The Laughing Jester, Floor 1313, Coruscant [Open to All]

[Myra]

(Floor 1313, by Bruno Werneck)​

The Laughing Jester Comedy Club and Cantina, one of the few places on floor 1313 that a man could grab a drink and not feel like another was going to try to steal it from him. It's owner, a gangster by the name of Manic ran the place, with no actual gang to back him up.. whether he simply didn't need help, or hadn't found any yet, was one of the great questions that most patrons asked themselves as they wandered into the smokey lounge of the Laughing Jester. It had a constant supply of comedians on stage, good ones too, Manic didn't hire anyone who didn't make him laugh with every joke. Behind the comedians was several instruments, that changed every week or so as Manic hired a new band to keep things fresh.. But most importantly about the whole set up was the cantina, the drinks weren't cheap, but they were good, imported off world usually and not the disgusting poodoo that most of the places sold around here, most of it was good stuff, and most of it was legal.. but not all of it, all you had to do was sit at the cantina, or one of the tables or booths and wait for a Twi'lek serving girl to come for your order, well, if you were on the bottom floor. The top floor was reserved for Manic and his friends, and the girls already knew their orders by heart even though the Laughing Jester had only been open for a week or so.

This particular night was just like most others, patrons sitting at the cantina drinking, the crowd laughing and chuckling as jokes are told by a new addition to the dozens of comedians that make The Laughing Jester their place of business, and the large butch body guards making sure no one gets too rowdy. But unlike other nights, something was different, Manic himself was in the Cantina, sitting on the upper floor and looking boredly down at the crowd that gathered in his rooms. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out as a heavy sigh his eyes drift down to the pommel of his walking cane as his fingers drum against it, he was bored.. he was expecting something interesting to have happened already but nothing really had. Maybe something interesting would walk through those doors any second now? As he thought this, his eyes rest on the entrance to the Club.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpese let out a small yawn as he entered the Jester. It had been some time since he'd been to Coruscant, longer still since he'd been welcome without the reign of the sith. And while the planet still bore the scars of its past, he could see that the people were healing. Of course, that didn't mean that levels such as the infamous 1313 were going to change any time soon. But that was good for business. So long as crime existed, Vulpesen would always have a palce in the galaxy. However, chasing baddies wasn't all he had the need to do. Now, he was focused on something else, relaxation and a good laugh.

As he strode to the bar, he glanced around, his glemaing eyes shining brightly in the dimness of the bar. Under his hood, a single pointed ear flicked towards the comedian, listening for the coming punchline. "Whiskey." It was the only word that left him as he took his seat. However, the silence didn't seem to be an attempt at some sort od edge or the result of any gruffness, rather Vulpesen leaned back in his seat, letting his body relax while to paid for his drink. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to the chance to kick back.

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"What's a Mandalorian's favorite drink?" The comedian asks before finishing the joke "Mando'ade!" And this is followed be laughing all around.


Manic didn't really find this particular joke funny.. but what he did find interesting was the man sitting down at his bar.. the one with the glowing eyes, so with a heave of his body he pulls himself up and out of his chair, wandering down the stairs, his two body guards following close behind, massive muscly men wearing casual clothing.. the opposite of Manic, who wears only a pair of cloth pants and several rings made a variety of metals and all sporting valuable jewels.Yet, he doesn't seem too concerned about the lack of his shirt, showing off the vicious tattoos and the silver teeth as he gives the man a large smile

"Welcome! To the Laughing Jester, I hope it's... adequate."

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen turned to face the man who was adresing him, spinning slowly on his stool. Normally he'd blow it off as some spice riddled crazy what with the tattoos, shirtlessness, and bedazzled teeth. But one glance at the guards in conjunction with his words was enough to tell him otherwise. "Interesting place. Much more lively than most places I visit on this planet." He turned around, his tail curling up by the small of his back to stay out of sight. "Take it you're the owner of this fine establishment."

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"I try to spice up the boring gray.. I attempt to make things fun where ever I stay." She grins at him again, before chuckling and going to sit next to him, and spin around on the spiny stool a few times before stopping himself with his cane and leaning in, only a few inches away from him "So.. Who Are you?"

His two guards stand behind him, arms crossed, but their hand hovering only a few inches away from the holsters under their coats to the chest holster for a blaster.. ready for any trouble should anything try to happen to their boss.

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's ear faced itself towards the jester as he spoke his rhymes. Owner or not, perhaps spiced up crazy might still be an accurate description. Waiting for his spinning to stop, Vulpesen simply disreagarded the guards, focusing on the question. They might have been rather large, but he'd faught far bigger, not that he was looking for a fight now. "Vulpesen Torrevaso, Alphos of the Veran people." He attempted not to overstate his pride in his statement, mentioning it as matter-of-factly as possible, though his pride in the title was still quite audible. Of course, his name itself was once a badge of honor as well, a name that was known across the galaxy. A part of him wondered if there was still any truth to that. "And who are you, sir?"

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"You may call me Manic, a boring name given to me by a word mechanic... although he was rather.. dull." He spins again a few more times before facing the bar and leaning back, propping his legs up on the counter, and leaning back, one of his guards notices this, and faces away, shuffling to the side so that Manic leans back against him, as if he was a back-rest on a chair. Manic then begins to spin his cane in his hand as he sighs. "Most people are dull.. most places are dull.. pretty much.. everything is dull.." He growls the word everything, as if frustrated by that before he tilts his head and grins at @Vulpesen "Are you boring? Your name and title hints that you aren't.. But the question still stands."

 

[Vulpesen]

"I see... And I suppose you're right that things have become rather boring. Though after a life of excitement, perhaps thats what the galaxy needs these days." A king, a warrior, a villain, and a hero. He'd one it all. It was what had driven him to hide on his planet. Too much conflict and it had finally gotten to him. Then again, he could feel the ice crawling up his spine as he remembered the two years he spent locked up in his office, signing document after document. "But I've stated before that normality is synonomous with boring and if thats true, then I'm anything but boring. What I am now is hard to say. But what I was, is a story worth telling. There was a time I could be found in every battle field, and my name was one that every sith knew as a man worth killing."

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"Ooooooh! So you Are interesting? A warrior? And an enemy of the sith? I believe We can get along!" He giggles, which then changes into a dramatic cackle and laugh, mid-joke so the whole room turns to look at him, then realizing who it is, turns back to the comedian who stutters as he tries to get back on track.

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

As Manic cackled and raved, Vulpesen could feel a shift in his breast pocket until finally the glowing blue head of Ace poked out to observe who had woken him from his nap. "Thank you I think... Though you yourself seem to be quite a character." He grinned a bit, his tail now flicking udner his coat. "And its good to see someone who's not a fan of the sith, even in a place like this."

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

Manic's eyes glance down to the wolf poking it's head out then back up to the man and gives a bashful smile "Ooohhhh, No need to say that. I mean, I already knew it, and I love it when people say it, but tradition states I shouldn't ask for compliments.. so dull." He sighs exasperatedly before going to begin spinning around on his stool again. "So, looking for work?" He asks without stopping his spinning.

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

An odd fellow indeed. But his mind was certainly working. Though, while Vulpesen watched passively, Ace's canine face was filled with confusion. "Work? I'm a king on my world. I needn't work another day in my life." His grin took a crooked turn. "However, I will admit that ruling a planet gets boring with all the paperwork. But depending on what you have in mind, I could use a bit of excitement."

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"See! Paperwork is boring, dull, exasperating. And see, you run a planet, and I want to run a planet, specifically this floor that we're sitting in, maybe more later on." He then abruptly stops his spinning and then stands, beckoning him to follow with his finger "I don't like talking in public, come with me upstairs.. if you dares." He then heads upstairs, to a small office, and if he attempted to follow the two guards who stop at the stairs would permit him to head up to the bizarre office. Strange lime green walls with a purple carpet on the floor, the walls covered in scribbling in navy blue paint, some in galactic standard and some in Mando'a.

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

He rose a brow at [member="Manic"]'s words, but followed him nonetheless. Nodding tot he guards as he passed them, Vulpesen slipped into the office and glanced around at the strange surroundings. Obviously this man was full of surprises, not the least of which was the mando'a that could be found on the walls. A faction who's relationship with him was... rocky at best. Moving his hand, he used a simply push with the force to shut the door. "You should know that running a planet successfully does require enough paperwork to destroy a forest or two. Believe me, I speak from experience."

 

[Myra]

"Paperwork is boring but necessary.. I can always get others to do it for me." He stretches and sighs, opening a cabinet in the desk he sits behind, a neon yellow chair open and ready for the man to sit on if he so wishes, made of wood unlike Manic's chair, which he spins in a few more times before actually reaching into the cabinet and pulling out a large bottle "Whiskey, correct?" He asks [member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

The zorren shrugged and nodded a bit. "I suppose. I set up something like that before I left." As Manic revelead the large amber container, Vulpesen couldn't hide his fanged smile. "You are observant. Yes." He placed a hand on the arm of his seat, tapping it idly with a clawed finger. "So, what have you planned for this place? Forgive me but you don't seem the sort to have an eye for politics."

[member="Manic"]

 

[Myra]

"I don't, you're very correct on that. Observant yourself." He compliments with another smile, before stopping and leaning in on his desk, propping his head up on a hand, which rests by the elbow on his desk. "But politics down here is easy.. supply and demand.. so if I take over the entrances, total control? This floor? And all the floors under it will succumb to my will.. I'll control all the food, water, and even the air purifiers if everything works properly, so people will follow my will or I'll simply wipe the entire floor clean of life, in theory." He adds the 'in theory' as if an afterthought, trying to keep him guessing as if to how diabolical he really is "So I need people who are willing to work under me loyally, you don't have much to gain, seeing as you're rich, and already own an entire planet... so I can offer you one thing that's hard to come by now adays... fun. You help me run this floor? You can do what ever you want, and I'll make sure you can do it."

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's eyes narrowed at his speech. [member="Manic"] was as his name suggested, Unpredictable, a wild card. Everything about him shouted a devil may care attitude. But everone had motives. One thing that drove them and guided them. And for all his oddness, Vulpesen had glimpsed insanity that came with one completley losing their minds. This was a different kind. The kind he had acted as under the name of Tsolan. "Mister Manic, I and my people live under a simple code. Life, Freedom, and Unity. And while I am searching for entertainment, I can't have that happening at the expense of innocent people. The motive of power is indeed one that gives me cause for concern."

 

[Myra]

"Mr. Vulpesen, I would never be oppressive, but you see.. Floor 1313 is run entirely by gangs, and the farther you go down the more diabolical and deviant these gangs get.. from crazed cults to slavers, if I had complete control, I guarantee on my honor, that I will not harm anyone unless they pose a threat to the freedom of the others on floor 1313." He seems shocked, perhaps even insulted that the man would assume he was some kind of diabolical dictator. "You can just kill me if this proves otherwise, I assume you're capable of doing this hmmm?"

[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

He tilted his head at the man's words. As Manic spoke, Vulpesen was reachig out with the force, attempting to gleam his truthfullness through the force if not by his outward expressions. "I suppose there's more than a little truth to those facts. And yes, not only could I kill you, I'd be obligated to. Tyranny is one of only three crimes that is punishable by death in Vitae law." He placed his elbows on the table and pushed back his hood. Now visible was the single pointed ear on the side of his head, the other seemingly torn off in some sort of battle. Also visible was the golden fox mask that rested atop his head, soon removed to reveal a single white lock of hair among the mess of natural brown. A streak of white that had seen by more than a few foes, and a mask that had once been known to the whole galaxy. "So, what do you need me for?"

[member="Manic"]