HHShetland

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

I'm afraid not, for I've decided to leave the site. Don't think I'm cut out for RPing. In other words, I'm dropping out.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

Say, @HHShetland, do you think you're going to have Dyno end up stopping by Tir's place in your next one? I need to figure out what I intend to do with her at the moment.

@EliteCommander

My next post wasn't going to involve Dyno at all, unfortunately. That is, back when I wasn't sidetracked by video games. I think I've reached that phase of RP progression where posting slows down significantly. Happens every time.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

Gots a new character incoming.

Quekk Daretaker

Name - Quekk Daretaker
Species - Nosaurian
Gender - Male
Age - 48
Occupation - Sergeant-at-Arms for the Electric Dinkos SC.

Appearance:

His 'bill' is a bit more elongated, though. His scales are a pale goldish colour, and he has an assortment of scars from his past as a slave. The most noticeable is a deep medical scar on his throat, along with all his right horns being broken, and, curiously, has this emblem branded on the right side of his bill.

Apparel - As is to be expected, the centrepiece of his attire is his Leather Swooper Vest; black with an orange-and-yellow stripe wrapping diagonally around it. On the back is the Skull of an electrified Dinko, with the words 'ELECTRIC DINKOS SC [1%]' above it, and '3030' below. He also has patches on the front reading 'SGT-AT-ARMS', 'LISTENER' and 'FREE MAN', along with a CIS logo patch.

As for the rest of his outfit, he also wears a dark hooded jacket underneath his vest, and a pair of baggy Urban camo trousers. Nothing on his feet, though. He also wears what resembles a heavy-duty pair of ski goggles when he's riding.
Weapons - A pair of short VibroBlades with red bandages wrapped around the hilts, along with the Slugthrower equivalent of the ACP Repeater Gun (basically a Micro-SMG). The Dinkos as a whole tend to favour traditional Projectile weapons.
Equipment - Like everyone in the Dinkos, he has his own custom Swoop Bike; in his case, a Mobquet Flare-S (as recommended to him by Odasska, who also has one), painted all-black with the emblem branded on his bill painted on the side, as if to re-appropriate the symbol as a badge of honour.

Skills - He can give you a list. Literally.
-Running
-Riding Swoops
-Acrobatics
-Melee Combat, Especially With Swords
-Random Domestic Tasks
In short, he's a very quick, agile, nimble fighter who's at his best at melee range, and excels at closing the distance, be it on foot or in a vehicle of some kind. His reflexes are top-notch.

Like all Nosaurians, he also possesses the ability to light up the inside of his mouth. He did a pretty good job of hiding that from his old slave-masters.
Flaws - Practically speaking, he has many. First and foremost, he is literally incapable of speech thanks to an invasive operation that 'messed up' his larynx. In fact, he can't even yell. The most he can do is weakly gasp. His skillset is also quite limited; that list up there is pretty much everything he's good at, and nothing else. You don't come to him for anything requiring in-depth technical knowledge, or any form of diplomacy.

Personality - Thanks to Quekk's past in slavery, coupled with his inability to speak, he generally prefers to keep a low profile, and let his actions speak for themselves. He is very loyal to the Dinkos (and especially President Odasska, having sworn a life-debt to her) and to their code of conduct, which entails the discouragement of gratuitous violence and helping out the oppressed aliens who can't help themselves. His own sense of justice is possibly even greater than most of the club, however; he only tolerates the activities of the gangs begrudgingly, and if he had his way, he'd go on a campaign to free every slave of Gorro's in the city. Only thing that stops him is Odasska, who knows that doing such things would spell the Club's doom.

This does have a dark side, however, as his past in slavery has also made him extremely vengeful and prone to holding grudges for unreasonable amounts of time. Thankfully, he only tends to reveal his inner rage, suitably enough, in combat. This also leads him to be highly distrustful of humans due to his past mistreatment at their hands; he tends to assume the worst of every human he comes across, and even when they're being helpful, he'd need convincing before he stops thinking they have some kind of hidden agenda.
Goals - Repay his debt of gratitude to his new friends, preferably until death.

Backstory - Quekk's memory of his early life is hazy and inconsistent, clouded by all the horrors that came later. He doesn't remember his childhood at all, beyond the fact that he grew up on the Nosaurian home planet of New Plympto. He vaguely remembers his family harbouring and aiding members of the Confederacy during the Clone Wars, for reasons he presumes are to do with freedom fighting.

At some point, his home village was attacked and burnt down by Clone Troopers. He escaped into the wilderness, but was captured by pirates who had been lying in wait, hoping to take advantage of the Republic attack. He was sent off to Hutt Space and sold into slavery to some human noble; he forgets his name. The noble's slave-masters called him 'Quekk Daretaker'; 'Quekk' for no reason beyond personally thinking it sounds funny, and 'Daretaker' as a means of mocking his future inability to be 'daring' while in slavery.

The nobleman had many residences on numerous planets, and to save money didn't bother keeping a permanent staff at all of them; he just ferried his entire staff around with him wherever he went. Quekk spent nearly three decades as a slave, during which time he was regularly beaten for whatever minor goof the guards had arbitrarily decided to get angry about that day. Sometimes he was beaten for no reason at all besides sheer boredom. The beatings are believed to have given him some degree of brain damage, affecting his ability to recall memories, which would explain why he can hardly remember anything specific about his time in slavery.

There is one exception to this, though. Like almost all of his kind, Quekk possessed an inexplicable biological urge to bray very loudly during the twilight of New Plympto, or 'Singing the Sun Down' as it is known. Only problem was, being away from New Plympto all the time screwed up his internal rhythm, leading him to start braying at unexpected, inopportune moments. His master was annoyed at this and considered having him killed to shut him up, but the thing was, he was actually quite good as far as slaves go, and he didn't particularly feel like wasting money buying a replacement slave.

So he instead had Quekk strapped down to a table and forced a doctor to perform an invasive surgery on his Larynx, irrepairably damaging it and silencing him forever, while keeping him healthy in all other areas. It didn't stop him from 'Singing the Sun Down', only now it would be silent, since all he could do was gasp in pain, and that was good enough for the master.

This certainly motivated Quekk; numerous escape attempts had gotten him nowhere, so he instead opted to convince his master to go easier on him by being exceptional in his various tasks. He was often ordered to send messages and deliver items from one end of his master's estates to the other, and the normal route would always be 'too slow'; thus, he learned how to run better and navigate over obstructive architecture. When his master started entering him into slave fights for his amusement, he learned how to expertly attack with a pair of sticks given to him as weapons.

Of course, this all backfired on his master quite badly. Eventually the noble attended a wild party somewhere in the lower levels of Coruscant, and Quekk was taken with to be thrown into more gladiator fights. Except they never got the chance to see him in their 'ring'. He managed to steal a pair of Vibroblades from the armoury and threatened a guard (with gestures) into opening an entrance into the city's all-encompassing cable tunnels. The tunnels lead him to 3030, with more of the noble's guards in hot pursuit.

He ran for hours, but the guards were attentive, and almost maniacally devoted to tracking him down and taking him back, beyond all reason. Eventually, Quekk was exhausted and cornered. Recapture seemed imminent.

But this wasn't the end of return to freedom. Before the pursuing guards could recapture him, they were jumped from behind by a group of armed aliens in Swooper jackets; their leader, an imposing female Trandoshan, demanded that the Nosaurian be let go, else they would be pumped full of plasma and their bodies unceremoniously tossed into a trash compactor. Outnumbered and outgunned, the guards chose to grant their request, and told their boss that Quekk had jumped off a ledge while escaping and died from the fall, so as to avoid getting chewed out for their 'cowardice'.

The Trandoshan introduced herself to Quekk as Odasska, the President of the Electric Dinkos SC, responsible for piecing the Club back together after the Pure 'purged' them several years before, which included the death of Odasska's lover and former President Eeaks Eetom. Communicating via scribbles and gestures, Quekk was enormously grateful, and decided the only way he could ever repay her and her Club would be to swear a Life-Debt.

Like all who wish to join the Dinkos, he was at first made a Prospective member, but Odasska and Air Captain Devet-Rolae allowed him to basically live at their clubhouse and serve as Night-watchman as he took online courses designed to teach him how to read and write, something that he never had the opportunity to do before. Eventually he got bored with just sitting around in the clubhouse all day and asked to be taken with the Club on their various outings. Before going out, however, Odasska went through great pains to tell him that humans, 'responsible as they are' for almost every galactic catastrophe ever, she said, cannot be trusted. Thanks to his time in slavery, Quekk didn't need much convincing, and from then on he treated almost every human he encountered with suspicion. That being said, he also made sure to adhere very strictly to the Club's moral code, never engaging in violence without good reason, lest they stoop to the level of common thugs.

Having proved himself a capable Swooper due to his reflexes and attention to detail at high speed, he was soon declared a Patched-in member of the Club; later still, after the Patrolian Sergeant-at-Arms Farminen was expelled from the Club for the unprovoked killing of a Human, Quekk stepped in to replace him. He later killed Farminen when the latter attempted to bomb the Clubhouse as revenge.

Roses are red, Violets are blue,

Roses may or may not be red,
Violets are actually purple.
This poem is scientifically inaccurate,
And should be fed to a Snapping Turtle.

Google Picture War

Google Picture War

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

@EliteCommander

I should point out that it was never my intention for Dyno to show up at The Pit as Mar is doing what he's doing right now. I had intended for him to appear later. Like tomorrow (in-universe).

In other words, 'syncing up' with what everyone else is doing is not an issue. :D (:V)
At least, not now.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

Dyno, Tir and Krenn:
--------------------
The Tiss'Shar on the other side of the room got up, and was now walking over to him. This was not good, Dyno thought to himself. It wasn't good because his prying eyes had evidently upset her sense of privacy without him realising, and now he was probably going to get a right bollocking from her. But there was still time to salvage the situation, he thought.

He quickly jerked his head away from her direction and focused on eating. He knew he had to be back at his broadcast very soon, but he couldn't just run off. That would look very bad indeed. No ex-Dinko could ever do such a thing.

Thus, it took a bit longer than would be ideal for the DJ to process the words that eventually came out of her mouth, after she had stood behind him rather ominously, tapping her claws against the wall. They didn't seem to have a hint of anger to them... but of course, words could be very deceiving. He chose to play things safe.

"Uh... yello. The feeling's mutual." He admitted, cautiously looking back at the lady whose name he now knew was 'Tir'. It served as a reminder of something; though he, too, had a native name in the form of Kinn-Dai-Shassna, he never used it except on occasions of grave formality... but he'd always told himself, when he was but a hatchling, that he'd save it for whenever he met fellow Tiss'Shar.

"The name's, uh... well, it's Kinn, but everyone calls me Dyno. As in, DJ. DJ Dyno. Because I'm a DJ. ...Duh." He said sarcastically in a probably futile attempt to break the ice, shrugging.

Tir gave a grin, or at least the Tiss'shar version of one, as her prior suspicions were confirmed. "DJ Dyno...I thought I recognized that voice. I never knew you were Tiss'shar." She commented.

Dyno was pleasantly surprised at what had just come out of her mouth. Not even the slightest hint of a grudge in there, and he knew a grudge when he heard one. It was only now that he was properly looking at her face-to-face that he noticed her arm. Or rather, the lack of an arm. An organic arm, that is, replaced by a metallic black thing. The sight almost made him sigh, but he managed to stop it on its way out his own mouth. He always found it somewhat regrettable that many of his kind were most known for being mercenaries and the like.

"You look like you've been in some scrapes." He said, if only to gleam some more detail over what sort of conflicts she got herself involved in. "Big scrapes, even. This being the place that it is, I'm guessing that wasn't from a construction accident, or hiking trip in the mountains of Corellia gone horribly wrong. So the only other option is that you're some kind of Merc. I mean, it certainly looks less healable than whatever happened to you." He briefly referred to the Besalisk fellow, who now looked like he had some water splashed all over the place. "You need to see a doctor, or something."

Krenn, who had politely abstained from the conversation thus far and had focused on the plate of Gamorrean sausage before him took a quick bite and let the excess sausage drop back on his plate.
"Nah, I'm fine, no need for doctors. It's mostly surface damage anyway and since I have never been considered that attractive it is of little importance." Krenn chewed down the rest of his sausage and grinned at the two. Opening his hands in the 'what can you do' manner. "Krenn's the name by the way, pleasure to meet you both."

Tir looked down at her mechanical forearm, lifting it up slightly. She flexed out her fingers, then rotated her hand at the wrist. Back when she had first recieved the prosthetic, it had been covered in synthflesh that near perfectly replicated the look and feel of her scales. However, once that had become damaged, she never replaced it. Instead, it now had simple, black plating which she tried to keep as clean as possible.

"You're partially right. I am a mercenary, of sorts. A bounty hunter, usually. But, this thing is a souvenir from the Clone Wars." Tir explained, though her attention was drawn to the Besalisk nearby once Dyno pointed out his injuries. "But yes, your wounds look far more...recent. Granted, you practically need a few cuts and bruises to blend in on thirty-thirty."

Dyno chuckled slightly at Tir's remark. Evidently, she was no stranger to the inner workings of this lovely neighbourhood. As he did so, however, he took another look at the clock on the wall. Clearly, he hadn't a lot of time to be engaging in pleasantries, regrettably. As much as he loved hosting his show, it did take up an awful lot of his spare time. He had often thought of getting himself a true co-host to occupy those moments; a droid, perhaps.

After his initial shock as displayed by a silent gasp, he did think of something, though. The Dinkos were always looking for extra protection at their philanthropic ventures, and as cut-down as they were, now reduced to working as hired muscle for Gorro, they were still the only good bunch of people in this hellhole, as far as Dyno was concerned.

"...You know, Tir, I haven't got a lot of time on my hands before I have to go back to my broadcast. But if you're looking for more work, then... well, I'll be honest, I don't like violence, so I could never bring myself to arrange for you to get hired by some friends of mine. But if I just so happened to offhandedly mention you to them and they decided they liked the sound of you, then that'd be a different story."

Krenn's interest peaked at this; his chewing slowed as he raised his head to listen in more, refraining from speaking till the two opted to include him again.

Tir’s immediate reaction to Dyno’s offer was slight skepticism. She was no stranger to job offers. While hardly anyone in 3030 could be considered charitable, many were looking for capable employees. After enough successful bounties, most of the syndicates in the area had ended up offering her some kind of other work at some point, the Pures excluded. However, even if the job itself was not terribly unsavory, she was not going to allow herself to directly support their operations.

”Hmm, well I am not saying no, but you should know that I am more discerning about the jobs that I take than most mercs.” Tir answered. "Taking on bounties allows me to choose targets who I have no qualms about killing or capturing. The majority of my work targets the Pures, as you might imagine. I am not opposed to other work, but I have to know that the people that I'm working for have the interest of thirty-thirty's innocents in mind. Or at the very least, they aren't actively hurting them."

After a few moments for thought, Tir's expression began to seem more encouraging. Given how long she had lived in the area, she had heard his radio show before, so she at least knew his public persona. Needless to say, it was far different from most of the local, gang-run programs. "I've heard your show before, Kinn. It may not be the kind of music I prefer to listen to constantly, but I've heard the things you say. I think your work is a positive force in this area, so I'm inclined to give you some trust. Do you think the people you're talking about are the kind of people I'd be willing to work for?"

Dyno listened attentively to Tir's words, feeling quite reassured. They seemed to think on the same wavelength, and this made him smile. But that was nothing compared to the warm feeling he got inside when he was told he was a positive influence. He couldn't remember the last time someone had acknowledged such things out loud. He always told himself that it wouldn't make a bit of difference, but...

"I, uh... thank you. Thank you so much." He said sheepishly, sounding like he was holding back tears of joy. Good thing he was wearing goggles.

"Ahem. Yeah, you'll love this." He managed to splutter out, getting back on track. "See, back before I got into music, I used to be part of a local Swoop Club; the Electric Dinkos, they're called. All-Alien group. They used to be pretty big, but when the Pures arrived on the scene, they 'cut them down to size'." He said, clenching his teeth together when he uttered that euphemism. "Nowadays, they're a pretty low-key outfit. They take work for Gorro, but only to pay the bills. They've sworn to never kill anyone without good reason, even humans. Anyway, they're going to show up at The Pit sometime soon, and they want me to be there, to help turn people away from getting recruited by the big Gangs... uh, covertly. I don't know for sure, but I imagine they wouldn't mind some extra security."

Tir was briefly indecisive with the description Dyno gave of this swoop club. For one, despite not actually having a personal stake in the matter, she did not approve of being exclusionary towards anyone, Humans included. They also were working for Gorro, though in that regard, she supposed she could not fault them without knowing more. Many of her bounties were paid for by Gorro as well. However, the other aspects of his description did seem encouraging. She would have to confirm it through experience with them, but Dyno said they did have a moral code, and what they intended to do at the Pit was certainly something she would support. It was difficult to find people, let alone organizations in 3030 with even an acceptable ethical standard, so she knew it would be unreasonable to expect perfection.

There was enough of a delay for the silence to be distinctly noticeable before Tir responded. Dyno took this opportunity to look behind him somewhat awkwardly during this period of silence. Old habits died hard, perhaps, but he'd always been told to remain wary during these sorts of delicate conversations. Krenn thought of breaking the silence by responding to the offer himself, but doubt kept him in check.

”Well, I will say up front that I do not approve of excluding Humans just as much as I dislike those who include only Humans." Tir eventually responded. "However, as long as they are not malicious towards them, I can tolerate it. If they are as you say they are, then we may be able to do some good together. The Pit is a brutal place, though it is at least all voluntary, as far as I know. Still, if the Electric Dinkos want to keep people out of the gangs, I can act as backup security. I’ll give you my communicator code, it’s on my…”

Tir reached back and pulled out her datapad, stopping herself once she looked down at the cracked screen. ”Oh, right…still need to get that fixed.” She commented, barring her teeth in annoyance. ”Okay, how about this? Let me see your datapad and I’ll just give you the location of my apartment. I just finished a bounty, so I should be home at least in the evenings for the next few weeks. If not, you can slide a message under my door. I’ll have to trust you not to give that to anyone else; I don’t really like for a lot of people to know where I live.”

Dyno simply listened and nodded throughout Tir's expression of her concerns. He had to admit to himself, he was never a huge fan of exclusionism among their group, but he understood that it was for good reason; solidarity. Most of the Swoopers in his old club had some seriously bad experiences with humans. It was only natural they'd be angered enough to exclude them.

"That sounds like a good idea." He nodded much more dramatically than before. "Let me just-"

A frown soon appeared on Dyno's face as he patted about his vest and his toolbelt. Something was missing.

"...Oh, wait, it's upstairs. Damn. Uh... Phabbs!" He looked over to the gloomy-looking Falleen waitress, who had just finished sliding some dishes over to a rather loud Aleena family near the window. Wrong place for a family visit, he thought. "...Phabbs, my lady, could ya come over here a moment?"

Phabbs did as she was asked, albeit in a clearly slow and reluctant fashion, as if she'd fall asleep on the way there. "Uh... yeah?" She asked about two-thirds of the distance from Dyno, making sure to sweep her hair out of her face.

"I need to borrow your notepad real quick."

"...Why?"

"Because I left my datapad upstairs and I need to note something down."

"Like, note what down?"

Dyno rubbed the top of his head, slightly irritated. "That's something I'd rather be kept private."

Phabbs took a moment to look over the DJ and the other Tiss'Shar, trying to form some kind of amusing connection. Amusing enough to make her chuckle under her breath and smirk to herself immaturely. "Heh. Okay..." she said, handing the notepad over to him.

As Dyno started writing Krenn finally overcame his scruples about mingling in the conversation between the two Tiss'Shars. His finished plate was the main factor that prompted it, but still, both these beings seemed half-decent. "Any other job offers going around? I am sort of new here. You both locals I presume?"

"More or less." Dyno responded to the Besalisk, briefly looking up from his note-taking. "I can't say I have any job openings, but... well, what's your profession?"

"Well I am a freighter pilot, but now without a freighter.... I'm half decent with blasters though, and good in a brawl, if that is the kind of thing you are looking for" Krenn responded with a tinge of sadness.

"A pilot, eh?" Dyno said, getting down from his seat. "I'm sure there's plenty of work openings for skilled pilots down here. The education in trades like that down here is... well, it's not what I'd call Alderaan University-calibre. So you'd be a standout. Just be careful who you choose to work for."

"Really, you think they would be looking for pilots way down here? I thought only public transport and planetary freighters. I am a space pilot. More importantly, why the warning? Gangs?"

"Have you never heard of transferrable skills, man? In any case... yes, gangs. Lots of them. I would tell you more, but I haven't got much time." Dyno eyed the clock on the wall again. "Simply put, 3030 is not where you want to be. If I was in your position, I'd get the hell out of here ASAP. I just don't leave because... I'm needed here."

After Tir had given Dyno her address, along with some directions, she listened to the issues the Besalisk, Krenn, seemed to be having. Based on the way he was talking, and the types of injuries that covered him, he appeared to be more than just 'sort of' new to the area. She looked him over curiously, specifically concentrating on his wounds. "A pilot without a freighter? And exactly how...recently did you lose that freighter? Anyway, as for the gangs, he is correct. You don't want to work for Gorro, or the Blackened Stars. The Pures are human supremacists, and may attack or kill you without reason. The least destructive of them all are likely the Sirens. Although, that is not to say that many of their operations are not illegal. They will work with men, though they only accept women among their gang."

Krenn took a good gulp from his drink to mask his discomfort with her questions. "Just a few days ago, impounded indefinitely, you know those Imperials." Krenn said, quickly taking another sip to mask the lie. Though they seemed good folk, he just wasn't sure.

Meanwhile, Dyno made sure to rip the page out of Phabbs' notepad before leaving on the side, wringing his wrists slightly, and clutching them tight once the Pures came up again. He was worried about this four-armed fellow's welfare in this kind of environment, but he didn't feel confident in attempting to aid him any further, not without instilling panic within him, and making him go to extreme lengths to get out. Going to extreme lengths would just draw attention to him, and make him act irrationally.

He picked up his unfinished plate of food; this would have to be another lunch-at-broadcast, though he already expected that. "Anyway, listen. I have to get back to the ol' station. I would make some snarky remark about the vitality of my 'positive influence' here, but I can't think of one. My mind is slow and boring when I'm not up there. Or riding Swoops. You know how it is. Ahem. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Tir, and... what was your name... Krenn, that was it." He asked the Besalisk; if he hadn't remembered at the last minute, he would have decideded he didn't really have enough time to be waiting for a response; the fellow, as nice as he was, seemed a bit slow and ponderous to him, which would explain why he was so concerned for his welfare. Dyno headed for the bathroom corridor, on the path to his apartment, but managed to stop and turn back towards Tir before he left, trying to keep a smile going on. "I'll get in touch with you somehow about that security thing. See ya, Teema!" He yelled past Tir, attracting the attention of the recently-emerged-from-the-kitchen lady. "Don't forget about my Ardees!"

"Wot, yer leavin' already?!" Teema did her damnedest to zoom in Dyno's direction on her wheeled stool, but he was too fast. "...Am I s'posed to send it up there like I'm some kinda Kath 'Ound with a plate strapped to its back? Ooh-egh."

Rubbing her forehead, she turned to address Tir. "Heh, lucky you, you caughta glimpse o' 3030's 'appiest chap outta his element, an' exposed 'im for the socially awkward dullard 'e is. Y'still wanna date the guy? At least, that's what I assumed y'were doin'. ...Nah, but seriously, 'e's a good kid. Jus' know that y'don't need to, y'know... Tiss'Shar ain't nearly extinct, I'll say dat much." She said, narrowing her eyelids; if she could immaturely grin with that beak, she would. She was old enough to know that acting your age didn't really mean a thing, or so she thought.

Upon the suggestion that Tir's conversation with Dyno was romantic in nature, she simply laughed, and so did Krenn. It would take much more than sharing a species to capture Tir's interest in that regard. She had not actually had any actual romantic interests in the time she had been in level 3030.

Teema retained her expression, but its meaning gradually transitioned as she leaned up against the counter to speak more seriously. "Oh, an' by the way, Yod-Yod showed me security footage o' you bringin' severed 'eads in 'ere. 'Uman 'eads. As much as I can't stand those self-righteous, eggshell-wearin' Peach-Monkeys, I don't appreciate it when people bring body parts into an eatin' establishment. People will think I'm choppin' 'em up, or somethin'. I ain't like that. I got taste, haha!"

She went silent for nearly ten seconds after that, first to hold in her own laughter, then to look slightly worried that Tir wasn't saying anything in response. "...Dat was a joke."

Teema's mention of the security footage she had reviewed, Tir did take a bit more seriously, though she maintained the same seemingly lighthearted attitude as the proprietor. "Yes, well, it was the head of a Pure, if that makes you feel any better. Regardless, I can assure you that is not my normal mode of operations." She commented as she reached into her pouch and pulled out her cracked datapad once more. "Datapad's busted, so I had to improvise, and the client insisted on meeting here. With luck, I won't have to do that again. The scent of the fresh blood makes me hungry. Speaking of which..." She began, glancing back to her booth. "...it seems my steak has arrived. Since I'm here, I may as well go ahead and give you my payment."

Reaching into another pouch, Tir produced a few credits and laid them down on the counter near Teema. Notably, it was over twice the cost of her actual order, as an apology for the trouble.

"Heh, dat's good t'know." Teema said in reference to the 'blood makes me hungry' remark. Any other person might have been unnerved, but not Teema. It was her age again, most likely. It was probably a good thing that Dyno wasn't around to hear that; he had the same feeling, of course, but he tended to be a lot more hush-hush about it.

"...I'll be sure to start layin' blood trails by th'door or somethin'." Teema joked. "...Good thing dat was a Pure. They can all go to 'ell, frankly. Though if y'ask me, I reckon they're in c'oots with th'Empire. Just like their people, always wantin' t'take everythin' over, never satisfied with what they got... buuuut, I s'pose dat's a rant for another day. At least 'untin' 'em still pays well. Bloody 'ell, look at dat." She blurted the last few parts out unexpectedly, upon seeing the amount paid for Tir's food. This called for a rare display of genuine politeness. "Y'enjoy yerself, m'lady."

"Thank you." Tir added with a simple nod. She looked to Krenn with a slight hint of worry, not that her more subtle facial expressions would necessarily be readable to a Besalisk. "Take care of yourself. Hopefully Kinn will be able to find you something. If not...well I suppose the Sirens would not be the worst option. Just be sure to be respectful towards them. If you need help, you have my permission to ask Kinn to put you into contact with me." She explained before heading back to her booth.

Krenn couldn't help but feel lucky for the two strangers he stumbled into. He said his thanks ads he waved to Tir and Dyno, he couldn't help but feel lost, alone in the diner. He searched his pockets for the few credits he had. Giving some serious thought about visiting the Sirens.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

A few minutes had passed since Teema had gone off to continue managing her establishment, enabling a mass of smoke and steam to enter the main room when she opened the door to her kitchen.

Dyno took a look at the digital clock on the wall. By his estimate, he had about six minutes before he'd have to go back upstairs to continue broadcasting. Hopefully he'll get some more good calls that would justify shortening his break time, he thought, resting his long-necked head against the wall (his neck being long enough to make it impractical to rest his head against his hand). It was at this point his gaze was pointed to the side, and he noticed a fellow sitting next to him.

A big, rather dirty-looking Besalisk was there. Seemed to fit a lot of the stereotypes, Dyno could tell, going from his choice of attire and big, cheesy grin on his bristly face. Still, at least they were pleasant stereotypes, which is more than can be said for most. The Besalisk looked back at him and asked him about Teema's attitude. Must be new around here, going by that tone.

"Only if you're human." Dyno told him bluntly, folding his arms and attempting to smile in the presence of the newcomer. "So you should be a-okay." Dyno said, making an 'okay' gesture with one hand.

It was only after this that he got a closer look at the Besalisk's features. Dyno squinted behind his goggles, taking it all in. He tended to do this when he met someone knew, lest he be accused of being a poor judge of character. Poor judges of character tended to end up either dead or enslaved in a place like this. He'd already done numerous PSAs basically saying that, albeit in a less gloomy way.

"...Holy... sheez, is that fuel streaming down your shirt?" He uttered, his gaze being drawn upwards by said streams, which seemed to be oozing from around the man's face. He plucked one of his strapless goggles and held it open for a moment, exposing his squint as he examined him some more, like he was some kind of doctor. "And... there's bruises and singes on your face. Have you been in an accident?"

"Ah, Dyno, Dyno, Dyno; always forgettin' where the radio ends and face-to-face talkin' begins." Teema suddenly swooped in on her wheeled stool, sarcastically shaking her head. Dyno had to concede she was right there, but his line of thought (and line of sight, to be sure) was distracted by the plate of oversized meat Kabobs she had resting between one hand and her elbow. Being a natural carnivore had that effect on you. She rested said arm on the counter, enabling the plate to slide off and onto Dyno's figurative lap, showing that usual dexterity that restaurant staff tended to have.

"An' I'm guessin' yer new 'ere." She said, turning to the bruised Besalisk. "'Ow may Teema be o' service? Y'look like y'could do with some Gamorrean sausages. I got too many o' them bloody things back there." She suggested, pointing one thumb back towards the kitchen.

"What irony..." Dyno said to her in their customary back-and-forth, though his gaze was still being forced away from his food. It had to be said, if she didn't follow her own advice on social etiquette. Even if it got him distracted. He looked over at the clock again; looked like he'd have to take his food upstairs with him.

"'Ey, uhh... Miss Teema, yous gotta see this 'ere..." A nervous, raspy voice called over from behind the boss. It was one of her employees, a pale Gungan wearing what resembled grimy scrubs.

"Egh. Damnit Yod-Yod, I'm busy!" She belted out, swivelled about in his face with lightning speed.

"But-" Yod-Yod almost began with a finger raised, only to be cut off. His surprised expression, or lack thereof, seemed to suggest this was not an unusual occurrence.

"For th'love o' Bobbyqueasy or Bobo-croquet whatever the 'ell it is, say no more!" Teema yelled at him again, before swivelling back around to Dyno and his new best friend. "I'll be right back... I 'ope."

Thus, she got down off her wheeled stool, exposing her true shortness, and followed her employee down the counter to a recently-cleared table by the door, constantly pointing at the floor as a form of punctuating her words. "This better be real bloody important, Yod-Yod. I still 'aven't forgotten dat incident with th'Anooba dat was on a leash!"

As this was going on, Dyno had taken the opportunity to briefly forget about his deadlines and snatch up one of the Kabobs on his plate. His massive, cavernous reptilian jaw assured that he was largely incapable of eating delicately in the same way an average humanoid can. Thus, he instead bit into it and slid one of the meaty chunks off the skewer.

"She lovesh 'em really..." He offhandedly explained to the Besalisk next to him as he chewed, "...But nobody likesh being interrupted."

It was while he was saying this he looked past the Besalisk for a moment, and caught sight of something astonishing enough to make him stop chewing. Off to the other (horizontal) side of the diner from where he was sitting, he saw another Tiss'Shar looking back at him. Female, from the looks of things. It was hard to explain how he could tell the difference between the sexes of his people, but it was obviously an innate instinct sort of thing.

He found it astonishing not because he'd never met another one of his kind before; he'd travelled to the Tiss'Shar home planet of the same name while he was still out and about selling his records; but he'd never imagined one would have any reason to come down to this hellhole. His experiences had bore this assumption out until now, as one was right here, and looking back at him, too. The sight was eye-widening, in fact. Perhaps surreal. When you go for so long without meeting another one of your species, the effect was like looking in some bizarre mirror. It was difficult to quantify in words.

As Dyno was still thinking of how to use this news, his look at the fellow Tiss'Shar was interrupted when another one of Teema's employees walked over to her and blocked their view of each other. The employee, a waitress, was a very gloomy-looking young Falleen with a half-shaved, half massive eye-covering fringe for hair and piercings all over the place. The label on her top said 'PHABBS'.

Teema's natural inclusiveness (humans notwithstanding) lead her to attract all manner of subcultures to her employment, and her association with the Electric Dinkos certainly helped.

"Heeey... so, are you ready to, like, order an' stuff?" Phabbs asked the new Tiss'Shar in a 'let's get this over with' kind of voice, oblivious to Dyno's attempt to look around her to continue inspecting the new arrival, to make sure he hadn't been spiked with Herbs in his Kabob. It wouldn't be the first time.

Star Wars: Coruscant Underworld [Always accepting!]

@Sep

I changed his text to a pale blue-green. How's that?

Oh, and will Mar be planning on fighting in the Pit after his match with Gurak? Because Dyno will show up there at some point.