Desmond C'artyom
Space Jockey
Desmond was doing what Des did best, and that was drinking his problems away till he had nary a care in the world. The bar he found himself in was a dive with a capital D. The front was plastered in scorch marks from blasters while the top was adorned with a half lit neon sign advertising a Hutt slug slithering into what appeared to be a bottle. The name was indiscernible as the sign's lit portion went as far as the slug and bottle, while the name sparked dangerously in the night..
Desmond lie half slumped over the bar on a wooden stool with pleather seats. He held a beer bottle in hand, but with his head swimming the way it was he wasn't sure he'd be able to finish it. He and Lulu had just made a killing doing a job, and now he was hell bent on spending all his money getting kharked up.
Desmond decided it was time to apply a little something to even out his drunk. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small pack of deathsticks. Fumbling open the small container he withdrew the stick of spice and shoved it in his mouth wrong side forward.
"You can't smoke that in here," Came the call from the old one eyed bartender
"Hmpf," Desmond responded with a crap eating grin on his face.
He lit the drug regardless and choked as he took a mouthful of straight filter in. Quickly putting the deathstick out Desmond checked his pockets for his cash and too put the deathsticks away. He still had plenty of both, which he found odd, but also extremely pleasing. He turned to the bar and surveyed the room.
It was dimly lit, with wooden tables and stools. An odd chandelier with fake candles sat center piece while booths marked the edges. Bright florescents lit the inside of the booths, blinding anyone nosy enough to look in. The crowd was comprised of a group of thugs in a corner table playing pazaak, a Mandalorian eyeing the thugs rather suspiciously, a group of spice fiends eyeing Desmond rather suspiciously, and a hardened group of factory nine to fivers. All in all it was exactly the kind of hardened drinkers you'd expect to find in a bar like this.
The Chiss grabed half empty beer and walked to the center of the bar. His bantha hide boots squelching across the sticky floor as he did so.
"Next rounds on me!" He slurred in his drunken stupor and the bar erupted in cheers
Desmond lie half slumped over the bar on a wooden stool with pleather seats. He held a beer bottle in hand, but with his head swimming the way it was he wasn't sure he'd be able to finish it. He and Lulu had just made a killing doing a job, and now he was hell bent on spending all his money getting kharked up.
Desmond decided it was time to apply a little something to even out his drunk. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small pack of deathsticks. Fumbling open the small container he withdrew the stick of spice and shoved it in his mouth wrong side forward.
"You can't smoke that in here," Came the call from the old one eyed bartender
"Hmpf," Desmond responded with a crap eating grin on his face.
He lit the drug regardless and choked as he took a mouthful of straight filter in. Quickly putting the deathstick out Desmond checked his pockets for his cash and too put the deathsticks away. He still had plenty of both, which he found odd, but also extremely pleasing. He turned to the bar and surveyed the room.
It was dimly lit, with wooden tables and stools. An odd chandelier with fake candles sat center piece while booths marked the edges. Bright florescents lit the inside of the booths, blinding anyone nosy enough to look in. The crowd was comprised of a group of thugs in a corner table playing pazaak, a Mandalorian eyeing the thugs rather suspiciously, a group of spice fiends eyeing Desmond rather suspiciously, and a hardened group of factory nine to fivers. All in all it was exactly the kind of hardened drinkers you'd expect to find in a bar like this.
The Chiss grabed half empty beer and walked to the center of the bar. His bantha hide boots squelching across the sticky floor as he did so.
"Next rounds on me!" He slurred in his drunken stupor and the bar erupted in cheers