First Reply That Girl is so Dangerous

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

She won't stab you in the back, she'll do it face-to-face and charge interest
​

Location: Outer Rim, Cantina on Varnak Station
Time: Late. The kind of late when bad decisions get made.

---

The cantina smelled like regret, spilled spice, and cheap synth-ale. Just Kinley's kind of place.

She slipped into a booth in the corner, back to the wall, eyes on the exits, jacket still damp from the acid rain outside. Her blaster, half-holstered but always ready, rested like a threat against her thigh. Across the table sat a man who talked too much and thought too little. That was fine. She didn't come for brains, just a name, a location, and a cut.

He slid the datapad toward her, all nervous fingers and flinching eyes. Kinley Pryse didn't blink. Didn't smile. She just lit a stimstick, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly through her nose like a dragon considering whether or not to burn the village.

"I paid for intel, not excuses," she said, voice low, lazy, and laced with venom.

The guy opened his mouth to argue.

Bad move.

There was a sudden crack! and the table jolted. Kinley's boot had connected with his shin under the table, hard enough to make him yelp and knock over his drink. She caught her stim between two fingers, smoke curling from the end, and smiled like a shark in a kiddie pool.

"Try again. This time without the stalling."

Behind her, the cantina's doors hissed open. More footsteps. More eyes. More problems. Kinley didn't look, but her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the table.

This was about to get interesting.

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gavin Restur]

How he managed to get himself here is a whole other tale...
​

He was right smack in the middle of territory that isn't quite welcoming to his kind. He had already stuffed away his badge far in a crevice that no one would search on his ship. It was fortunate enough that he isn't popular enough of a bounty hunter, that the everyday person would recognize him.

But, it likely a pretty easy assumption to make on why he was here. He was after someone. Someone pretty dangerous. Someone who has been around this area, according to one of his informants. Someone who thinks they're safe from any repercussions or consequences, because they decide to cower away in a section of the galaxy that is riddled with others of their kind.

Unfortunately, it ain't that easy.

The doors of the cantina open with a hiss, as the man stepped inside. His brim hat dripping droplets from the acid rain, though his clothing was able to prevent any of that acid from soaking his bare skin, which was pretty fortunate. He had his respirator on, shielding his lungs from inhaling anything terrible.

His eyes scanned around the cantina, eyeing the occupants inside. Bartender, a woman and a man sitting off in a corner, a couple other folk laced about, minding their business. Quite the party. His gloved hands reach up, carefully removing the respirator from around his face, and stuffing it in his satchel.

This place smelled like cheap synth-ale, spilled spice, and regret. Not his preferred location for a libation or two, but he's here for some information. Gradual steps would lead him towards the counter of the bar, slipping himself into a seat. A brief wave of his hand brought the bartender over.

"Just a beer, please. Ain't too picky on what kind." To which, the bartender stepped off for a moment.

In that time that they were gone, he spent it looking around. That guy with the girl in the corner seemed to be, in humble terms, not having the best time at the moment. He didn't stare at the pair for long, though kept his ears open to see if he can do a bit of eavesdropping.

Why? Well, why not?

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Half the Galaxy Wants to Hire Her. The Other Half Wants her in Bindercuffs.​

A few moments later, her drinking partner scooted off, hopefully to get her the information she needed. If she had to ask a third time, there was going to be trouble. Flint was on her ass about getting that bit, and when he was in one of his moods, it rained hell down on Kinley.

She settled back into her booth and kept an eye on the entrance. The man who walked in caught her attention. He was dressed like a criminal but carried himself like someone with a code. That kind of contradiction didn't belong in a place like this.

Curious, she rose and made her way to the bar, sliding into the open seat beside him.

"Nice hat," she said with a grin, tipping her own in greeting. Always nice to meet a man who knew how to dress.

Gavin Restur

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gavin Restur]

While his eyes were currently facing ahead, he spotted the man scampering off out of the corner of his eye. Not only that, but his left-behind associate decided to get up, and make her way right over to him. There had been a tilt of his head towards her direction as she walked over, actually getting a good look in for once.

He can pick up on quite a few things about a person just by the way they walk. And judging by the way she did such, she definitely has a sense of confidence in herself. Someone who's accustomed to this type of environment. And the type of folk who walk around with their heads high around the parts, are the ones who get their hands dirty. If he had to make a guess or two, she's probably some type of smuggler or low-level criminal.

Did he care? Not exactly. He has other business to attend to: drink, and get information. In that order of importance. Eyes would trail as she sat herself down.

["Nice hat."]

There was a brief glance up to the brim of his own hat, before taking a gander towards hers. "Can say the same 'bout you, ma'am." Giving a gentle flick of the brim of his hat, in acknowledgment of her tipping.

"Though, I don't suppose you got another reason for stepping over? Unless you really wanted to compliment my choice of headdress: which, I'm certainly not complaining 'bout." Keeping a rather friendly manner of speaking, as a light smile was present on his face.

Kinley Pryse

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

She's got a code. It's just... written in invisible ink

​

Kinley lifted two fingers at the bartender as they came around and soon she was supplied with another mocktail. It looked exactly like the real thing, it just had no alcohol in it. She fessed up a cred chip. Now they were true drinking partners.

She grinned at his assessment of her reasoning. True she hadn't just come over to say his hat was nice, but rather because he seemed interesting. A new face could mean trouble so Kinley liked to keep them ordered.

"Well I haven't seen you around before. Guess I'm the welcoming committee. Not many folks make it way out here unless they are looking for something."

She let the question hang between them.

Gavin Restur

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gavin Restur]

With the other's drink arriving, so did his own. A gloved hand reached over, giving the bartender an appreciative nod on top of a couple credits to pay. Now that he got his drink, he took a nice, long sip as he listened to the other.

["Well I haven't seen you around before. Guess I'm the welcoming committee. Not many folks make it way out here unless they are looking for something."]

A gradual lower of his glass back onto the counter. "A welcomin' committee? Color me flattered."

"Well, ma'am, I'm merely a traveler. While I would admittedly prefer not being here, no offense, it would seem as though my journey has decided otherwise." Another siiiiiiiip of his drink.

"And if you're givin' me a 'welcomin committee', I guess that means that you ain't no stranger 'round these parts, are you?" Spoken with cheeky grin. Obviously he knows the answer to that. He just wants to see what she says.

Kinley Pryse