TKO "after dark" (All TKO members welcome)

[Bryce Bantam]

[url=http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/phillysmark/media/Purgatory_zpsvrny1orn.png.html] [/URL]​

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Where?

Spoiler

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/87466-purgatory-entertainment-district/#entry1281853

It had been a long time since the former underground and it's new friends had had some down time. With the new space station and social district open BB was looking to open a new entertain establishment call the "Speak easy". Here races and social classes of all types could get together and enjoy the games of chance to their hearts content.

Weather it be Pazaak, Dejarik, Holochex, Digotto, Dueling Dice, Sabacc Binspo, Compmatch, Denebian Holochess, Jubilee Wheel, Lugjack or even betting on Swoop racing from Demonsgate below, the options to win a fortune or lose it all were endless.

With brightly colored lights, multiple banks of games and bars it seemed like a fine place to unwind from the riggers of life on Demonsgate. With the place being so new BB had decided to have a soft opening and invited all of the TKO to join him. Hanging out at the bar he enjoyed a strong cocktail while waiting for his friends to arrive.

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

Doc entered the....
Casino?
No.
Bar?
No.
Gambling Establishment?
Close enough.

With a joyful grin smeared across his face. Gambling had been one of the most consistant parts of his existence, beginning during his adolescence and launching into his adult life. Apparently people cloned from an ancient bounty hunter had some genetic sort of predisposition for activities involving a certain level of risk. It also didn't help that while spearheading certain campaigns the Dreadguard mingled heavily with plenty of young infantrymen with no way to spend their creds and the very real possibility of a horrible death in their immediate future. Doc gave the place a look over as he wandered towards the bar in no particular hurry, his mind buzzing from spice he'd taken on the way over. The thought of this caused Doc to laugh out loud, bringing a couple puzzled glances by some of the more observant patrons.

Calico would have had a shit fit if he could see his former team medic and Staff Sergeant now. Spiced up and hitting the town.

Doc gave a loud "Hey man!" In an expressive gesture, throwing out his arms as he spoke as he saw and approached [member="Bryce Bantam"], ordering a beer before continuing to engage him.

"Not a bad spot." Doc said as he sipped his beer and continued to look about the place.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

THE PLANET
D E M O N S G A T E
PURGATORY LOWER LEVEL | YUM BUNNIES

"Do I want bantha bites? or nexu nuggets?"

Shifting around so that he was standing on his knees atop the bench cusion, the young Mandalorian clone of Jango Fett lowered his menu as he loomed over the table. The pair of younglings were in a booth toward one side of the restaurant. Tactfully away from the bar. The younger and darker skinned of the two appeared to be roughly nine years of age, and was dressed in a blue-on-blue tunic that had a military style patch on the left sleeve and an old DC-17 hand blaster holstered at his side.

Of course, this was the Outback. If a kid didn't carry a blaster, and didn't know how to use it, then they were pretty much just waiting for something nasty to come along.

Sitting across from the kid was an older boy, with a pale complexion and inhumanly blue eyes. He was packing as well, the chrome butt of an NN-14 standing out against his thigh. Other then the fact that they were carrying blasters, and were in the Outback seemingly by themselves, the two boys couldn't have been any more ordinary. They'd ordered a round of ginger beer and were very animated as they sat in the booth.

Three already knew that [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] was going order the Spicy Gargon Gumbo. Or the nerf steak, devil's style. Probably the latter, because it came with a side of bubble-and-squirt, which was some Corellian thing. Whatever that was.

As a waitress passed by their table, the boy slid his legs out from under himself so that he landed back on his bum atop the bench seat. "Can... can we get some more ginger ale?" the boy asked, glancing up for a moment before he picked up his menu again. "And... and then, I want the bantha nuggets."

[member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="CC-420 Doc"]​

 

[Lydeck]

[member="3X744"] | [member="CC-420 Doc"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"]

His eyes struggled to open as the effects of the sedative slowly wore off. He had been in the Outbacks medical care for the last few days with bacta generously applied to his wounds. He was unsure where he was or how long he was here, but he knew he was in capable hands, and safe for the time being. The Kilian Squire sunk his weary head in the pillow under his head and tried to retrace the steps which led him here. The remembered arriving on Naboo, walking the cobblestone pathways and.....

His hand slowly glanced towards his face, more specifically the bridge of his nose. His fingers ran over the newly formed scar, no doubt the product of bacta "Poodoo.....barely out of the Regions for a few months and I already run into trouble" Sidonis quietly culled himself. He knew his departure from home would be dangerous, but he had forgotten that fact and allowed himself to be absorbed in Naboos beauty, consequently dropping his guard. It wasn`t long.....but long enough for him to end up here.

Sidonis looked ready to go but his muscles were still tender, his bones creaking as he struggled to sit upright on his bed. After sliding on his duster he exited the room. He would seek the one whom saved him from his fate.

 

[Nate Phantoms]

He pushed open the doors, and stepped out into the many multicolored lights, ignoring the tables and bars filled with a mixed assortment of species, all gambling or drinking. Beginning to weave his way through the crowd, he searched for his crew mates in a sea of somewhat unfamiliar faces.

Hopefully at least one of them will be here...​

The lights and pulsating bass were enough make his head throb, but he had said he was going to make an appearance, and it wasn't every day they had a party. This was definitely perfect timing though, after his experiences with all of those ugly spawn bitches, he would need at least a dozen drinks to even come remotely close to forgetting it. His eyes landed on a fellow crew mate, [member="CC-420 Doc"], and saw [member="Bryce Bantam"] as well and made his way over to them. He patted Doc's shoulder before leaning against the bar next to BB.

"Doc, BB, Nice timing. I don't really know what to do with myself though, aside from drink... is there like a mosh-pit or something?"

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

Doc gave [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] friendly acknowledging nod before speaking. "Cards and any other sort of gambling vice you could desire near as I can tell. Don't know about a mosh pit though. Could be fun." He said with a chuckle, continuing to glance about as he spoke. His eye caught a glimpse of [member="3X744"] and the older clone wrote it off as a minor hallucination. No fethin way was there another Fett clone here, at this point the chances off such a meeting would have to be so ridiculous mathematically... Impossible.

"Trippy." He mumbled to no one in particular.

[member="Lydeck"] [member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

BB watched two of his fellow crewman of the Starr enter the sparsely populated establishment. BB had hoped it to be a well deserved break for everyone who had worked so hard to make the Kathol Outback safe. Now with a way to thank all those he had fought with and welcome the new recruits coming in BB spared no expense in this one night event.

"Dancing is upstairs man, not sure if the DJ is spinning yet but I can definitely check for you. Till then lets work on those drinks."

BB motioned to the bartender to come over and handed Nate so he could get his drink on. While Nate was taken care of BB turned to his new crewman.

"Thanks Doc, please man go have fun and enjoy yourself, it's open bar and all the games are no minimum no limit."

[member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] [member="CC-420 Doc"]

 

[Noah Bright]

Noah sat with a luxurious little Twi'lek gal named Saffron on the upper level of the establishment. From their booth near the dance floor, the villainous couple could eat and watch the swoop races with pleasure. Both had money on the game. Both seemed to enjoy the deviation. Just two happy scoundrels making the most of one gray and rusty outback.

Bright let his delightful date sit on his lap. Stroking her fondly as he explained the intricacies of Naboo Politics. Always with one eye on her busty assests and another fondly fixed to the holocam's race. Saffron did her best to make Noah a very happy man. Alas. All the while skillfully patting him down for loose change. She was an excellent con in that way. Switching between loving embraces and a pirates gentle lift. Lucky for Noah. The old Admiral was expecting the con-woman. So his pockets where empty, his gun far away, and his wallet already stashed in his clever droid. She wouldn't find anything in his pants except for what he watched her to find. A welcome deviation from Voss.

Ahhh. Yeah. It was gonna be another purr-fect evening in the Outback. Nice.

 

[Lydeck]

His lavender eyes slowly focused on his dim surroundings, and the Squire filled his lungs with fresh (or somewhat) air. He was unsure where he was but the whispers which usually alarmed him to danger were dormant, and its noise was absent from his mind. A medical droid turned the corner and saw the Kilian outside his temporary quarters, looking as if he were a stranger in a far off land. That wasn`t far from the truth.
Its metallic body mechanically marched down the corridor and shoved Sidonis back into the room in order to complete a final check before his release. He had nothing but questions as the droid probed his body, checked his signs and peeled the wrappings off his face to reveal a freshly formed scar across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. After a few more routine checks the medical droid discharged him.

Sidonis was loosely informed about the details of his rescue, and the state in which he was found on Naboo. The medical droid lifted a small comm unit from its internal compartment and tuned in the necessary frequency, its voice monotone and devoid of emotion "Per instructions, I am confirming that subject #243-B11 has been discharged from our care. Should I relay your location and have him rendevous with you?"

[member="CC-420 Doc"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member=3X744]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The two younglings seemed quite engrossed in their conversation.

It was quite a remarkable feat of social communication. They just kept jumping from topic to topic, frequently interrupting one another or finishing each other sentences, before changing subjects and doing it again. Or even changing subjects several times in the same sentence. A lot of it had to do with holo-games. Probably no surprise there. [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] owned the largest hologame company in the galaxy at the moment.

There was World of Build-a-Bear Knights, which was supposed to have a new expansion on the way. And, they needed it. Level 60 content was totally yesterday. Yesterday's yesterday in fact. Three was getting tired of running the same dungeons over and over, and the daily grind was just annoying after so long. Angry Mynocks was another. Especially Angry Birds: Mandalorian Civil War, which was Three's favorite. The Secret of Mynock Island was out for HoloStation 4, but that was supposed to be Three's birthday present so he hadn't played it yet.

No, he didn't actually have a birthday. He was a clone, but apparently birthdays were very, very important. At least according to Sor-Jan, who'd had sixty-four of them himself. Really, it just seemed like an excuse to eat cake and get a bunch of free stuff. Which, admittedly, sounded like something that Sor-Jan would endorse, or just make up so that he could eat cake.

In any case, they'd made up a birthday for Three. Sor-Jan called it 'a very merry un-birthday' which supposedly had its own song to go with it, from some old book that someone wrote. Like, not even a holo-book. An actual book book. As in, loub-paper and everything! Three wouldn't have believed that such things existed, except SJ had shown him one in a library on Naboo.

Outside of games, the boys had very divergent interests. So it made it difficult to venture very far into other topics. SJ wanted to talk about nerdy stuff, like archaeology and really, really old dead people. Three wanted to talk blasters. And sports was a total non-starter. SJ was into the padawan force-ball leagues and Three was into the professional grav-ball team.

Seriously, the Voss Mystics were playing the Mandalore Mandalorians in the sector championships for the Besk'ar Bowl. Who wasn't watching that?

Plus, Three had bet his allowance on the Mandalorians.

And Sor-Jan's.

...except, he kinda, sorta, had neglected to mention to Sor-Jan that last part.

What was he supposed to do with his allowance? He made 20 credits a week and blew half of it on candy and holo-comics. SJ got an actual paycheck, with dividends and annuities on investments held at Corell Financial. He made like, a hundred times what Three did. Clearly, if they were betting then SJ's allowance was gonna go farther on two-to-one odds than Three's was.

And the real problem about all this? "What happened to our ginger ale?" the young Fett asked, thinking aloud as his head perked up to look around for the waitress. She'd taken their order like, fifty million years ago!

...okay, so it had been five minutes. Three was positive that, somewhere, animals had gone extinct while they waited for refills on soda.

Taking his empty cup and grabbing SJ's from across the table, the small Clone Trooper hopped from out of the booth. Crossing from out of the restaurant to the bar, the copper toned youngling plopped the glasses up on the bar. Standing up on the foot rail, the boy crossed his arms across the bar top as he looked around for a server to get a refill. As he was looking around, the boy looked up to see a man near him.

Then the youngling did a double take.

"Are you a clone!?" Yes, he'd just blurted that out. No, that wasn't an inside voice. No, he hadn't thought about it before he said it. Being a four year old clone meant having absolutely no filter between brain and mouth. But the man looked EXACTLY like a Clone Trooper. Except, SJ told him that the Clone Wars ended a long, long time ago. So Three didn't think there any clones like him left.

So who was this guy that looked just like he did?

...well, that looked just like Three would, when he growed up. Whenever that would be. Since the whole Republic-Empire-trying-to-kill-you thing happened, Three hadn't gotten any of his accelerated growth treatments. So he thought it was going to be a long time before he was grown up. Like, five or ten years from now!

That was a lifetime to a Clone Trooper.

[member="CC-420 Doc"]​

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

"Always do." Doc replied with [member="Bryce Bantam"] through a half chuckle. The clone was relatively adept at finding ways to enjoy himself when vices were readily available. Their seemed to be a slow trickle of folk trickling into the establishment which Doc eyed contently until [member="3X744"] loudly broke his distracted train of thought with a familiar voice that pierced his drug addled shell. Calico's voice. Canal's. His own.

Doc spun towards the source of the voice and stared dumbfounded at what amounted to a reflection of his younger self.

"Yes?" was the only reply he could manage, suddenly more sober than he'd been at any day in the past year.

[member="Lydeck"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The boy took in a sharp breath, awe-struck and marveling at the sight before him.

Eyes anxious, every fiber of his being trembling with the hope that he'd met one of his brothers, and the fear of being disappointed, the boy asked a question that he'd never been any happier to ask. "What's your operating number?"

To anyone overhearing the conversation, it probably seemed like a strange question.

He gotten accustomed to being around people. People as in, not clones. He answered to a 'name' that wasn't his. He had a birthday that wasn't his. Because those were things that people had. Things that people expected YOU to have, and things that people put on you if you didn't. Because they wanted you to be a people person. Because they couldn't understand what it was to be a clone.

"I'm Three-Ex-Seven-Four-Four."

[member="CC-420 Doc"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Where in feth's name was his ginger ale?

The small Anzat sat in a booth by himself. His feet didn't reach the floor, so he'd tucked them in and was seated cross-legged on the bench seat. Across from him was the spot vacated then [member="3X744"] had gone to the bar to get them both drinks. Except it seemed his Clone Trooper was taking longer than anticipated for the task.

Since both occupants of the booth had been younglings, the waitress had dressed the table in a loub-paper tablecloth and brought over some crayons for their amusement. On the Three side of the table, there were rudimentary drawings of Clone Troopers, Clone Wars era battle droids, and explosions. Sor-Jan was demonstrating a little more sophisticated talent, carefully shading in an artistic representation of an Atrisian woman. Were someone passingly familiar with her, they might have recognized the likeness as that of the boy's former padawan, [member="Noriko Ike"].

At some point, Force willing, a Clone Trooper would show up with his ginger ale. And then maybe a waitress with the devil's style nerf steak he'd ordered.

Then they could get back to the business of doing what SJ had come to the Outback to do, which was to get lost.

He'd picked up some rumors of a legendary world in this region. Exo they called it. A Republic general, Na-Coth, had written a fair bit about rumors and folktales that told of the colony, somewhere in the Outer Rim. And some of which hinted toward the Kathol Rift. Expeditions had traveled in search of it, but none had been successful. Of course, no one had been successful in proving that Maligea had been a real historical figure either... until Sor-Jan managed to un-earth a Manassi tomb on Tash-Taral.

It was quite lovely. A black abyss filled with death, pelko bug swarms, and Sith undead.

At least none of the legends about Exo made any mention of Sith, dead or otherwise. If anything, the folktales painted a pastoral picture of paradise.

Utopia, in a region where the nearest planet was weeks away, and the Sith unheard of. To find a place like that... Now that sounded like the sort of damn fool idealistic crusade a Jedi Archaeologist could support!

[member="Lydeck"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"]​