to the two girls he greet them. "Maggie, Daisy..." He said with a nod to each. "It's a pleasure to see the two of you here." Roy spoke with his "fancy" voice as some of the other member put it. Never really picking up on the accent they all had in clan Americus.

[member="Aiden"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Formorta"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Maggie-Rae Americus"]

 

[Maggie-Rae Americus]

Things were gettin’ all kinds of fun already! And by fun, Maggie-Rae meant loud and rowdy. Singing at the top of her lungs she joined in: “A pint of ale, a pint of blood - Buys men without a name!” The redhead Mandalorian sounded like a dying shriek-hawk, her superpower being that not one syllable remained in tune.

Mags poured herself another shot and drank it down with a vengeance.

"We never care who wins the war! So you can keep your fame!"

As she was ready to belt out another round of the song, she watched Daisy’s attention being drawn away to someone entering the cantina. “Now there’s a drink of iced tea, I reckon.”

Tall, dark and obviously trouble, Maggie-Rae resisted the temptation to scamper over and jump right in his lap. Then again, she wasn’t drunk enough to ignore all of those rational warning flags in her brain that told her it wasn’t a good idea.

So she kept drinking tihaar. Problem solved.

“Oh lookie there, it’s Roy,” shouted the redhead. “Dynamo, what are you doing here on this ole dust ball? And while it’s real polite-like that you wiped your boots, I bet the inside of this place is dirtier than a prickle pig in mud.” She had no idea the man was a cyborg.

“It’s good to see you uncle,” she effused while giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She had no idea if they were even related by blood but to Maggie-Rae any Americus was family.


[member="Aiden"] [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Formorta"] [member="Lirka Ka"] [member="Roy Americus"]

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka was yet to approach the Mandalorians, either not drunk enough or not angry enough to do so yet. She had gotten a smide...preoccupied, and made that readily apparent as she slammed her gauntlet on the bar to emphasis, sending half a shake through the bar and spilling a drink: she didn't pay even the slightest bit of attention to it:

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Tanea dan hay lapa see da joday! Dotlamka bu phabeka...no! Nothing good, ya’ nothing better than an Underworld runt when you work as a Mercenary! I had all the violence and blood I wanted in my lap, Pai o caes ti!? It ain’t worth it!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Seems the booze had made the Sephi go off on a rant about how much she had become to despise how much of her life she had gone and spent working as a mercenary during those times in the Underworld before the CIS, her rant was of course...interesting...because for the poor patron she had gone off yelling at: seemingly a hired gun by the rougher appearance, she had gone through three languages to make it, Huttese, Basic, and the Sephi language. Just to make it nice and confusing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]She was far from very secretive about it either, practically shouting. Good booze on Tatooine.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Maggie-Rae Americus"] [member="Roy Americus"] [member="Aiden"] [member="Formorta"] [member="Daisy Americus"] [/SIZE]

 

[Formorta]

Formorta had just continued to stare at the off worlders with a quizzical look, more so when a man came in, who was quickly jumped by the two women. Both singing in a mando tongue with volume to give a rancor a run for it's money in the roaring departments. In addition some heavily armored girl was stumbling around just as drunk but not singing.

"This crowd, very lively, good money you getting"? she asked the bartender, not really reacting to either event. It had reminderd her of the few times she had gotten drunk, often resulting in more fights then singing. "Mando's always good for business, they drink a lot and provide free entertainment but don't tend to cause trouble, well most of the time anways, though I gotta ask, what you doing back here"? "Break, no work... why, is that problem with you"? "Ha no, your always welcome here".

[member="Lirka Ka"] [member="Maggie-Rae Americus"] [member="Roy Americus"] [member="Aiden"] [member="Daisy Americus"]