[IC] Star Wars: The New Guard
- Fandom
- Tabletop
- Future
- Fantasy
- Sci-Fi
- GM mickilennial
Join Status:
Apply
GM
mickilennial The Elder Fae
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
The Falling Star was an old ship, a ship that had a certain history to it. It was an old Trade Federation vessel, retrofitted about tenfold since its original service during the onset of the Clone Wars almost three decades ago. But instead of droids, The Falling Star’s cargo was people. People who needed to go about their business, quietly and unassumingly. It was for that reason that the pilots of The Falling Star tried to be as discreet as possible, avoiding the shadow of the Empire and the eyes of the Rebellion.
As a passenger on The Falling Star, you know this all too well.
You find yourself in one of the sections of the ship designated as a commercial and entertainment hub. It smells of dorian quill and old boots, which is probably fitting as most of the denizens among you have not looked at a bath in quite some time. You’re pretty sure the Twi’lek sitting at the bar hasn’t bathed in years.
If you’re sly enough, you can hear whispers of the current news of the day. News you may have heard before. The demise of Emperor Palpatine, the destruction of yet another Death Star, and gossip suggesting that the people of Coruscant are cheering in the name of liberty and of the Rebel Alliance. It could be a bunch of claptrap, but if the Emperor has truly lost his life then it could incite a number of conclusions. Depending on your disposition you might find it optimistic, giving you hope for the future. If you’re a cynic you might think it’ll just escalate things as the power vacuum inspires others to take power where the emperor kept things in line before. Whichever the case, you are out in the Outer Rim, far away from being effected by such things as far as you can tell.
Probably.
You stop at your preferred haunt—the bar to your left, a pazaak or sabaac table to your right, or one of the shady vendors trying to hawk some credits before landfall. Maybe neither of the three locations? Do you prefer to be left alone in a corner as you continue to count the time? Or are you one of the more sociable types? Whichever the case, something feels wrong. You don't know why, but you understand one thing and one thing alone.
You've got a bad feeling about this.
As a passenger on The Falling Star, you know this all too well.
You find yourself in one of the sections of the ship designated as a commercial and entertainment hub. It smells of dorian quill and old boots, which is probably fitting as most of the denizens among you have not looked at a bath in quite some time. You’re pretty sure the Twi’lek sitting at the bar hasn’t bathed in years.
If you’re sly enough, you can hear whispers of the current news of the day. News you may have heard before. The demise of Emperor Palpatine, the destruction of yet another Death Star, and gossip suggesting that the people of Coruscant are cheering in the name of liberty and of the Rebel Alliance. It could be a bunch of claptrap, but if the Emperor has truly lost his life then it could incite a number of conclusions. Depending on your disposition you might find it optimistic, giving you hope for the future. If you’re a cynic you might think it’ll just escalate things as the power vacuum inspires others to take power where the emperor kept things in line before. Whichever the case, you are out in the Outer Rim, far away from being effected by such things as far as you can tell.
Probably.
You stop at your preferred haunt—the bar to your left, a pazaak or sabaac table to your right, or one of the shady vendors trying to hawk some credits before landfall. Maybe neither of the three locations? Do you prefer to be left alone in a corner as you continue to count the time? Or are you one of the more sociable types? Whichever the case, something feels wrong. You don't know why, but you understand one thing and one thing alone.
You've got a bad feeling about this.
1x Like
HokumPocus RATS WE'RE THE RATS WE ARE THE RATS
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
Jarren felt the cold material of the cup meet with his lips and raised an arm to take another sip. It was less like the man was pressing the glass against his face, and more like he was shoving it around and his mouth just happened to be there. Was it normal to feel like everything was going to collapse in on itself and that he had to run away? It was like a sixth sense at this point.
He lost track of how much time it'd been since his very first disappearance, from his home planet after everyone had decided he was a murderer after credits were placed in the right pockets. It had been long enough to where he could get a drink, but short enough that he caught himself slipping from the facade of having it all together. A big part of it was the rush of the galactic trail though. It was honestly hard to believe he'd spent so much of his life moving from office to office, kept satisfied by the increasingly expensive decorative plants and plaques typical of a politician on an upswing. This new life of his was just so much wilder.
"I'll have another," he said, smooth and to the point. These seedy bartenders didn't like it when you put on a show. They had more scars on them than the soldiers back home did, and could smell hesitation a planet away. Jarren didn't mind it one bit. It made the sweet talk a lot more exciting, after all.
He pointed a blue finger at one of the vendors nearby. "Is he seriously trying to pass off that pathetic excuse for a blaster for six-hundred?" The human bartender he was talking to seemed less than pleased that Jarren had picked her as a surprise conversational partner, but he was too many drinks in to care. "You probably couldn't even tickle an ewok with one of those."
He lost track of how much time it'd been since his very first disappearance, from his home planet after everyone had decided he was a murderer after credits were placed in the right pockets. It had been long enough to where he could get a drink, but short enough that he caught himself slipping from the facade of having it all together. A big part of it was the rush of the galactic trail though. It was honestly hard to believe he'd spent so much of his life moving from office to office, kept satisfied by the increasingly expensive decorative plants and plaques typical of a politician on an upswing. This new life of his was just so much wilder.
"I'll have another," he said, smooth and to the point. These seedy bartenders didn't like it when you put on a show. They had more scars on them than the soldiers back home did, and could smell hesitation a planet away. Jarren didn't mind it one bit. It made the sweet talk a lot more exciting, after all.
He pointed a blue finger at one of the vendors nearby. "Is he seriously trying to pass off that pathetic excuse for a blaster for six-hundred?" The human bartender he was talking to seemed less than pleased that Jarren had picked her as a surprise conversational partner, but he was too many drinks in to care. "You probably couldn't even tickle an ewok with one of those."
Supermaxx dumbass
Member
Seen
2 days ago
A beast lumbered into the entertainment hub, ducking underneath the portal's lip to make room for its giant frame. The decrepit freighter's dim glowpanels only partially illuminated the creature, hiding much of it behind long shadows. It hovered by the entrance for a moment, frightfully still as it seemingly mulled over where it should go. Several seconds passed before it plodded its way over to the bar.
Liakurra wandered into the better illuminated part of the hub, shoulders hunched in tired defeat. The Wookiee had surely seen better days: his chestnut fur was slick with off-color grime, dirty bandages were wrapped about his left arm the bandolier harness he wore around his chest was cut and tattered in several places. Beady eyes tracked along the nearest tables, hovering on any that stared until they flinched and looked away.
He stopped at the counter, bringing his trunk-shaped arms down on its surface and resting his weight against them. Signaling the bartender with a grunt, Liakurra called for a drink in his people's trade tongue- it was better known throughout the galaxy than the local dialect he was more familiar with. <"Quarter-pint of Ardees."> It was the strongest thing they had that wouldn't drain his critically low coffers, and anything less than it wouldn't be any different from ordering water.
"I'unno if you can tell, pal, but I don't speak walkin' carpet." The bartender, a mostly hairless human female, gave the Wookiee an incredulous look. "Which one you want, 'xactly?"
Liakurra let out a low growl in frustration, gesturing broadly toward the Jawa Juice dispenser lined up with the others behind her. Thankfully she was able to tell what he meant by that and went to fill up a pint-tall glass of the stuff only for him to bark out at her again.
<"Not that. Too expensive. Quarter-pint.">
The exasperated worker let out a series of expletives as she rounded up all the different cups instead of continuing their little game of charades and let the Wookiee pick out which one he wanted himself. It took twice as long as usual for her to get the drink poured, placed in front of him and paid for, and it was about four times as frustrating.
Once all that was said and done with, Liakurra settled into his resting place and started sipping at the drink, stewing on his latest failed outing and the loss of his datapad. He'd gambled too many credits to get to that world and expected an easy capture. Instead he got stuck in a den full of razor hounds and barely managed to claw his way out before they tore him to shreds. Worse yet, he lost the datapad he'd been documenting his travels on- the whole point of him leaving Kashyyyk to begin with!
Maybe he never should've left. He could be home now, spear-fishing with his clan on the Wawaatt as they built their food stockpile for the winter. He'd been gone for five years now. How big was little Salthata, now, he wondered. Wrrlova would go through her Test of Ascension soon- how would she fare in the Shadowlands? Did she learn well enough without him around?
'Ahhh. There I go, making myself homesick...' Liakurra thought to himself, a low, sad groan passing between his teeth.
Liakurra wandered into the better illuminated part of the hub, shoulders hunched in tired defeat. The Wookiee had surely seen better days: his chestnut fur was slick with off-color grime, dirty bandages were wrapped about his left arm the bandolier harness he wore around his chest was cut and tattered in several places. Beady eyes tracked along the nearest tables, hovering on any that stared until they flinched and looked away.
He stopped at the counter, bringing his trunk-shaped arms down on its surface and resting his weight against them. Signaling the bartender with a grunt, Liakurra called for a drink in his people's trade tongue- it was better known throughout the galaxy than the local dialect he was more familiar with. <"Quarter-pint of Ardees."> It was the strongest thing they had that wouldn't drain his critically low coffers, and anything less than it wouldn't be any different from ordering water.
"I'unno if you can tell, pal, but I don't speak walkin' carpet." The bartender, a mostly hairless human female, gave the Wookiee an incredulous look. "Which one you want, 'xactly?"
Liakurra let out a low growl in frustration, gesturing broadly toward the Jawa Juice dispenser lined up with the others behind her. Thankfully she was able to tell what he meant by that and went to fill up a pint-tall glass of the stuff only for him to bark out at her again.
<"Not that. Too expensive. Quarter-pint.">
The exasperated worker let out a series of expletives as she rounded up all the different cups instead of continuing their little game of charades and let the Wookiee pick out which one he wanted himself. It took twice as long as usual for her to get the drink poured, placed in front of him and paid for, and it was about four times as frustrating.
Once all that was said and done with, Liakurra settled into his resting place and started sipping at the drink, stewing on his latest failed outing and the loss of his datapad. He'd gambled too many credits to get to that world and expected an easy capture. Instead he got stuck in a den full of razor hounds and barely managed to claw his way out before they tore him to shreds. Worse yet, he lost the datapad he'd been documenting his travels on- the whole point of him leaving Kashyyyk to begin with!
Maybe he never should've left. He could be home now, spear-fishing with his clan on the Wawaatt as they built their food stockpile for the winter. He'd been gone for five years now. How big was little Salthata, now, he wondered. Wrrlova would go through her Test of Ascension soon- how would she fare in the Shadowlands? Did she learn well enough without him around?
'Ahhh. There I go, making myself homesick...' Liakurra thought to himself, a low, sad groan passing between his teeth.
Expolar ...just a tortle...
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
In the corner of the bar sat a white and very faint blue twi'lek woman who kept to herself for some time. Her typical attire covered her thin body, especially today as she wore a dark grey cloak and a hood to help try to further cover her appearance, but her pair of lekku still hung out in front of her. Not wanting the attention, she turned away from the rest of the room as she mulled over the death of Devroy, her last employer. The man was quite curious of the empire's secrets which their arrangement to work together to find some answers started as we tried luring and distracting some officials long enough for one of us to find some sort of answer. Although, it should have been expected that our luck would run out as she found dead not too far from where they were suppose to meet last. So making some considerable distance would likely be best as she hoped no one else was trying to follow her.
After some time trying contemplate her thoughts, she felt something did not feel right. Not sure what it could be as she should have brought everything she needed with her and not forgotten to carry something. Feeling frustrated, her thoughts were broken as she heard a odd growling sound by the counter. Once she saw the wookie, she smirked as it made clear sense where the sound came from and felt dumb thinking of what other species in this galaxy it could have been.
What didn't make sense was what sounded like a possible scam of someone trying to sell a blaster for about 600 credits. Hearing the odd deal, her head slightly turned as her dark eyes darted to the pair as she couldn't help but try to have some fun which she hasn't had in awhile. "Nice attempt to sell an overprice blaster to the dorus. Maybe you should try low ball instead and see how that goes." Turning around to the rest of the people in the bar, she rose her hand up and slammed against her table to get some attention. "Hey you all! How much credits you be willing to actually spend for a simple blaster?"
After some time trying contemplate her thoughts, she felt something did not feel right. Not sure what it could be as she should have brought everything she needed with her and not forgotten to carry something. Feeling frustrated, her thoughts were broken as she heard a odd growling sound by the counter. Once she saw the wookie, she smirked as it made clear sense where the sound came from and felt dumb thinking of what other species in this galaxy it could have been.
What didn't make sense was what sounded like a possible scam of someone trying to sell a blaster for about 600 credits. Hearing the odd deal, her head slightly turned as her dark eyes darted to the pair as she couldn't help but try to have some fun which she hasn't had in awhile. "Nice attempt to sell an overprice blaster to the dorus. Maybe you should try low ball instead and see how that goes." Turning around to the rest of the people in the bar, she rose her hand up and slammed against her table to get some attention. "Hey you all! How much credits you be willing to actually spend for a simple blaster?"
ʟ ʏ ᴏ ꜱ
Location: The Falling Star's Cantina
Date: 4 ABY
Though Lyos had known the Twi'lek from previous ventures, she chose to keep to her drink. For all the Codru-Ji cared, whether or not someone was swindling another wasn't her business. As long as it didn't affect her, Lyos couldn't give a Wookie's furry ass as to what Oden Kenspoo did to talk his victims into paying a few more credits than the actual price.
Such would be the case, however, until Oden chose to run his mouth in the wrong place. Perhaps the rumors were true, that Oden had murdered one of his own "customers", but to suggest to sell another into slavery? Though the Codru-Ji, especially Lyos, were not the humanitarian type, she disliked thugs who wanted to pick on the little guy—those that couldn't really defend themselves from the ruffians that preferred an easy target.
"She's not for sale." Lyos quipped, standing from her seat. She then approached Oden, pushing a finger into his chest whilst one of her four arms slipped to her hip, hoping to draw one of her blasters without the crook noticing. "And you know what? I don't like your cocky attitude. Though, I guess you have to make up for lacking down beneath the belt, right?"
Lyos smirked, certain that she had pushed a few buttons.
Such would be the case, however, until Oden chose to run his mouth in the wrong place. Perhaps the rumors were true, that Oden had murdered one of his own "customers", but to suggest to sell another into slavery? Though the Codru-Ji, especially Lyos, were not the humanitarian type, she disliked thugs who wanted to pick on the little guy—those that couldn't really defend themselves from the ruffians that preferred an easy target.
"She's not for sale." Lyos quipped, standing from her seat. She then approached Oden, pushing a finger into his chest whilst one of her four arms slipped to her hip, hoping to draw one of her blasters without the crook noticing. "And you know what? I don't like your cocky attitude. Though, I guess you have to make up for lacking down beneath the belt, right?"
Lyos smirked, certain that she had pushed a few buttons.
*Should her silent draw be successful, Lyos will point it towards his manhood, ready to fire at a moment's notice
webboysurf Live, Laugh, Love
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Travelling the galaxy was not as lavish as he had been led to believe. This transport ship had a strange smell to it, and the lack of natural light from his home planet's twin suns was making sleep difficult. To say that he disliked his time aboard the Falling Star was an understatement. He was stir crazy. He could gamble away his measly sum of credits, drink them away, or trade them in for overpriced trinkets that he didn't need. Without a job, Ralto felt like he was losing his mind.
Fed up with polishing his E-11 blaster rifle for the fourth time that day, Ralto had tossed the blaster's strap over his shoulder and began pushing his way towards the bar. He entered the busy room and let his eyes pass over the scene that unfolded. He simply stood in the entryway of the area as he watched a few people stand out from the crowd. In particular, a blue twi'lek and a... well, something with four arms the Zabrak had never seen before were hounding and berating some merchant. The Zabrak gave a smile and shook his head as he sauntered up to the bar proper, setting his blaster rifle on the counter directly in front of him as he took a seat and waved his right hand towards the bartender.
The woman looked over towards the Zabrak and gave a slight sigh, walking over and raising an eyebrow. "Whadda ya want?"
Ralto looked towards the other patrons of the small bar, and settled on a cup held in the grip of a rather sizable Wookie. He recognized the liquor well, as it was one of the only things Valerian let him drink if he did his job well. "I'll have what the Wookie's havin'."
The bartender turned, looked in the direction of Liakurra, and let out a short and exasperated sigh as she was reminded of the ordeal. Luckily, the memory was burned into her short-term memory and she slowly poured out the drink to where the Wookie had requested, before setting the bottle down. "Anythin' else?"
The Zabrak tapped his fingers on the bar top for a second before finally nodding."Well... I was actually wonderin' where... well..." He turned his gaze down towards the blaster rifle, before turning his gaze back up to the unimpressed gaze of the bartender. "Someone like me could find some work around these parts."
The bartender narrowed her eyes for a moment in disbelief, before turning to look at the rest of the bar and motioning towards the rest of the ship as a whole. "Well, the only work 'round these parts, sir, is moving some crates or cleaning. Ya know, the kind of work you might expect on a transport ship. I'm sure if you stop any of the crew I'm sure they would love to pay for a drink or two if ya want to ease the load."
Ralto opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Not like it mattered, as the bartender had turned her back to the Zabrak and was already working to refill the drink of a Sullustan in the corner. This left Ralto alone with his drink as he simply tightened his jaw and starred up at the ceiling for a moment. This was not turning out as he had hoped.
Fed up with polishing his E-11 blaster rifle for the fourth time that day, Ralto had tossed the blaster's strap over his shoulder and began pushing his way towards the bar. He entered the busy room and let his eyes pass over the scene that unfolded. He simply stood in the entryway of the area as he watched a few people stand out from the crowd. In particular, a blue twi'lek and a... well, something with four arms the Zabrak had never seen before were hounding and berating some merchant. The Zabrak gave a smile and shook his head as he sauntered up to the bar proper, setting his blaster rifle on the counter directly in front of him as he took a seat and waved his right hand towards the bartender.
The woman looked over towards the Zabrak and gave a slight sigh, walking over and raising an eyebrow. "Whadda ya want?"
Ralto looked towards the other patrons of the small bar, and settled on a cup held in the grip of a rather sizable Wookie. He recognized the liquor well, as it was one of the only things Valerian let him drink if he did his job well. "I'll have what the Wookie's havin'."
The bartender turned, looked in the direction of Liakurra, and let out a short and exasperated sigh as she was reminded of the ordeal. Luckily, the memory was burned into her short-term memory and she slowly poured out the drink to where the Wookie had requested, before setting the bottle down. "Anythin' else?"
The Zabrak tapped his fingers on the bar top for a second before finally nodding."Well... I was actually wonderin' where... well..." He turned his gaze down towards the blaster rifle, before turning his gaze back up to the unimpressed gaze of the bartender. "Someone like me could find some work around these parts."
The bartender narrowed her eyes for a moment in disbelief, before turning to look at the rest of the bar and motioning towards the rest of the ship as a whole. "Well, the only work 'round these parts, sir, is moving some crates or cleaning. Ya know, the kind of work you might expect on a transport ship. I'm sure if you stop any of the crew I'm sure they would love to pay for a drink or two if ya want to ease the load."
Ralto opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Not like it mattered, as the bartender had turned her back to the Zabrak and was already working to refill the drink of a Sullustan in the corner. This left Ralto alone with his drink as he simply tightened his jaw and starred up at the ceiling for a moment. This was not turning out as he had hoped.
HokumPocus RATS WE'RE THE RATS WE ARE THE RATS
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
Jarren chuckled to himself in between sips, content that he wasn't the only person having a laugh at that idiot salesman. The old him would have dismissed the ruckus as entertainment for the dregs of society, but now that he was front and center of it all the man could see how far it beat posh cantinas and their grating music selection. This new Jarren carefully listened to his surroundings and hoped a fight broke out.
"Well, the only work 'round these parts, sir, is moving some crates or cleaning. Ya know, the kind of work you might expect on a transport ship. I'm sure if you stop any of the crew I'm sure they would love to pay for a drink or two if ya want to ease the load."
"Shiiiiiiit."
It was meant to be a whisper, but through the power of alcohol it wheezed out of him and into someone else's conversation. Finding some busywork had been on the back of his mind ever since he first boarded the ship and realized that he was running low on credits.
He always hated having to hunt down leads. It was the one thing all those stories about intergalactic scoundrels never told you, the slow and arduous process of trying to find someone to vaguely trust you enough to get your hands filthy. The whole thing reminded him a little too much of the job interviews at his former planet for his comfort. Whoever this plucky looking guy was, though, had asked what had been sloshing around on his mind.
Only to be pointed in the direction of soulless manual labor.
So much for not wanting to swallow my pride.
His red eyes tilted up at the bartender. "Moving boxes? Are you sure there isn't aaanything else?" He gazed into her with a charismatic gaze, or at least tried to. He couldn't really tell how a sober person saw him as.
"Well, the only work 'round these parts, sir, is moving some crates or cleaning. Ya know, the kind of work you might expect on a transport ship. I'm sure if you stop any of the crew I'm sure they would love to pay for a drink or two if ya want to ease the load."
"Shiiiiiiit."
It was meant to be a whisper, but through the power of alcohol it wheezed out of him and into someone else's conversation. Finding some busywork had been on the back of his mind ever since he first boarded the ship and realized that he was running low on credits.
He always hated having to hunt down leads. It was the one thing all those stories about intergalactic scoundrels never told you, the slow and arduous process of trying to find someone to vaguely trust you enough to get your hands filthy. The whole thing reminded him a little too much of the job interviews at his former planet for his comfort. Whoever this plucky looking guy was, though, had asked what had been sloshing around on his mind.
Only to be pointed in the direction of soulless manual labor.
So much for not wanting to swallow my pride.
His red eyes tilted up at the bartender. "Moving boxes? Are you sure there isn't aaanything else?" He gazed into her with a charismatic gaze, or at least tried to. He couldn't really tell how a sober person saw him as.
GM
mickilennial The Elder Fae
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
“Blasted punks.”
Oden Kenspoo’s words spat out underneath gritted teeth. His eye moved back to the Codru-Ji with annoyance, his hands slowly moving up. His expression turned into a forced smirk. He knew the people around him were not going to jump to his defense given another gunfight. At least, not while his supposed guards were off taking a leak.
“Let’s all calm down here. Just take the twi’lek and move away from my goods. Nobody is selling anybody, just like nobody is getting us both thrown out of an airlock, right?”
As the scene unfolded, the bartender looked toward the Duros and the other patrons, as if the scene only a little distance away was about to devolve into another firefight. It was a curious thing and they had certainly seen Kenspoo’s ways cross the wrong people at the exactly wrong time. It was only a surprise he was still alive. But there was a reason for that. As Jarren asked them a follow-up question about work aboard The Falling Star, they ran one of their hands against their lips.
“I mean, maybe when we’ve landed planet-side things will change. I mean, what kind of work are you lot looking for?”
They eyed Kenspoo. “I can throw you each a few credits if you make sure Kenspoo and that girl don’t start a firefight. Not great for business. Last time a firefight happened every vendor on board got fined for it by the captain. I’d like that not to happen again.”
Oden Kenspoo’s words spat out underneath gritted teeth. His eye moved back to the Codru-Ji with annoyance, his hands slowly moving up. His expression turned into a forced smirk. He knew the people around him were not going to jump to his defense given another gunfight. At least, not while his supposed guards were off taking a leak.
“Let’s all calm down here. Just take the twi’lek and move away from my goods. Nobody is selling anybody, just like nobody is getting us both thrown out of an airlock, right?”
As the scene unfolded, the bartender looked toward the Duros and the other patrons, as if the scene only a little distance away was about to devolve into another firefight. It was a curious thing and they had certainly seen Kenspoo’s ways cross the wrong people at the exactly wrong time. It was only a surprise he was still alive. But there was a reason for that. As Jarren asked them a follow-up question about work aboard The Falling Star, they ran one of their hands against their lips.
“I mean, maybe when we’ve landed planet-side things will change. I mean, what kind of work are you lot looking for?”
They eyed Kenspoo. “I can throw you each a few credits if you make sure Kenspoo and that girl don’t start a firefight. Not great for business. Last time a firefight happened every vendor on board got fined for it by the captain. I’d like that not to happen again.”
Supermaxx dumbass
Member
Seen
2 days ago
The usual suspects were stirring up trouble at the end of a bar. Liakurra didn't know what started it- he'd heard some commotion about an overpriced blaster or some other such nonsense. Wasn't anything out of the ordinary in a muck-slathered junker like this. What did catch his ear was some of the barbs tossed by those arguing.
"I bet my friends would pay a lot more for a twi’lek slave!" A man the 'tender called Kenspoo shouted at the hooded woman that had stepped up to him.
Grotesque words tossed about with little care by a man too small to be talking like that. Someone else stepped forward to trade words with him- some heavily four-armed rival that was quick to badmouth back, by the sounds of it. All three involved looked to be either armed or near enough to a weapon to cause trouble, and the Wookiee wasn't the only one that noticed. The bartender was offering credits to a scoundrel and a rat if they'd intervene to stop the argument from escalating to violence.
The Wookiee warrior didn't need any more of an excuse than that, and he rose to his feet with a growl in his throat and anger in his eyes. He trudged with weighty steps toward Oden Kenspoo, the Twi'lek and the four-armed, fast talking alien, arms wagging at his sides on approach. He towered over the tallest of the lot and weighed twice as much, and anyone with a passing knowledge of his species knew most of that wasn't fur or fat. All eyes near the stall gravitated toward him.
Oden looked nervous as he approached, and it only got worse when the beast leaned in close.
<"Little man thinks he's funny."> He spoke in something akin to a growled chortle. <"Wonder how funny he'd be without arms to sell with."> Liakurra reached up to pat Oden's shoulders, not-so-subtly alluding to a certain, well substantiated rumor about his species' pertinacity for limb removal.
After a few, quite moments passed, Liakurra instead reached down to grab the blaster pistol Kenspoo had been hawking. It was a piece of junk by all accounts- everyone in that room was carrying better heat than this. Still, it was the principle of the thing that mattered to the young warrior. <"Bartender says she doesn't want you starting any shootouts, so I'll be...confiscating this. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, here, eh?">
The Wookiee's intimidating presence and hand on the blaster was all he needed to do to escalate the situation in his favor, and Oden quickly realized he’d be getting no credits for his wares. After a moment's hesitation, he begrudgingly sighed, “Fine. Take it. It’s free! I don’t have the blasted time for this. Just take the blaster and the girl and leave me alone.”
Liakurra nodded and took the pistol, satisfied by the situation's outcome. He turned around and motioned for the other two to step away from the humiliated vendor's stall, holding the junker weapon in both his paws, clearly unsure what to do with the thing now that he had it.
webboysurf Live, Laugh, Love
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Ralto gave a sly grin at the bartender's request. Credits were credits, and the Zabrak would be happy to run some honest security. Would be the first time he tried stopping the dropping of bodies, though. With a quick and fluid motion, he knocked back his drink and stood up from his barstool, only to notice the Wookie similarly standing up and turning his attention to the scene developing. Ralto gave a curt smile as he sauntered alongside the walking carpet.
As the Wookie started growling, Ralto jumped in with his loose translating, a sly smile spread across his lips. "The bartender's friend here is wondering how difficult it would be to sell your shitty blaster without arms." This was punctuated, of course, by the Wookie's own gesture, at which Ralto's sadistic smile widened.
As the Wookie's grip tightened around the blaster in Oden's hand, Ralto gave a nod and cut in immediately after the Wookie's speech. "We're just making sure no one gets hurt here. Best we take that for now." Once the merchant relented and the Wookie turned back towards the bar, Ralto stayed a moment to look towards the other two instigating the conflict. "Best settle down. You really don't want to anger my partner here."
With that final threat, Ralto strutted over to the Wookie to give a nod. "Name's Ralto, and you did some good work back there. We make a hell of a team." Of course, the former debt collector eyed up the junk blaster and raised an eyebrow. It may be junk, but it certainly seemed functional enough. "I can hold on to that if you don't want it, mate. Keep it safe and out of the hands of those folks."
As the Wookie started growling, Ralto jumped in with his loose translating, a sly smile spread across his lips. "The bartender's friend here is wondering how difficult it would be to sell your shitty blaster without arms." This was punctuated, of course, by the Wookie's own gesture, at which Ralto's sadistic smile widened.
As the Wookie's grip tightened around the blaster in Oden's hand, Ralto gave a nod and cut in immediately after the Wookie's speech. "We're just making sure no one gets hurt here. Best we take that for now." Once the merchant relented and the Wookie turned back towards the bar, Ralto stayed a moment to look towards the other two instigating the conflict. "Best settle down. You really don't want to anger my partner here."
With that final threat, Ralto strutted over to the Wookie to give a nod. "Name's Ralto, and you did some good work back there. We make a hell of a team." Of course, the former debt collector eyed up the junk blaster and raised an eyebrow. It may be junk, but it certainly seemed functional enough. "I can hold on to that if you don't want it, mate. Keep it safe and out of the hands of those folks."
1x Thank
Expolar ...just a tortle...
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
With the familiar Codru-Ji stepping in with her response, Yinzeli also gave a smirk as she looked to her remark. "Glad to hear that someone else agrees. With Additional facts too!" She tried to hold back a chuggle as her attention returned back to vendor. But now there appeared to be a wookie that approached with his translator to prevent any thing more dire from happening. The vendor begrudgingly agreed to hand over his blaster, Yinzeli looked to the Codru-Ji and motioned her head over to the two that ended what could of been someone being blasted. The twi'lek left her seat and made her way towards the bar where the two sat.
With the mention of those folks, the very light blue twi'lek just sat next to the two, on the wookiee's side. "Well hi there, that man not only gave his blaster to you, but also the conversation that we had. Oh, but I'm not asking for the blaster by any means, I simply felt like stepping in what was clearly a unfair deal. But seeing as that vendor could have escalated things without your intervention, I wish to thank you two, along with my Codru-Ji friend for trying to be on my side." Yinzeli looked to the bartender and gave a apolgitic nod. "My apoligizes for starting something that could have been bad for your business." Then looking back to the two, "And to go along with such courtesy, you may call me Yinzeli".
Now, her attention being drawn to the wookie So, I have heard stories, but could never tell if they were true or exaggerations, but could your people truly tear a arm off." She says as her curious mind has her hand lifted up to reach out to feel what is hidden within the matted coat of hair, only to stop once lifted, giving looks between the wookie and zabrak. "That is, if it is okay if I felt how much muscle your friend really packs. Wouldn't want to loose my arm if this shaggy coat fellow is too sensitive of his space."
With the mention of those folks, the very light blue twi'lek just sat next to the two, on the wookiee's side. "Well hi there, that man not only gave his blaster to you, but also the conversation that we had. Oh, but I'm not asking for the blaster by any means, I simply felt like stepping in what was clearly a unfair deal. But seeing as that vendor could have escalated things without your intervention, I wish to thank you two, along with my Codru-Ji friend for trying to be on my side." Yinzeli looked to the bartender and gave a apolgitic nod. "My apoligizes for starting something that could have been bad for your business." Then looking back to the two, "And to go along with such courtesy, you may call me Yinzeli".
Now, her attention being drawn to the wookie So, I have heard stories, but could never tell if they were true or exaggerations, but could your people truly tear a arm off." She says as her curious mind has her hand lifted up to reach out to feel what is hidden within the matted coat of hair, only to stop once lifted, giving looks between the wookie and zabrak. "That is, if it is okay if I felt how much muscle your friend really packs. Wouldn't want to loose my arm if this shaggy coat fellow is too sensitive of his space."
1x Like
ʟ ʏ ᴏ ꜱ
Location: The Falling Star's Cantina
Date: 4 ABY
Lyos couldn't help but to feel disappointed that Oden chose not to play ball, instead being rather intimidated by the Wookiee that appeared to be demanding the gun from him. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you." She replied, holstering her blaster as she followed the Twilek towards where the Wookie and Zabrak had been previously sitting.
"You know, Yinzeli; one day that curiosity is going to get the better of you. Curiosity kills the Tooka, or so they say." Lyos remarked, taking a seat at the bar and crossing the upper pair of her four arms. "Though, I should ask—what brings you this part of space? I figured someone like you would be out causing trouble for the Empire or something, and yet, here you are with us sorry space-drifters, thugs and ruffians."
Whilst Lyos waited for Yinzeli's answer, she turned in her chair to face the counter. "Bespin Fizz. On ice." She ordered, sliding a few credit chips across to the human bartender.
"You know, Yinzeli; one day that curiosity is going to get the better of you. Curiosity kills the Tooka, or so they say." Lyos remarked, taking a seat at the bar and crossing the upper pair of her four arms. "Though, I should ask—what brings you this part of space? I figured someone like you would be out causing trouble for the Empire or something, and yet, here you are with us sorry space-drifters, thugs and ruffians."
Whilst Lyos waited for Yinzeli's answer, she turned in her chair to face the counter. "Bespin Fizz. On ice." She ordered, sliding a few credit chips across to the human bartender.
HokumPocus RATS WE'RE THE RATS WE ARE THE RATS
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
Jarren inched towards the Wookie in the distance, his legs threatening to buckle under the burden of the man's full weight during the the initial effects of alcohol. The scene around him looked like a grimy kaleidoscope of alien life forms, the majority of wich were preoccupied with muttering amongst themselves or playing cards to pay the man any attention. The whole ordeal felt like wading through a swamp, not that he actually knew what that was like. Swamps were for the poor. He took a good look around him and tried not to think about if he currently qualified for that classification.
He stroked the outline of his head the same way a human might have brushed their hair to the side. He'd have to approach the merchant and grease him up good. Something soothing and gentle, the kind of pizzazz that let people know he was the sort of politician that kissed babies on the forehead. Or maybe a direct approach, something firm and brash, yet charismatic.
He used a human man's shoulder as a support. "Excuse me." He trudged onward without so much as making eye contact.
Jarren wanted to crack a smile at seeing the merchant, but it deflated before even being deployed halfway at the sight of a wookie and another human giving him a warning. His one shot at making easy credits that didn't involve actually having to perform physical activity, gone before his eyes. He picked up the pace, almost crashing into them.
"What gives, f-"
Furball.The word materialized in his mind, followed by memories of years worth of interspecies appreciation seminars, and the backlash that tended to happen to anyone caught getting handsy with a tentacle or creative with nicknames. He'd made close calls in the past with his career, ones that usually involved throwing credits at someone or bringing up their mortality enough for them to get the hint. But he was supposed to be making credits, not losing them, and a good eight tenths of the ship's vagrants looked like they could kick his ass, the walking carpet definitely included.
"..friend." A wide smile that had been on advertisements and interviews tightened around his face, as he snapped into a casual and friendly posture almost instantly. "Well, I'm glad we were all on the same page there. I could've sworn we were about to run into a murky situation."
He stroked the outline of his head the same way a human might have brushed their hair to the side. He'd have to approach the merchant and grease him up good. Something soothing and gentle, the kind of pizzazz that let people know he was the sort of politician that kissed babies on the forehead. Or maybe a direct approach, something firm and brash, yet charismatic.
He used a human man's shoulder as a support. "Excuse me." He trudged onward without so much as making eye contact.
Jarren wanted to crack a smile at seeing the merchant, but it deflated before even being deployed halfway at the sight of a wookie and another human giving him a warning. His one shot at making easy credits that didn't involve actually having to perform physical activity, gone before his eyes. He picked up the pace, almost crashing into them.
"What gives, f-"
Furball.The word materialized in his mind, followed by memories of years worth of interspecies appreciation seminars, and the backlash that tended to happen to anyone caught getting handsy with a tentacle or creative with nicknames. He'd made close calls in the past with his career, ones that usually involved throwing credits at someone or bringing up their mortality enough for them to get the hint. But he was supposed to be making credits, not losing them, and a good eight tenths of the ship's vagrants looked like they could kick his ass, the walking carpet definitely included.
"..friend." A wide smile that had been on advertisements and interviews tightened around his face, as he snapped into a casual and friendly posture almost instantly. "Well, I'm glad we were all on the same page there. I could've sworn we were about to run into a murky situation."
© 2007-2024