Private Wasting Away in Margaritaville

[Delila Castillon]

[[ Alleycat ]] [[ Ceto, Capital City of Sobek, South Beaches ]]
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Delila didn't expect to be assaulted by heat and humidity right away. The moment she had stepped outside the climate controlled interior hangar spaces it had hit her like a wall, causing a bit of a grumble to escape her. It wasn't the planets fault, Dells had been used to sticking it out in space and this was the exact opposite : hot, humid, and sunny. Blue-green eyes squinted against the brightness and she stopped to dig around in her rucksack, pulling out a pair of sunglasses to cut the glare. Better.

Deposited here after picking up and odd job, Delila was going to go down her typical routine when arriving somewhere new, even when she traveled with a crew. Survey the area, find some locals, catch up on galactic news, then find another job. If she timed it right it never took longer than a day or two unless the local economy was just horrible. Judging from what she currently saw the economy certainly wasn't a problem : large islands dotted with clean, bright cities and villages. Even if there was no shady underbelly on the planet plenty of legitimate work was typically easy enough to nab - shipping companies always needed an extra hand.

Looking horribly out of place compared to the locals and throngs of tourists, the redhead needed to stretch her legs in the interim. Lined pedestrian streets ran along the shore and thought it best to start there, appearing as if it went around the perimeter of the island. Dells had been walking scarcely fifteen minutes when she came upon an advertisement on the side of a rubbish can for Hutch's Bar & Grill, Best Nerf Steaks on Planet . At the corner, the visage of one Dirks Hutchinson was near the address. The Dirks Hutchinson, former Rebel Alliance hotshot pilot and one-time fellow special forces member. Owned a bar and grill. It looked like one of those celebrity-owned places, you know, where holodrama stars stuck their name on a restaurant in silent partnership.

Delila had to visit. From what she could tell it was a thirty minute walk. Well worth it.

It didn't take thirty minutes to arrive, it took nearly an hour. Dells had gotten mixed up and went into the city instead of veering off on some type of boardwalk that jutted into the deep blue ocean. An upscale tourist trap and general nightlife area by the look of it. She was actually impressed that Dirks had pulled something off like this. Or licensed the use of his name and image - either way fairly smart move in her book.

Approaching the hostess booth, now was the time to find out if the infamous Rebel was at the seaside bar and grill.

"Is Dirks Hutchinson in? If so I'd like to speak to him."

 

[Alleycat]

Hutch's Bar & Grill
South Beach Pier #27, Sobek, Ceto

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"Hello. Welcome to Hutch's Bar & Grill. How many in your party today and would you prefer to have inside, outside, or roof deck seating?" the hostess asked in a friendly manner as a new patron walked up to her booth.

"Is Dirks Hutchinson in? If so I'd like to speak to him."

That question made the young Cetoan pause a moment. This woman didn't seem to be a salesperson type nor one of Dirks' typical groupies. In fact, the redhead looked as if she'd just gotten off a long haul and put away wet. The college-age girl pushed any lingering bad-natured thoughts away and fixed a warm smile back on her face because good customer service was a big deal with the boss.

"I see. Well, let me check for you if Mister Hutchinson is available. Why don't you go ahead on in and take a seat at the bar," she said, gesturing with her hand to the location within the two-story establishment.

As soon as the woman had moved to the bar area, she slipped back into the kitchen where her boss was helping get orders out.

"Hutch... There's a redhaired lady seated at the bar asking for you. Are you in trouble because she looks as if she's ready to serve you?"

"Me? Naw... I don't recall being that bad as of late," the Rendili smirked with a little chuckle as he garnished a surf and turf platter. "I'll go see what she wants when I'm finished here. Thanks, Nadalia,"

____​

Dirks removed the white half-apron he was wearing so as not to get his clothes stained while doing food prep. Before pushing the kitchen door open, he peered through the oval window towards the bar... Hutch couldn't believe who was in his restaurant?! How long had it been since he'd had any interaction with ol' Red? Too long, or just maybe not long enough... Their last encounter had a bit of an abrupt ending if he remembered correctly. Anyhoo, it was good to see a friend from the old days.

"My, my...If it isn't Delila Castillon ," the tall, dark, and handsome greeted, flashing his signature smile as he strolled up to the barstool where Dells was seated. "It's good to see you again. To what do I owe this honor? You haven't given up soldiering to become a food critic now have you?" he added with a wink.

 

[Delila Castillon]

[[ Alleycat ]]


Being placed at the bar by the hostess, Delila was already getting the impression the girl didn't quite trust her intentions. Of course anyone with half of a brain should have been skeptical of her presence. Most were in quite different attire than herself - shorts, sandals, sundresses and the like, typical colorful tropical attire in her opinion. Yet she stuck out like a sore thumb in the typical breeches, boots, white-button up and nerf leather jacket look that was incredibly popular among spacers that pushed along the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions.

To occupy her time she picked up a drink menu, glancing over some of the names given. Ceto Cyclone. Drunken Sailor. Sand in the Crack. Shipwreck. Hammock Hanger. Her eyes managed to roll a bit at the double entendre at that one. Mind drifted from the drinks, setting down the menu to the young hostess, wondering if the authorities had been called. It wouldn't be surprising.

Her back was towards the kitchen of the establishment, foot resting on the rail at the bar and taking in the sights, not noticing Dirks until he strolled right up next to where she was seated. Eyebrow raised slightly at his attire - Dirks was always a pretty boy in her opinion - complete with the apron around his waist. She was used to seeing soldier Dirks and this was a stark change, not horrible just different. Almost like a completely other person.

Delila stood up in greeting with a chuckle.

"Great to see you again as well. I'm afraid I would be a horrific food critic, too many years of prepacked military food and gallons of questionable caf. Anything tastes great at this point." Hand gestured up and down at his form. "Look at you, fancy restaurant owner. When I saw the advertisement I couldn't believe it and had to come down to see with my own old eyes."