Your Average Bar (No fighting)

[Vir'anax'sath]

Nar Shadaa
Your Average Bar
2000 hours

Mirta had just got done hunting a bothan double agent, and a particularly exhausting one at that. Now, it was time to relax. Even if said relaxing was done in a slimy sesspool of scum and villainy. But a drink was a drink, no matter how watered down said drink may be. And so our Mandalorian merc begins on her quest for a drink...

Mirta walked through the acidic rain of Nar Shadaa, on creaking floor boards which were the only thing standing between her and a rather nasty drop. Sighing, she pulled the cloak tighter around her. As the rain pounded against her back, slowly eating through the cloak, she stepped into the seedy cantina. She immediately shed the cloak, revealing her black skin tight bodysuit. There were two small slug throwers tucked into her boots, out of sight. Mirta strode up to the bar counter and sat down, ordering a corellian ale. What a run down place..

 

[Lupe Baracka]

( Narrative in a Rod Sterling voice):
Why was Lupe here? The arm pit of the galaxy, the sweat stain of the dimension he resided in. The tale is too episodic to depict such reasoning. Lupe sat and ordered a drink,

" Whatever's cheap."

But there she was. Clothing, invented into creation to fortify and conceal the bodies details, now amplified all sex appeal. Lupe being a man of circumstance and self instilled morals, despite the distortion to his character and the erosion of his Jedi motif, stared without remorse.

" How's the night treating you toot's?

[member="Mirta Krayt"]

 

[Grimm]

What can one do? Today was just another day for himself, as he was trying to sell some of his older models to lower scum people. He was dealing with some gangs on Nar Shadaa in one of there shanty bars. What can he say? He was wearing well-made Mandalorian armor with a crest of the Garon clan of Mando'ade. Why? Because they were known as the hell troopers of battle and they should know better to double-cross him. Plus he liked to be known sometimes, while hiding his other alignment hidden from many but he was a rather nice guy.

He walked into the bar, speaking with the low lives in the back of the room. He didn't really care for anyone else, as placed his back against the wall. Just to be on the safe side, his mask over his face and starring at the thugs.

"So you wish to purchase some of my craft's?"

"Yes, it's for a deal going down?"

"What type of deal?"

It was all they said, before they decided to speak in hush tones from others ears.

[member="Mirta Krayt"]

[member="Lupe Baracka"]

 

[Lupe Baracka]

(Make sure ya'll do the voice):

Lupe held a reputable position, but with a persona eclipse it was often blocked by his incompatible willingness to do minor deeds during his hour of leisure.

" Hey you over there!" He called back over his shoulder before he took a sip.

"I don't want to have to break out my piece to save your sorry self, this isn't a place of fair trade.'

Lupe quickly figured out the best way to compress the workload in his occupation, is to make people think about their actions.