The Angry Cheese
Not A Character
Tracinya had run into Tatooine yet again, all because his ship, an old Personal Luxury Yacht-3000 that he affectionately calls Jate'kara was in need of refueling and repairs after a recent engagement with some now-dead minor pirates in this system. He didn't know who's territory he was in, nor did he care; He only wanted off this burning place.
Looking around the bar, he'll see the occasional cantina woman (Whores, the lot of them.) giving him a lecherous stare. Of course they would, many common women found Mandalorians to be the most interesting kind of men, what with the 'mysterious helmet' and big muscles and guns. He could take any of those women to his ship, maybe even more than one... But no, he doesn't deal with the common slut. If he were to ever want a woman, he would seek her out, and make sure she is actually of some civility. Looking back down to one of his Westar-34s, he ejects the power pack and gives it a fast inspection, before looking up to a togruta who had sat down across from him, saying something in that strange, weak-sounding tongue.
What was it called...? Right, Huttese. But what's that he said about a de-- Oh, I see. And he's going to try to shoot me... Bad move.
After a moment of bickering between the two, the alien's pistol that was rested on the table softly whirs to life, before a lang blast sounds off, followed by him falling face first onto the table with a burning whole through his chest. The Mandalorian, however, is left standing there with a smoking blaster pistol, his pistol held out in front of him almost casually. Tossing a credit chit to the bartender, he returns to his weapon calibrations, shoving the corpse off the table to make room for his other weapons that he would set on the table.
(( [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"], this is an invitation for you to join if you wish! ))
Looking around the bar, he'll see the occasional cantina woman (Whores, the lot of them.) giving him a lecherous stare. Of course they would, many common women found Mandalorians to be the most interesting kind of men, what with the 'mysterious helmet' and big muscles and guns. He could take any of those women to his ship, maybe even more than one... But no, he doesn't deal with the common slut. If he were to ever want a woman, he would seek her out, and make sure she is actually of some civility. Looking back down to one of his Westar-34s, he ejects the power pack and gives it a fast inspection, before looking up to a togruta who had sat down across from him, saying something in that strange, weak-sounding tongue.
What was it called...? Right, Huttese. But what's that he said about a de-- Oh, I see. And he's going to try to shoot me... Bad move.
After a moment of bickering between the two, the alien's pistol that was rested on the table softly whirs to life, before a lang blast sounds off, followed by him falling face first onto the table with a burning whole through his chest. The Mandalorian, however, is left standing there with a smoking blaster pistol, his pistol held out in front of him almost casually. Tossing a credit chit to the bartender, he returns to his weapon calibrations, shoving the corpse off the table to make room for his other weapons that he would set on the table.
(( [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"], this is an invitation for you to join if you wish! ))