That's... an Interesting Name. [Complete]

[Sarge Potteiger]

Corellia
Orbital Platform Canyon Reach
@[member="Vanilla Toner"]

Sarge sighed, right arm reaching down to mess with the blousing of his fatigue pants. Corellia was his adopted home, since he didn't know the real one, and OmegaPyre was his new benefactor. Taking a look at the whiskey in his glass he simply considers his own reflection for a moment.

There, in the alcohol, he saw a battered shockball cap and a pair of sunshades resting over a bearded face - more of a outdoorsman neck beard than anything else. A frown creased his rounded cheeks which, were it not for the beard, would give him a boyish look that belied his age.

As it was, the facial hair added a good number of years.

The twenty something man scanned the empty reaches of the cantina, thankful it was him, the bartender, and not much else.

Surely that would change.

He just hoped it was no one annoying.

Glass met lips, and burning liquid drained into his throat and down to his stomach.

 

[Vanilla Toner]

She was a pretty girl in her late twenties. Flight suit wrapped around her waist and a cooling vest over her yellow shirt. Her mag-boot gave a heavy thud with each step she took. Saddling up to the bar with a slow step,

"Two of the yellows and one of the greens. Yeah. Thanks."

She popped out a powerbar from her thigh pockets and began munching. She looked tired, bored, and lost in her thoughts. And she never even noticed that she had sat down right next to Sarge.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

A low sound of curiosity escaped the mans throat as his head shifted, eyes flicking to the side to get a view of the blonde next to him. Ugh, Blondes. He hated blondes. To be fair, though, this one would have definitely looked better as a brunette.

"Mmgrm.", he grunts as he takes another swig. "The hell you ordering colors for?"

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"Cause I don't know their damn names."

She shrugged and waved away the comment with a tired sigh.

"I think it's call a Kadrash on Zeltros. A Blat'n'yargo on Coruscant. And a kiss-my-ass on Corellia."

She gave Sarge a side-long look that reflected badly upon a hangover,

"Why the hell you asking."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Cause I wanted to fuckin' know why you ordered colors.", he deadpans, glass settling gently upon the bar as he rotates a bit more to face her, revealing the broad shoulders you'd expect from someone who looked like a mercenary.

He pointed to a drink. "That purple? Some kinda fruity shit here. On Zeltros? That's elixir. And that stuff will mess you up."

There's a bit of a shrug. "Something tells me you don't need to be drinking more just yet. Call it a hunch."

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"You a Pilot? Your ugly enough to be a Pilot."

She turns back and drinks another. Ugh. But he was right. She didn't want to. This wasn't a good pick me up. The banana bar wasn't helping anything either.

"...I'll bet you fly freighters out-system. No. No crew. Your solo. So... I'm going to go with... Mechanic."

She turned back and squinted past her headache,

"I'm right. Aren't I."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I'm ugly enough to be a mercenary. Nice try." It was a horrid try, and his sarcasm reflected it. Emptying his glass, he pushes it away and gives her a once over. "Your tits are too big to be a pilot. Something tells me Im wrong though."

He snorts, "I've never flown freighters or been a mechanic, just so you know. So, you a pilot? Or just a woman trying to drink away a one night stand?"

 

[Vanilla Toner]

Well. He was better at this.

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

She look down at her breasts and back up again. They still felt new.

"I'm a Pilot..." She straightened her shirt, "...Names Peaches. But I think you've figured that out already. And yes. I'd rather forget yesterday."

She sighed,

"And tomorrow if I can try. Ugh. ...Corellia."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Whoa there, Peaches. Don't mock my adopted home. It's a good place - you probably just met the wrong people." that was certainly easy in this galaxy. "Let's find a way for you to relax." There was no suggestion in his voice - he was genuinely trying to be helpful.

"Anything you do to unwind?"

 

[Vanilla Toner]

She turned away from him,

"Shoulders. Let's see those hands work soldier."

She sounded tired but expectant. She certainly never had any trouble asking men to touch her. That was for sure. The bartender look mildly surprised, but carried on.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

That was... surprising. A forward woman. He could respect that. With a bit of a chuckle he pulled off he assault gloves he wore and set them on the counter to reveal the expected calloused palms paired with long, slender fingers.

"Well since you're so demanding..."

Rolling his eyes, he set about massaging his shoulders. Faintly he recalled having been amazing at this, and wondered if he still had the touch.

 

[Vanilla Toner]

She could have moaned like a baby. But she was too tired for such show. She simply sighed and enjoyed it.

"Thats better. I needed this. ...Where'd you get so good at it?"

She closed her eyes and let the alcohol do it's work. Vanilla hated mornings.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Used to do it for fun when I was a boy - wanted to be a massage therapist when I grew up. Strange, I know, but hey... no one said kids had realistic dreams." There came an amused, throaty chuckle. "You needed booze and a massage?"

He laughs. "Should have found a spa. Plenty on Corellia. What were the odds you'd find a guy willing to do this, at a bar, without wanting sex in return?"

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"Don't ask. I'm hoping that, that man, will walk in here any second and you can pummel him for me too."

She shook her head and brushed her hair off her neck. Last night had been a long affair.

"Thanks. By the way. I've got business Planet-Side and this was just the thing."

She relaxed and turned around. That was much better.

"Where's your woman, by the way? Down there. On the planet?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Polite to assume I'm taken, but I'm not. I spend my time annoyingly flirting with my superiors for my own amusement." Talk about honesty. "Keeps me going, I guess." He shrugs. "Whatfer business ya got down there?"

The mans hands retracted to pick up the gloves and tug them back taut onto his hands once more. "By the by, I don't start bar fights - but I will end them. Don't like people disturbing my quiet." One could only imagine what lengths he'd go to for that serenity.

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"Good. I never pick the right man. Glad to see my luck is starting to change."

She sighed and swiveled back around to lean on the bar. She wasn't looking forward to today either.

"I'm a delivery girl. Small cargo. Fast and easy. It pays, surprisingly well. And it's not dangerous. ...But. Hard on the love life. Ya know?"

She frowned. Maybe too deeply. Vanilla was getting old and she knew it. Almost thirty and no kids. Down-right shameful for a Core Worlder. At least... She thought so.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

The man leaned forward a little bit, scratching at the back of his head. When she mentioned the love life, he wanted to tell her to try being frozen and unfrozen randomly across four centuries; but he couldn't say that.

Instead, he just sighs. "Yeah, yeah I know.", he says, head tilting curiously at the frown. "And that's not something you enjoy. Family hounding you for kids or something?"

He didn't have family, not anymore, but it was a good guess.

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"What? No. Just... Lady thoughts. Just lady thoughts. Can't play cowgirl forever. Thats all."

She mused over that. I mean. Vanilla could, play cowgirl forever? But... It was bars like these that reminded her of what that 'glamorous' adventure was really like.

"It's bars like this that remind me that they all look the same."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I'm sorry, alcohol in the mind made me hear something far more perverted than that." What he'd heard was 'I can't ride cowgirl forever', and being slightly inebriated things had gone south. Groaning, he pinches the bridge if his nose and waves for her to continue.

"Life not what you were expecting, huh? What were you? The galaxy is pretty standard unless you find your way to a battlefield or get your hands on an exceptional lay."

 

[Vanilla Toner]

"Well. Maybe. You seem to have it down pat. ...What's your thoughts? Should a girl run solo her whole life?"

She was tempted to answer, but thought better of it. Best to let the stranger talk and see where he was going with this. She had time.