Open An Exchange at Benno’s Cantina

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge downed another Jawa Juice as she scanned the Cantina. It’s a busy night tonight, she mused. Upbeat music and bright, colorful lights overwhelmed her senses. She had chosen one of the more flashy Cantinas to meet the client in. There was a circular stage in the middle where several Quarren were singing a song so loudly she could barely make out the gist of it: something about loving the vast stars and alcohol. They were flanked by two dancers, one human and one Twi’lek. Lights flashed and the crowd cheered loudly. On one side of the Cantina was the bar with an exhausted looking woman giving orders to a droid, which in turn prepared drinks and served them. In the farthest corner were several holo-tables displaying sporting events, around which many beings were clustered, watching eagerly. Pidge took all of this in, scanning for the potential business partner.

Pidge clutched her satchel with the modified data pad in it. Not technically illegal, but she’d rather not get caught. This data pad featured a chip that scanned other data pads nearby, If a signal from a data pad owned by a known criminal was near, it would alert the user. It could also be modified to alert to others tech or com signals, maybe not of criminals but of certain unsavory individuals who her customer would rather avoid. The sale would hopefully go down quickly because she could only buy so many drinks and hang around for so long until others started to notice.

”Anytime now,” she whispered to her R4 unit under her breath. He chirped back as she went back to watching the door.

 

[Syrin V0ss]

After returning from Tatooine, nothing could beat a few drinks at the Cantina. However, she felt a little worried about word of her payment spreading around, so she decided to wear an alternate outfit to cover her face. Syrin was exhausted and didn't want a repeat of what occurred on Tatooine; it would be disadvantageous to become known as a universally known Cantina troublemaker.

Spoiler: Outfit

This particularly Cantina seemed nicer than any other Syrin had been in; she felt a little bit at ease. Making her way through a small crowd, Syrin took a seat at the bar. Giving a slight gesture towards the bartender, "A bottle of Phattro." she said. While waiting for her drink she looked around the Cantina to examine it. The place seemed lively, it was a good change of pace. Syrin couldn't help but take a few glances at the dancers either.

Bottle in hand, Syrin continued to look around the Cantina. She took notice of a Twi'lek with an R4 unit; R4's were quite the droids to have around. Syrin figured the girl had to be a smuggler or criminal of some sort, no one could just buy an R4 with some chump-change. Bringing her attention back to the performance in the center, Syrin popped open the bottle and chugged it down.

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge sighed. The customer seemed to be a no-show. Not unexpected, though, he had seemed seedy to begin with. Maybe someone else would be interested in purchasing- it was worth a try. If not, people knew things. She could always gather information.

Glancing around, she spotted a young woman with striking white hair. I haven’t seen her before. I should go introduce myself, maybe she could use some tech. Pidge sauntered to over to her as R4-T6 reluctantly rolled behind.

“Can I interest you in a drink?”

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC

Spoiler

Spoiler

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The door opened. In stepped two men who walked together but couldn’t have looked further apart. Human and male, though the similarities ended there. One man wore jeans and a navy blue jacket and was bald of head and dark of skin. The other man was tailored in a three-piece black dress suit, white shirt and blue tie, with a black fedora to boot, and was light of skin. If a Twi’lek was watching that door then these two characters stepping through it might not have seemed out of the ordinary. They made it an effort to have their faces not go recognized by unknown associates. The Twi’lek, however, was recognized immediately. She was just a different Twi’lek altogether.

“Zel’fu-fu! What an utterly pleasant surprise!” The fedora-toting man expelled with open arms.

Pink lekku flapped about as the woman whirled her arm and spun her hand right across the man’s face. “Don’t Zel’fu-fu me you pompous pimp!”

Pompous pimp? It was all Baymon could do but stand there stunned, stunned, his cheek stinging in six sectors. “Why, whatever did I—”

With a hiss, Zel’fu held up her hand to eat his words and stormed past him. Baymon was left standing there blinking, stealing a look at his companion for any kind of explanation. Zenke, however, just stood there staring back, smiling. Frowning, Baymon decided to think little more of it as they navigated from the entranceway into the crowd.

The cantina was teeming with folks, from pink-lekku Twi’leks to pink-skinned Zeltrons and just about every other tint and shade conceivable like cocktails on a bar. Amid the pulsating beats of live music, even the lights were dancing, bathing everyone in a concoction of color. As the pair of men walked the floor, careful not to bump into anyone lest drinks be spilled, they had their eyes out for the one Twi’lek who they would not at all be surprised to find. In fact, she should already be there waiting for them, specifically one man in particular.

Baymon had heard of this ‘datapad’ through the grapevine one morning while eating grapes from a vine. A chip that could scan other datapads within proximity, even localize known criminals, complete with further modification, was an opportunity not to pass up. Every Joe from Criminal City and Shmo from Headhunter Town could use such a device for their own agendas, not limited to dating the calendar for the next galactic podrace or grandmother’s funeral. Baymon certainly had his own ideas on the matter, and was banking on striking a fair bargain in his acquisition of said datapad. Zenke had set up the commcall, Baymon took it, and he and the Twi'lek decided to set up a meeting for him to in turn set a purchase. As long as I find the seller, beyond doubt.

Unlike her predecessor, they were looking for a Twi’lek of teal skin, apparently with an R4 unit. She had mentioned where she would be posted up in such a fine establishment as this one, but when the duo of men arrived at the table all they found was a mammoth head wherein such wording was not quite so much adjectival. Its skin was not teal but gray, with black, beady eyes far too small for its elephantine visage, and streaks of blond hair dangling out from beneath a hood, looking terribly out of place.

“Well!” Baymon smiled. “Apparently you are not a Twi’lek.”

A raucous burp escaped from the Chevin’s mouth above the floor in response, as though the statement had offended every fiber of its being. Clearing his throat, Baymon passed a shall-we? glance Zenke’s way and made for the bar. On the way, his mind raced with possibilities. Wrong cantina? Wrong table? She took a restroom break? She stood me up? Or, maybe, she may have felt as thirsty as he suddenly was, no thanks to previous company. Squeezing in at the bar, Baymon ordered a straight vodka for himself and cranberry juice for his friend.

"Baymon," Zenke spoke beside him, nodding in a direction at the bar. Some stools down, there was the unmistakable sight of an R4 unit and a Twi'lek of teal skin, speaking with present company of her own. I see. Apparently someone beat me to the punch.

"Well," Baymon spoke, sipping his drink. "Let's wait and watch."

 

[Syrin V0ss]

Being offered a drink was uncommon in Cantinas, due to most of them being filled with scoundrels and dirty smugglers. Syrin finished her drink and placed the bottle down on the counter with some force; observing eyes looking up and down the Twi'lek. The stranger was short but had a fine appearance. Syrin could tell there was something more to the girl's offering, but she decided to play along. Turning her head back towards the center stage, Syrin spoke in a low neutral tone "Be my guest."

Syrin wasn't watching the performance on the stage, more so continuing to observe the two men who just walked in. One of them wore a rather nice outfit, it was blatantly obvious he was a part of some crime syndicate. He hardly seemed to be a threat, neither did his partner, so Syrin brought her attention back to the Twi'lek.

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge smiled and headed over to the counter. “Two specials, please”, she requested to the woman taking orders, then more quietly, “I think I might have a buyer, Donaa ”.
“Them?” Dona gestured towards the two men who had just entered the cantina. Pidge hadn’t noticed their appearanc. One of them had just grabbed a pink Twi’lek. Wow, he has no class. Probably my client, then. The type that bought Pidge’s tech weren’t typically the most well mannered, and this one appeared to be no exception. Pidge grabbed the drinks and headed back over to the woman. I’ll just see who will pay more. I like to benefit from my sales, not necessarily in money (although credits are nice). I could always use a new business partner.

She strolled back quickly, gave the woman a drink, and said,“If you could excuse me for a second, a friend of mine has arrived”. Placing her glass on the table, she motioned to R4-T6 to follow. “C’mon Rat”. Pidge moved towards the new arrivals

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC [Recurring]

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Watching the pair of females from the corner of one eye and the pupil of another, Baymon could only imagine the sort of talk being exchanged between them. The silver-haired lovely was most likely after the ‘datapad’ so that she could pinpoint the location of her would-be targets because, as the stars would have it, beneath that head of starlit strands was the murderous mind of an assassin. It’s the sweet ones that other ones have to watch out for. Muse though his mind did, he mustn’t let his fancies get the better of him, and he knew as much. For all I know she’s just trying to buy some death sticks. Four drinks later between two men and two women and one woman left the other to stroll toward the two men.

“Ah! Here she comes.” Baymon gestured toward Zenke who stood on one side with the teal Twi’lek approaching Baymon’s other, droid in tow. Subtly if not so subtly, he looked away and turned to face the bar and the bottles of booze on the wall. “And she’s either going to tell us that she has another buyer lined up or ask us to line her pockets with our own four hands.”

“Two hands, Baymon. Just yours. I’ll be holding the drinks.”

Baymon sipped his own while struggling to taste whatever truth was in Zenke’s smiling speech, and waited to receive the Twi’lek merchant of datapads from the corner of his eye.

 

[Syrin V0ss]

Syrin wasn't all too surprised about the Twi'leks order; the specials were usually the cheapest, and nastier, drinks. Syrin took a swig of her drink, listening to the Twi'lek mumble to herself. She felt rather disappointed, as she had placed her bets on the Twi'lek being a junkyard scrapper. "Makes sense how she got her hands on the droid. Behind every successful fortune is a crime." she thought to herself. It was funny how well she remembered her teachings even though she cared not for them.

A chuckle forced its way out of Syrin's mouth as she watched the Twi'lek walk towards the two men she observed before. Syrin had the feeling that she was about to get wrapped up in some predicament, as was the usual. Hopefully this time she can settle any problems within a cantina peacefully, though not out of goodness of her heart. It was a tiring day, and she felt no motivation to take part in some action. Syrin continued to sip her drink while carefully watching the Twi'lek in the corner of her eye; she felt as if the short girl was new to the business: "What idiot mumbles their plan to themselves?" she thought.

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge sauntered over to the two men. R4T rolling reluctantly behind her chirping something about already having a customer. “Hey, I’m the one running the business here, bud”. She adjusted her belt and put on her best ‘I know what I’m doing so you‘d better respect me face’, bracing herself for the encounter. These exchanges rarely went smoothly.

The lights flashed in the cantina as the song shifted to a more low, jazzy type. The crowd went wild. Wow, drunk patrons really are easy to entertain. A couple of wobbly aliens jostled past her. The aqualish one gurgled “Rayla!” and grabbed her arm, clearly thinking she was someone else. Yanking her arm away, she searched once again for her customers, but they had disappeared in the maze of cantina goers. “On the oceans of Manaan, where did they go”, she swore. Suddenly she spotted the two dingy figures again, leaning against the bar. One of them was drinking.

“Hello, are you here for a datapad? You don’t blend in particularly well, but I guess that worked out well considering I almost lost you”

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC

Spoiler

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Baymon nigh convulsed but settled for a series of rapid blinks as the lights flashed, with pink and blue and green fusing and flooding the cantina in rays of loud light. Nightclubs, or whatever this establishment classed itself as, were not quite his thing, and the ceiling was quite content with pounding him with that reminder. And yet, the music is more palatable this time around. Amid a click-beat percussion, the saxophone sprouted into the song like a cork popping from a bottle of champagne.

“Now this is a tad more attuned to my eardrums, Zenke. A little more on the jazzier side, if yet still on the dancier side.”

“Dancier? Is that a word?”

Baymon felt for sure that it was but wondered how some words were words while other words weren’t quite words, and in the end he was left fighting with furrowed brows.

“Hello, are you here for a datapad?

The teal figure and her robotic friend had entered Baymon’s peripheral vision before her words had entered his ears, though anyone speaking “datapad” in a place like this, where folks were busy sipping drinks or dancing after having sipped them, was more akin to speaking a codeword. This was not terribly coincidental considering the circumstances. After his own sip, he turned to face who was evidently his vendor, and in an instant his eyes sized her up even as they never left her own. My, what a face. Pretty. Young. Dumb? We’ll see.

"You don’t blend in particularly well, but I guess that worked out well considering I almost lost you”

Baymon checked himself and his surroundings before meeting the Twi’lek’s gaze. “Is it the hat? I considered going as bald as my associate here, but sometimes I just feel so naked without the hat, you know?” He hoped that the vodka sliding down his throat would excuse any rudeness on his part as he ogled her head. “I could see you in a fedora, now that I think on it. I’m sure it would go strikingly well with your lovely lekku!”

Zenke didn’t have to say anything, and didn’t, for Baymon to remember the subject matter and not lose himself to distractions as he cleared his throat. “Lekku and lost men in hats aside, it seems that we have found each other like saxophones and intoxicated dancers. On that note, can I buy you a drink?” He smiled beneath the rim of his hat.

 

[Pidge Batana]

“It was most definitely the hat. Although, despite your flatteries, I am not a hat person. They are designed for more human heads, or rather those that lack lekku“ Pidge couldn’t help but chuckle at the man‘s forwardness as she swayed slightly to the music. His companion had yet to speak, and Pidge kept a close eye on him. Perhaps he is a bodyguard? She knew it was rather unwise to pry but she couldn’t help asking. “And who are you?” And then glancing back to the hat man “Sure, I’ll take a drink. Thank you!” She couldn’t pass up an opportunity for a free beverage. R4-T6 beeped out it probably wasn’t wise to have many more drinks, considering she’d been at the cantina for a few hours but she ignored him. Hopefully appeasing her customer would get her a higher price. Or maybe an ally. She scanned the man who had offered her a drink taking in his every detail right up to his hat. She had to admit, it was stylish. Maybe, one day, she could give hats a try. But now she had a sale to complete.

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music OOC [Recurring]

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Baymon nodded at the lady’s point regarding the lekku and the lack of hat whereat. It was certainly a point of correction and not one of contention. On third thought, I could totally see her in a visor cap. He smiled at the thought as she laughed, which was usually a good sign, except for the kind of laughter that preceded murders and executions over mergers and acquisitions. Still, he was only buying her a drink for now. In no rush, he could afford to let pleasure precede business. She didn’t seem to disagree.

“And who are you?”

“Zenke,” Baymon’s associate answered amiably from his stool.

“That would make me Baymon Bluevynson,” Baymon followed up, suddenly feeling a little less wary as the Twi’lek began to bop her shoulders to the beats. That, too, was usually a good sign. “And what would your name be and the name of your drink?” After her response, Baymon caught the bartender’s attention and asked for another vodka and whatever the lady wanted. Zenke had barely touched his juice.

Passing over her drink, Baymon leaned back against the bar and sought the woman’s gaze. “I have no idea what your droid companion said, unless it wants a drink too.” The words came out jovially. “You, though, said something about a datapad, I believe? I just might be in the market for one. The one I have in mind is, ah, slightly sophisticated from what I hear. All I need to get it is a merchant. Know where I might find both?” He took a leisurely sip of his drink and watched the woman for her response.

 

[Pidge Batana]

“You can call me Pidge, and I’d love a Jawa Juice, thanks.” She smiled as Baymon slid her the drink. Atleast she wouldn’t have to take the cantina‘s buy five drinks, get the sixth one free offer. She was getting her fourth one free, maybe even profiting. Pidge stood in silence for a bit, watching the dancers. She was grateful she had enough opportunity to pay her credit fees by other means, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit sad. Sure some of them wanted to dance, but some most certainly did not. Tearing her eyes away she began, “So, this datapad, I happen to be the vendor... Say, why do you want it?”

Pidge knew the information may not be volunteered or even remotely interesting, but unique inventions often attracted unique clients. Living near the surface, Coruscant’s underworld seemed equally exhilarating and frightening to Pidge. Any glimpse, any connection with it she treasured. It was worth the risk of asking. “If you want, we can find a more private table”

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC [Recurring]

Spoiler

Baymon decided to measure his response to the question of why he wanted this datapad, and he didn’t hide that tact from his visage. “Let’s just say that if someone’s sharing a room with me who happens to be a notorious assassin, I’d like to find them before they find me.” He offered the lady a smile that he hoped would mask whether he was joking or not.

“Shall we?” Taking his glass, he gestured for himself to lead the way for all three individuals toward a booth closer to a corner of the cantina. It might have been occupied only moments ago, but the latest song seemed to bring more and more patrons out of their seats to hit the dancefloor. A server was rushing to clear the table of empty glasses, her night certainly as busy as the next, but she was courteous enough to smile at the new arrivals as they sat down to business. Baymon held her gaze for barely a second longer before they both looked away.

At the booth, Baymon sat closest to the wall, Zenke beside him, and on the opposite side of the table was Pidge. “Pidge,” Baymon spoke, sipping on the sound. “That’s a catchy name. Reminds me of a bird, one with wings to spread and skies to soar. Birth name or nickname?”

 

[Pidge Batana]

“Nickname. Somehow, my parents had the gall to name me Pidgelle. I think it sound a bit like a skincare product, so I like to go by Pidge. And I’d rethink the establishments you’re staying at if you are rooming with an assassin. But To each his own, I guess.“ Pidge was wary of assassins. Not that she had come into contact with them much, of course, but the idea of killing people subtly made her uneasy. Someone could heave death stalking them for days and not know until they were dying from a poisoned drink or a blaster bullet. It was sudden, there was no way one could prepare, really. Even the datapad was of limited use.

She had spent all her life trying to avoid death, she realized. She didn’t sell munitions and she was a medic, saving lives to stop premature death. Suns, She could barely even shoot her blaster straight. Doing this kind of job means you’re going to have to face death more often. In fact, if she wanted to make more money, Pidge might even have to set up shop a few dozen levels down. She’d once been told it was like a different planet down there. Perhaps she could learn a bit from her buyer. “Look, I also am in the business of information. Are you working for anyone right now? I could always use a new employer”, she smirked as she casually pulled a handful of credits out of a pouch on her belt.

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC [Recurring]

Spoiler

At Pidge’s words, Baymon twice chuckled on multiple accounts. ‘Skincare product’ was too much and his vodka nearly escaped his lips before he swallowed it just in time. As far as ‘room’ went, he might have elaborated that the vicinity of this cantina could also be considered a room, but he resolved that the ambiguity was all the better. Assassins. Hotel rooms. Gin and tonics. Two blasters and lips that part death. He blinked himself out of the memory, even as the face of the young woman sitting before him preserved some of that past into the present.

Baymon looked and listened as she carried on, with each word on her part convincing him that she was exactly as she carried herself to be, and that any secrets she had bottled away did not betray the purpose of her being here. She was the seller and he was the buyer, but evidently she was also looking to purchase a partnership. Or something else. There’s always something else. Even as his eyes never left her face, he wondered what Zenke was thinking beside him, and knew that his friend’s own gaze was drifting back and forth between the Twi’lek and the crowd.

“Pidgelle,” Baymon enunciated with a tilt of his head. “That is a lovely name! Reminds me of a Marjorelle I once knew, about your age. She was a flamingo of a ballerina. I once watched her perform in the Madame Butterfly at the Vozlo Opera House on Coruscant, and was fortunate enough to share backstage drinks with her and the gang thanks to familial connections.” Again, he was taken back to memory lane. “My, I bet she is married today and still twirling away. I would have liked to see what did become of her but, well, here we are.”

With a shrug, he lifted his glass to himself and sighed out the spicy aftertaste. Whatever Pidge’s movements, Baymon’s eyes embedded with hers. “Connections are good to have, wouldn’t you say? More than credits. You can buy just about anything in this galaxy with the right amount of funds. Datapads, weapons, ships, stations, planets, but you can’t buy relations or affiliations. You can only earn them. On that note, I may just buy the datapad you’re selling, after I get a good look at it of course, and if all goes well on that front then there just might be another field where your code of character and kind of caliber can be put to use.”

Baymon remained silent following those words, his pupils penetrating armor and shield or failing in the attempt, seeking to see beneath the surface of this Twi’lek named Pidgelle and find out what kind of person was hiding beneath. Abruptly, he straightened his neck and gently slapped the tabletop with enthusiasm.

“Well! Let’s not wait too long to cut the ribbon! How about you show me this intricate datapad that tickles both our fancy and we go from there?”



@Kestrel

 

[Syrin V0ss]

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After watching the Twi'lek chat along with the two strangers, Syrin began getting bored. To remedy her boredom, she decided she would stir up a little bit of trouble; it didn't help that she was slightly drunk. Syrin slowly walked over to their table, occasionally bumping into people or almost falling over. As she drew near, she heard the man with the fedora mention a datapad; she assumed it was the item the Twi'lek was selling. Though not being fully aware at the moment, she knew how useful datapads could be, especially to criminals.

With a loud thud, Syrin smacked her hand onto the table in which the group was sitting at. She turned over to the Twi'lek and said out loud: "Hey so I see you finally found your customer for that datapad you have!" Syrin made sure she spoke loud enough for most, if not all, of the people in the Cantina, heard her. She then turned to the two men and in the same tone said: "You two must be the buyers, I wonder how many credits you guys are offering?"

 

[Pidge Batana]

Pidge, shuffling through her satchel, was just about to flourish the datapad when a hand slapped loudly down on the table. Looking to see the source of the great noise, she noticed the white haired woman from earlier, who was loudly announcing to the entire cantina that a business deal was about to occur. She appeared to be rather drunk, as she was swaying back and forth and appeared to be clutching the table as if it were a lifeline. The timing could hardly have been worse, but that was probably intentional. Shout a bit louder so the outer rim hears you too, she thought angrily. Pidge could feel her cheeks and lekku blush a bit. It has all been going so well.

Every head in the cantina had swiveled towards her, even the musicians paused for a second before trying to get the crowd’s attention by playing again, rather unsuccessfully. She could hear a few drunk patrons commenting loudly on how they indeed needed a nice datapad, too. A few began to wander over.

“I’m terribly sorry”, Pidge said to Baymon and Zenke. “I suppose you are right about contacts. I really need to find some new ones though. Interrupting my sales isn’t very good form.” Then, looking over to the woman, “What do you want? I don’t tolerate rabble rousers ruining my deals”. She pulled on her mask and flicked to voice scrambler switch. She activated her com. “R4-T6. Get me a speeder on call. Hopefully I won’t need it, but thinks could get messy.”

 

[Baymon Bluevynson]

Music IC

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Pidge moved to get to the bread and butter of this modest meal when a new guest arrived to the table from out of nowhere. For his part, Baymon was positively startled, though gave into little other a reaction than a barrage of blinks the intruder’s way. He recognized her at first sight; the silver-haired Human woman that his Twi’lek contact had been contacting some minutes ago.

Zenke’s reaction, however, was quite something else. His hunched-forward posture that was to be mistaken for nothing else than relaxation suddenly transformed as he bolted upright in his seat, a hand going to his hip beneath the table that Baymon caught with the corner of his eye, and his other hand on the table where the woman had hammered down her own. It would take only instincts and instants from this point for Zenke to react in a much more direct manner, however the next instant made it clear that this other lady had little else on her mind than inebriated musings.

Much to Baymon's surprise, despite how the cantina was pulsating with loud music, folks were dancing, a number were drunk and laughing at their own voices, and shouting about a datapad wasn't all that interesting, everyone paused what they were doing for this new interest and at least a few patrons found it to be nothing but interesting. Oh, great. The jesters come to juggle beside the princess. Perfect.

Unless Pidge had announced to the solar system that she was selling a particular kind of datapad, it was unlikely that anyone would really care to obtain what they probably already thought that they owned. However, the fools coming his way looked like they had gained some levels over the silver-haired beauty when it came to intoxication.

“How’s your juice, Zenke?”

“Sweet.” The two never met gazes as Zenke replied, watching the cantina, but all was said and spoken.

Pidge donned an interesting mask just then, one that did no justice to her otherwise flawless features, but clearly something was going on here.

“What do you want? I don’t tolerate rabble rousers ruining my deals”.

“Say,” Baymon casually followed up with Pidge’s query, sipping from his vodka while looking between the silver-haired gal and the few folks who had just arrived at the table. “Would you and your curious compadres care for a round of drinks?” Or a round of bolts? That works too.


@Kestrel @sayso

 

[Syrin V0ss]

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A hysterical laugh was let out from Syrin after seeing the group's reaction. "People are too uptight nowadays." she thought to herself. Syrin turned her head towards the Twi'lek and flashed a big, but fake, smile; "I just wanted to thank you for those drinks by helping you gain more customers." Syrin then turned her head towards the man in the fedora; her face immediately became serious and a dark, cold, stare would meet the man's eyes. It almost appeared as if she wasn't drunk anymore, and she responded by saying: "No. I've had enough for today."

Seconds past by and Syrin continued to give the man a deathly stare, but in an instant, she immediately had an overly-happy appearance. Of course, it was because a few people began to approach the table. It was a group of three men, and they were clearly going to cause even more trouble. Syrin backed away from the table and made her way out of the Cantina, but she stayed in front of the entrance. "An amateur does a task and goes away, but a professional observes the results."