Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Other Half

Cora was keen on immersing herself in the lives of the common folk.

According to Makko, the common folk enjoyed drinking and attending live music events. In her life, Cora hadn't even collectively indulged in an entire bottle of wine. A glass here and there at dinner, and perhaps a delicately held champagne flute while attending some formal event.

She'd been to the orchestra on Naboo a couple of times. In a private box, no less.

He'd suggested they attend a 'gig' after a few drinks. Cora wasn't entirely sure what a gig was, and after an exhaustive holonet search and an eye numbing amount of outfit changes, she was ready.

"This is…surprisingly nice."

Cora marveled at the bar he'd chosen. It was relatively clean and had decent, modern decor. Nothing like the underworld dive she'd pictured, but they hadn't descended into the lower levels of Coruscant for this foray.

As they slid into their seats, Cora adjusted the white coat draped over her shoulders. Underneath was a black tee with a skull made of up tiny stars on the front, tucked into a plain black miniskirt. Feeling self conscious about showing too much skin, she'd elected to throw on a pair of black leggings before leaving. Chunky black boots and a studded choker complete the holonet-approved look.


"Do you think I'm dressed appropriately?" Cora leaned towards Makko, voice low with a thread of anxiety. Her usual dress was far more preppy, never had she worn so much black in her life.

“I wouldn’t want to offend anyone.”

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"So, here's the thing..." Makko said, about to repeat a piece of wisdom he'd picked up from a much older, apathetic member of the Fractal State gang.

"Everyone wants to make, like, their own identity. But everyone also wants to fit in. But no on really cares what anyone else is wearing all that much. An' if they do, probably not worth bothering about."

It was definitely not something Makko had worked out on his own.

"You look good, love the boots," he said.

There was a chance her looks was the kind that would invite a 'name any of this band's songs' comment from a middle aged man in a twenty year old band t-shirt, but Makko would probably pick a fight and get them thrown out if that happened.

As far as he was concerned, that was part of the experience.

"Whadda want to drink?"

Makko was more limited by budget for his own choices. He had a crypt locker on the net with some rainy day funds, but he wanted to keep that as a last resort in case he had to run from the Jedi too. He wore a plain black fitted tee and ripped jeans. Makko had a studded bracelet that had tech built into the band, slowly shifting colours at random now. It would start to match the tempo and tone of the music when a band played.
 
Cora regarded Makko's wisdom with wide eyed-attention. She looked down at her clothing. What she wore didn't matter to other people?

"Try wearing the wrong color gown at a the spring harvest ball on Ukatis." She mumbled under her breath, suddenly picturing a group of teenage aristocrat girls giggling cruelly from behind the cover of their fans.

Still, this wasn't a noble gathering where they'd be picked apart. This was a bar, and no one seemed to be paying all that much attention to them.


"Thanks. I like your bracelet, Makko." She slid two fingers to either side of the studded leather and lifted his wrist a little closer to her gaze. The shifting colors were a nice touch.

Strangely, she hasn't given much thought on what to drink. Cora released his hand as she mulled on a response. "I don't really drink a lot. I'm not sure that a place like this would carry the sweet wines from home that I'm used to." Her eyes idly scanned the back wall behind the bar.

"I have always wanted to try beer, though."

A drink of the commoners, as she saw it.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Glad you like it," he said. Makko liked wearing colourful things that drew attention. Tech wear was very in back on Denon. Which was good for him because he could program his own microboards to control any lights.

"What can I get you both?" asked the bothan who almost skidded to a halt at their table. He looked from one to the other and back again. Makko could see the mental shrug as the bothan decided that he couldn't be bothered to check for ID today.

"A beer for me and a shandy," Makko replied. "I'll get these," he offered as the bothan left. He knew he could at least manage a couple of drinks.
 
Cora froze, breath hitching in her throat when the Bothan looked between them both. They were technically underage by Coruscant standards, if barely.

Makko had insisted that this was part of the experience. Cora was worried about what would happen if they were caught.

She exhaled slowly when he left without hassling them about their age.

"Are you sure?"

Credits didn't come as easily for Makko as they did for Cora. Money was no object for the rich girl who'd always had nearly endless wealth at her disposal. She could’ve bought the bar without batting an eye.

"I can get the next round, then."

She glanced towards the bar, then back to Makko.

"What's a shandy?"

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Yeah, you can get the next one," Makko said. "And the one after that," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

"It's a beer mixed with lemonade," he explained. "So that you can pace yourself."

Theyd talked about whether drinking before a gig was even necessary. He didn't need Cora blazing drunk before the music started.

For one thing, she wouldn't enjoy the night as much.

Secondly, and far more importantly, she would be proved right about something.

The drinks were placed down on the table in tall glasses. Makko lifted his and clinked it against Cora's.

"You heard of this band?" he asked, assuming the answer would be no.
 
"I can pace myself just fine." Came an insistent reply as their glasses clinked together. Still, Cora sipped carefully from the edge, eyes brightening in surprise at the rather unoffensive taste.

"The Starkillers? Not before tonight, no." Her head shook from side to side. "As long as they're loud, I don't care."

Cora's taste in music was twofold. She'd been made to practice concert piano since she was small, so she developed a genuine interest in classical pieces. Her other preference, discovered in a holonet rabbit hole, was loud, angry music.

She took another sip, this one longer as she allowed the sweet acidity of the lemon to sit on her tongue for a moment.

"Where did you find out about them, anyway?"

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"I kinda just searched the net for what was on. I didn't want to do like, big stadium music."

He didn't want to and he would also have felt bad about how much the tickets were. For some reason it felt different to be treated to evening out by Cora than to be asking her for credits to buy tickets.

He was going to have to get a part time job. Maybe that was something Starlin could help him find.

Thinking that it was something that would impress Cora, Makko immediately downed half his beer.

"I'd normally go for something big and electronic, but I like listening to all sorts," Makko said. "As long as its not too mainstream."

At his age, being from Denon, it was deeply uncool to like anything mainstream or corporate. Anything rebellious was good.
 
Cora watched with wide eyes as Makko downed nearly half of his drink in one go. It was as impressive as it was unsettling.

Not to be outdone, she took another small sip of her shandy. She was still getting used to the taste.

"Can I try yours?" She ventured, leaning a little closer in her seat.

"Is electronic music big on Denon?"

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Yeah sure," he said, sliding his glass towards her. "It's not a particularly good beer."

It was a standard commercial beer rather than a small, local batch. Which of course meant that Makko looked down on it, despite not really being able to tell the difference.

His was the same brand as her beer, it just hadn't been mixed with lemonade.

"Yeah lots of people like to mix. By there are some wicked rockers who aren't attached to a corporate label," he said.

Makko didn't really know all that much about good music from outside of Denon. The gangs liked to listen to stuff from local groups.
 
Cora regarded Makko's glass with curiosity. She'd never had real beer before. The lemonade made her own drink somewhat palatable, but she didn't count that.

"So you wouldn't go to see a band if they were operating under a corporate label, no matter how good they were?"

Though she teased, it was also a challenge. She knew Makko's distaste for Corpos well.

Leaving him to ruminate on that thought, Cora took a sip of his beer. She pulled away immediately, lips pursed together in an alarmed grimace before swallowing thickly.

"That is disgusting," She gasped in a harsh whisper, voice low so as to not offend the staff. With a cringe, she slid the glass back over to him. "I haven't the faintest idea how you can drink so much without gagging."

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"When a band..." Makko had been about to launch into a rant about corporate influence and censorship.

He shut his mouth.

"Hmm, nearly got me going," he mumbled, pretending to be irked.

He stuck out his tongue.

"I've swallowed worse down without gagging," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Diggon used to make spirits in a bathtub. It was safe because it could kill any germ or virus on contact. Braincells too."
 
"In a bathtub?"

Cora grimaced, and it took some willpower to keep from gagging. Instead, she shuddered. Sterile as though the homebrew might be, she did not relish the thought of drinking anything that came out of a bathtub.

"Can something really be safe if it kills braincells?"

She held back a rude comment about that.

Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a larger sip of her drink and pulled back with a hum of approval. The lemonade helped to wash down the bitter taste of beer.


"This, however, is quite tolerable."


Cora had been used to expensive, vintage wines, luxurious meals and private boxes at music events. Still, there was something satisfying about blending into the crowd of a standard bar scene with Makko. Here they were just two faces lost in a sea of chatter.

"Soo…all I have to do to irritate you is play some big label music?"

She grinned wide and took another drawn-out sip while lifting a challenging brow in his direction.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"This, however, is quite tolerable."

"Always a roundabout way of pointing out when I'm right," Makko teased, shaking his head with mock dismay.

"Soo…all I have to do to irritate you is play some big label music?"

He narrowed his eyes sharply. This time it wasn't in jest. He had given away ample ammunition without even thinking about it.

"It wouldn't even bother me," he professed. The lie was paper-thin.

"I'm sure they'll have something you'll like at the gig too. You'd be alright with a house white in a plastic cup right?"
 
Cora met his glare with a lofted brow. Even with her lips pressed to the glass, he wouldn't be able to miss her grin. A grin that told him Cora was already thinking of a hundred ways to wield Makko's distaste of corporate labels against him.

She placed her glass on the table with a satisfied sigh. It was no sweet red, but the shandy would do for now, and the company was pleasant. Even when they got along, Makko and Cora still managed to make little jabs at eachother.

They'd come from vastly different lifestyles, yet there was a kinship in how stubborn the street rat and the rich girl both were.

"Stars above," She shook her head. "They serve wine at these events? And in a plastic cup, of all things?"

Not that she'd expected any crystalline wine glasses to come out at a punk show.

"As long as it's better than that swill you're drinking, I'll manage."

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"You do that and you'll find yourself devoid of any hotel rooms for a long, long time."

Her murmured threat was less idle, eyes flickering sharply before closing as she lifted her chin. Another sip of the shandy followed.

Then, another. Her own glass was a third empty, which was a considerable feat for such a lightweight.

"The pit? What on Coruscant is the pit?"

It sounded like some sort of punishment.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Yeah but you'd be devoid of..."

Makko stopped himself. In a battle between his prowess and Cora's stubborn resolve he knew that he was going to lose.

He looked at his empty glass and decided that he'd stop there for now. He hadn't exactly been drinking heavily during his months of training and didn't want to embarrass himself.

"The pit is the middle of the crowd, like, right in front of the stage where everyone gets into pushing and shoving when it gets angry," he said.

"We should probably stay out of it," he said. Compared to some of the huge people that tended to dance around the pit, Makko was a slip of a thing that could be shoulder barged into next month.
 
"Pushing and shoving? Why would people be angry at a concert?"

Sure, the music could be angry, but was it supposed to make attendees angry in turn? Cora was beginning to wonder if this was a bad idea. Another sip of the shandy chased that thought away.

"I agree, we should avoid this pit. It sounds rather dangerous."

Makko had finished his drink quickly, but it would take Cora some time to finish the remainder of her own.



There'd been a chill in the air as they made their way to the venue, but it was almost blisteringly humid when the pair stepped inside the concert hall.

"There's so many people here already," Cora had to raise her voice in order for it to be lifted above the idle chatter of the crowd. She frowned and squeezed Makko's arm.

"Isn't this a fire hazard?"

Bodies were packed end to end on the floor in front of the stage, and the overhanging balconies were beginning to fill out.

Makko Vyres Makko Vyres
 
"Yeah I'd suggest not smoking," Makko replied.

Makko had to place a hand around her shoulder and leaned in closer to speak. He expected even that gesture probably felt too familiar for Cora in a public space. His thumb idly traced the edge of the choker she was wearing. That thing was causing him some issues.

"Why don't we get a drink?" he called out. He then mimed swigging a drink just to make sure. He took her hand and led her through the crowd to one side of the stage. It was probably better they kept to the edge of the crowd rather than getting crushed up front or in the pit - if one formed.

"Wait here, I'll grab something," he said to Cora as they reached the crowd around the overworked bar. He snuck through as much of it as he could, sliding up to the bar from the side and avoiding a ten minute wait. He took a few goes to catch the eye of the barstaff.

Cora was approached by someone much taller than her and at least ten years her senior.

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"Hey there, looking forward to the band?" he asked, stepping into her personal space and raising his voice.

"Hey, got your wine in a plastic..." Makko started to say as he approached. He frowned, feeling a wave of annoyance.

"Oi," went Makko, giving the man a nudge in the ribs with one elbow. "Get fethed!"

The man took a step back, sized up Makko, laughed and then held out his hands. "Sorry!" he said, voice laced with sarcasm.

Makko held out the plastic cup of wine, no apology for his overly possessive behaviour.
 

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