A Jedi walked into a bar...

[Dread]

Blythe listened to why he didn't want to take the amulet off. She had to go over his words in her mind a few times, because she was a bit surprised with his reaction. It seemed she had made a mistake, "To be honest, I haven't had extended conversations with none-force sensitives in years." There was a reason she said this, "I guess I didn't realize it would seem as though I would just go ahead and forcefully dig around in your head. And I wont try to explain what I actually meant by wanting to feel you through the force - obviously you're not overly-interested in that kind of thing." After she finished, she started to think about something, would she have read his mind if she had gotten the chance? Perhaps...no, most likely. Now she wanted too. Deep down she felt guilty after these thoughts, but didn't allow herself to show it.

"Monument Plaza actually sounds interesting. I'll make sure to put time aside to study about it." It was just one of those kind of answers, you know, the kind that was just simply that, and not over thought out.

Deacon had offered a team, but Blythe knew better then to just accept an offer like that out of the blue, "I'll think about it. You're here often, yes? So I could just stop by, some day, and see if your here." This was a start to her saying good bye to him, she wanted to thank him properly before just darting out. It was starting to feel as though it was the perfect time to leave. He had hurt her in a way, now she him, or so it seemed like it to her, by the way he had gotten defensive over her request. Clearly, she wasn't sure if she was willing to risk the possibility of stepping on his toes by mistake once again.

She shook her head when he asked about her drink, "I think I'll call it a night." With only a bit of force, she used her hand to push her plate to the side. Blythe leaned forward, and reached out across the table. Hopefully she could put her hand down at the back of Deacon's hand. Her thin wrist would be exposed, though, because of the awkward position she'd put herself in it would pull back her sleeve.

If she was successful she'd stay in that position and look up to give him a light-hearted smile for the last time. "Thanks for everything." It was a simple thanks, but she didn't know any better way to say it, "Good bye, Deacon."

 

[GABA]

"Seger Goran, Mercenary, since you both seem keen now handing out titles. Now what brings both of you to this cantina?"

*Seger took another gulp of his drink, draining the glass, and he filled it again from the bottle he had took him the bar.*

"What goodings a titles if notting ofing use?" she mumbled underneath her breath taking another drink of her ale. She listened to Malz speak about his purpose here, but she had felt a brief pull in the Force. Her eyes landed on a table with a particular individual with a glowing red cybernetic eye. The knight gave a suspicious glare before turning her attention to her company. "Why-ing heres?" she asked aloud, "If Jedi wanting to drinks, why notting. Iam's paying customer." she smiled, "Whating bringing Mr. Goran to heres? The Dancers?" she asked still with a smile.

 

[Saint]

Deacon understood better once Blythe explained about how she hadn't really had any sort of meaningful conversation with a non-force user like himself. Dwelling on the idea a little longer, it did make sense why she would request so a thing of him. Still though, he wasn't entirely sure that he was ready for that. Not for an extended period of time anyway.

When she commented about Monument Plaza, Deacon replied as he lifted his chin, his tone less business-like now and a bit more soft, "Jus' make sure tha' when you go, you allow me t'escort you about. I would... appreciate such a gesture." He thought about adding GREATLY, but decided not to play too strong of a hand right not. He didn't want to seem desperate.

Nodding lightly at her remark about his offer for the team, he further added, "I 'spose I could even cut you a discount on the service; so long as you're... nice about it." With that, he let slip a crooked little grin, warm gaze from his one good eye resting on her facial features, a bit searchingly.

When she said that she was going to call it a night, reaching across the table to touch his hand, Deacon didn't resist or pull away. Regardless of what had just transpired over the past few minutes, her touch was still electrifying. It was a shame that this first meeting had ended this way. Perhaps they could reconcile during a second? Perhaps... who knew.

Deacon rose from his chair as Blythe thanked him and gave him a light-hearted smile. In return to her good-bye, he made to lay his other hand atop of hers, then turn his bottom hand palm up in order to gently hold Blythe's. If allowed, he meant to lean forward and place a soft, tender kiss atop the back of her hand as he replied back, "Good bye for now Lady Blythe. The pleasure was all mine."

With that he would allow her hand to slip from between his own once she decided to rise and draw away, if she did. However it ended, Deke was going to do his best now to make sure that it at least ended with him playing the role of a gentleman, regardless of the small wounds they had shared. Perhaps their ability to inflict such upon each other was a good sign? Perhaps. Whatever the case, it certainly didn't feel all that grand right about now. He found himself wishing that it were a earlier in the evening, right when she had approached him with that Galaxy Rush she had bought him. If only you could reverse time....

 

[Dread]

It seemed Deacon had understood her explanation, or at least somewhat; he looked like he had calmed down after he offered to escort her to Monument Plaza. As softly as she could, she sighed, her posture physically relaxing after. However, she didn't give him a yes or no, or any type of real answer in return.

Then he moved onto an offer that lead to the most suggestive comment that he'd said during the night. Right away she shot him a glare, but it was accompanied by a crooked grin of her own. Her expression was followed by her saying his name, "Deacon..." with an unapproving tone.

The mood switched over as he took her by her hand. Blythe hadn't expected it, she couldn't sense his movements. Her hand jerked slightly, but not enough to pull away. Attempting to escape watching Deacon as he kissed her hand, she looked to the side. "Uh..." was the only answer she could muster up in return. Truly, she wasn't use to this treatment.

Soon Blythe stood, tipping her head to one side well giving Deacon a wave with her left hand. She'd leave now...but to where she didn't know. It wasn't like she planned to go back to the temple yet. Maybe she'd sleep on her ship for the night.

It took some quick foot work, but soon she was progressing through the busy crowd to the cantina's exit without much trouble. Some worries past her mind about if she'd actually see Deacon again. Her life wasn't exactly the safest, and she doubted his was either. After a second she decided she'd just be happy with the night, and let go of any worry about the future.

((OOC EDIT: Hey, now that my character is gone, you might want to open your thread again, to let another character in. Just an idea))

 

[Raider]

*Seger didn't have much to say to the Malz's story. He'd heard charity stories like it before. Noble hearted people venturing off into some slum or another to aid the sick, downtrodden, helpless, and weak. Plenty of times those same noble hearted people got frightened or mugged or robbed or stabbed or shot or a combination of that and more in those slums. He supposed someone with actual mystic powers would have a better attempt than most others would though. It was strange to him however that a medic with magical healing powers would set up a healthcare clinc in a slum while the government and order he served were waging war. The man was probably a pacifist and didn't want to heal soldier who'd be sent back out onto the battlefield.*

"Kind of you."

*Was the curt reply he give. His eyes flicked to the female Jedi, Rehni, who'd murmured he'd failed to catch due to the noise of the cantina. He doubted it was anything kind. He smiled back at her however as she spoke. Oh things were different here in the Core.*

"The dancers, the drinks, and a lack of anything to do at the moment is what brings me here Jedi. Now you being here, in this cantina, as a paying customer is something I haven't seen before. And I've seen a lot of things."

 

[Saint]

Deacon remained standing as his gaze never left Blythe as she departed his table. A light sorrow crossed over his heart as his countenance fell ever so slightly. That hadn't ended at all the way that he had hoped, but at least it was more positive than what it could've been. Taking a deep breath, Deke attempted to exhale whatever tension there was left from the end of their... encounter.

Laying a hand over his heart, he slowly eased back down into his chair; his head slumping forward once seated as he closed his eyes. He sincerely hoped that they would meet again. She knew where to find him, but would that be enough? The ball was entirely in her court now, though Deacon found himself wishing it were the other way around. Had it been, he probably would've called on her within a few days, if not the end of the week. Who knows?

What was it about that whole encounter that had him feeling such a way? He'd only -just- met her rather coincidentally, and even so, they certainly had some pretty serious differing beliefs. Regardless though, he felt as if he'd been shot by the tiniest of invisible arrows. He wasn't love-struck or anything, but he certainly wanted to get to know her more, as well as spend a considerable amount more time with her.

This was all very curious. He turned his attention back over to the table of Jedi. They hadn't gone anywhere. Probably wouldn't be for awhile. Suddenly noticing the smell of the food before him, Deke noted that his hunger had returned. Good, the steak was still relatively warm. Picking up his knife and fork, he dug right in and began to enjoy the rest of his meal. Hers would probably sit and be taken away later, but for now, his was absolutely delicious. He'd sleep -very- well tonite; hopefully with a good dream as well. He smiled to himself as he chewed on a bite, thoughts flickering to Blythe, the wandering Jedi. Huh...

 

[GABA]

"The dancers, the drinks, and a lack of anything to do at the moment is what brings me here Jedi. Now you being here, in this cantina, as a paying customer is something I haven't seen before. And I've seen a lot of things."

"Glads I canning cross 'Payings Jedi' off your list." she said with simple bow of her head. She adjusted her chair slightly so she could have the red-eyed man in her view. The knight had felt an odd aura in that direction; she saw a young female leave the table and left the man alone. Her own mind started probing the area for any hints that would calm her uncertainty. "Notting any 'Jedi Business'" she paused, "as ofing yet...Even those ining the Order need a breaks. Having notting ofing things to do is notting always bad. I hears relaxing every nows and agains ising a good thing." she turned to Malz, "Thinking the Healer woulding agrees?"

 

[Kuran]

Juisk had lost focus on the conversations around him, deep in thought, until a voice broke his concentration.

"I hears relaxing every nows and agains ising a good thing."

He nodded and smiled,

"Definitley it is, maybe that's why i'm here....."

He had been talking more to himself, but he realised that he had spoken aloud and had the good sense to look suitably chastized by the knights.

 

[Saint]

Finishing up his steak and fixings, Deacon laid a hand over his stomach, Krath that meal was good... Blythe's lasagna still sat there, undisturbed since she left. Apparently the waitress didn't want to touch it just yet, and that was fine by Deke... until now. Picking up her lasagna, he slipped his own empty plate under it and laid his silverware atop, clearly indicating now that it was okay to come gather the dishes.

It wasn't but a few moments and the Rutian Twi'lek approached, retrieving the plates as she inquired politely, "Everything good for you Sir?" Her smile was simple and friendly enough, though her gaze passed briefly over the table, noting his drink... or lack thereof. Gesturing towards it, she further asked, "Get you another refill?"

Nodding his head lightly, Deacon patted his stomach as he replied, "My compliments to the chef. It was in fact, -very- good. Best I've had on Coruscant t'date." He smiled up at her warmly. His face seemed to light up at the mention of his drink. "Mos' certainly. Le's go back to tha' Galaxy Rush again if you please." The waitress replied with a simple, "Of course Sir. I'll be back in a moment," and with that, she cleared most of his table.

Deacon's mind wandered back to Blythe again, ever the more curious about her now. It began to dawn on him slowly that she had left him here with a considerable amount of knowledge regarding herself. She wasn't a Jedi, that much was certain, but was she a Bogan? The implications were certainly there. And here she had departed with him having such knowledge.

That was either risky, or trusting on her part. Well... probably both. She didn't seem the type to flaunt that type of information around. He found himself wondering if he'd ever see her again... Huh... His gaze shifted back down to the table for a moment. His menu! Dessert... With a couple of quick flips, he spotted a small dish of flan. It looked delicious. A good way to end the night's meal... considering. A shame he wouldn't be sharing it with anyone. A shame...

 

[Malz]

Kind of you? Kind of you? That was hardly the response Malz usually gets. Usually it's massive praise, flowers sent from every direction, maybe even someone forming a new religion about him. Granted he never particularly enjoyed this kind of attention; he was just happy to help. Still, it felt good that people appreciated duty. It made him think that perhaps they would do the same for another some day. But a simple "Kind of you?" He slumped in his seat a bit and continued drinking his water, almost in a pout.

He noticed a presence drifting away, and the angry Force Sensitive left the bar. He felt a tad more relaxed, but the one he couldn't sense was still here. Worse, Rehni seems to have taken an interest. This could turn ugly, and Malz was really not in any position to hold back a tipsy Jedi.

 

[Saint]

The Rutian Twi'lek waitress brought back a Galaxy Rush to Deacon's table, setting it before him as she quirked an inquisitive look, noting that he had picked up the menu. "Find somethin' tha' strikes your fancy?" she inquired in a light-hearted tone as he cocked a half-smile playfully at him. Deacon chuckled as he nodded, laying the menu down as he pointed, "Yes actually, th' Flan y'have there. That an' half a glass of... well..." He looked over at the drink she had just brought him, then, waving a dismissive hand, continued, "Jus' the Flan please. Tha'll do."

She smiled while retrieving the menu, replying with a "As y'like, Sir." Then she walked away. Throughout this whole time, Deacon hadn't noticed her scantily-clad form or sauntering gait. His mind was still lost... or focused.. whichever have you... elsewhere. He couldn't keep this up all night. There was business to tend to and Jedi to observe. Not that they'd really do anything, or that he'd actually do anything either. Deke just found them curious to watch. Some folks rendered them as demi-gods among insects. To him, they were just unfairly blessed. Hmph.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. Perhaps he should move away from this table and back to the bar. Maybe that would help him get his mind off of Blythe and back onto business, as the empty seat sitting across from him just seemed to stare at him, where she had been sitting only minutes ago. Taking a good-sized drink of his Galaxy Rush, Deke pushed his chair back and rose, making his way to the bar. He didn't bother attempting to locate his waitress to let her know that he had moved. It wasn't like his face was an easily forgettable one.

Slipping up onto a stool, Deacon ensured that he was on the far-side of the bar from the Jedi's table. Grabbing up a bar napkin, he lightly salted it before setting his drink atop it; that would keep it from sticking to the bottom of the glass, which was such an annoying thing to have happen... at least in Deacon's mind. Looked rather foolish, a person drinking a glass with a bar napkin stuck to the bottom. Silly even. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked the viewscreens to see if any new swoop races were on that he might place a small wager. Maybe he'd get lucky.... Maybe.

 

[GABA]

Rehni could push off every prying eye except his, she could see him, but couldn't touch him with the Force. She watched him leave his table and go back to the bar, but out her sight. The knight tipped back her glass and drained the last of her drink. A good opportunity to go to the bar herself. She politely excused herself from the table and walked up to the bar, she saw the red-eyed man flanked by two beings. She pushed on their minds and one got up and left and Rehni took the seat next to Deacon. She waved to the bar tender and got herself another pint of ale.

Her attention turned to Deacon, "You ising the only prying eyes I canning notting push away." she told him taking a drink.

 

[Saint]

Deacon had found a swoop racer that he thought he could win some creds on by placing a bet. Warbling Wombat. While busy fiddling with placing his bet, one of the Jedi had apparently left their table and walked up to the bar, finding a spot that had been filled only a moment ago. Just as Deke had secured his wager of five thousand creds, she began talking to him. At first, he didn't know who she was until his gaze turned in her direction, noting the robes. Ah Krath... he thought to himself. Go figure...

Tapping the right side of his head, right on the metal of his cybernetic eye, Deke replied, "Maybe tha's cause I only hav' one eye. This 'un ain't real." Giving a humored smirk and a wink with his good eye, he turned his full attention to the female Jedi. Didn't seem like she had the Padawan's braid, and as he recalled, that other Padawan had referred to her as Master. Double Grand!! Lifting his Galaxy Rush up to take a drink, Deacon inquired as he quirked an eyebrow, "So what brings you into a place like this?" Aside from screwing with peoples' minds he thought to himself, as she had pretty much admitted to doing so when she first addressed him.

Yup, he was thankful that he had his talisman. Moments like this made it all definitely worth it. Just then, the Rutian Twi'lek found him and set his small plate of Flan before him atop the bar. "There you are Sir. Enjoy." Deacon turned to face her as he dipped his forehead, replying, "Thank-you kin'ly miss. 'Preciate it." Turning his attention back to the Jedi, he gestured towards the Flan as he questioned, "Care for an order? It's -quite- good." Though he picked up his fork, Deke refrained from taking a bite of his dessert, just in case the Jedi Master next to him decided that she would like one too. If she did, then he'd wait until hers arrived as well before digging into his own. It was a cool dish anyway, and didn't require one to eat it while still hot or half-frozen.

 

[GABA]

Rehni raised an eyebrow to his one-eyed fake eye remark and shook her head, "Why ising I's here?" she asked aloud, "Simples, I wasing wanting a drink." she shrugged, "Jedi ising allowed to getting out ofing the temple every nows and agains." Rehni replied, he had asked her whether she wanted a desert in mid-sentence and the Jedi shook her head 'no' while she had spoken, "So what ising that bringing yous here? The deserts?" she asked, then peeked to his betting ticket, "Or's losing youring credits to the Warbling Wombat?" she tipped her head to the screen and within a few seconds the Warbling Wombat was clipped, spun out of control and exploded on the screen.

 

[Saint]

It certainly wasn't Deacon's intention to interrupt the female Jedi, but between the drinks he had already consumed, her sudden arrival at his side, and his excitement over the Flan that he was looking forward to enjoying; it just kind of slipped out. Oopz!! Turning his attention to the view screen just as the Jedi had mentioned about his bet, Deke was about to say something about how the Warbling Wombat had a pretty strong track record, and while not favored to take first in this race, he was certainly a strong contender, falling about second or third. Every dog had its day, right?

Well, apparently today wasn't the day. Quirking an eyebrow at the Jedi as he turned his view from the screen, his bet losing control and crashing into the wall, killing the driver, Deacon inquired, "I certainly hope that wasn't you displaying your Jedi abilities and ending that man's life." He quirked a half-grin, suspecting that it wasn't, but nonetheless throwing the little jab out there, testing the waters so to speak. He turned his attention back to the screen once again, the remains of the driver splattered across the wall. Head over on one side, arm over to the side, half a leg still twitching next to the wreckage. It wasn't pretty. Then again, Swoop Bike races weren't exactly known as the safest sport either.

Shaking his head lightly before taking a drink of his Galaxy Rush, Deacon went on, "I didn't say you weren't allowed to come here. I jus' asked what brought you here, as I typically don't see too many Jedi down at this establishment." Nodding over towards the table she had just come from moments ago, Deke added, "Especially padawans. I kinda figured ya'll had a private bar of your own in the Temple somewhere, or at least on grounds nearby where ya'll hung out t'gether. Not with us... riff-raff." He quirked another humored smirk at his referral to himself and those within the cantina.

Taking a bite of his Flan, he answered her question after swallowing it. Krath it was delicious! "Like mos' folks in 'ere, I come here t'hang-out, watch the races, lose a little money, sometimes make some, enjoy a few drinks, an' their Mongo beefhead sliders aren't too bad either." He rubbed his stomach as he said that last part, smiling contentedly over at the female Jedi. He was still full from the sliders, but when it came to Flan, he -always- had just a little bit more room, heh.

 

[GABA]

Rehni watched the screen for a few more moments before she turned away as the announcers begun showing the crash in slow motion, detail after detail. She took a few drinks of her ale. "No, notting ins my tastes to doing so, I'ms notting cruel liking that." she replied, "Asing fors a private bar? Ha! Alcohol ising notting allowed ons the temple grounds. This hasing beens my favoriting place since I wasing a padawan, just to coming and be...wells, normals, getting the business ofing the Order off my minds." she shrugged, "Sometimes I perfering the riff-raff, they ising notting all bad." she smiled, her eyes shot elsewhere for a moment feeling someone watching her, she turned back to Deacon, "I'm's Rehni Tak'n, Jedi Knght." she introduced herself.

 

[Saint]

Extending a hand in greeting, Deacon replied in turn as he made to give her a relatively firm handshake, "Deacon Nash. Riff-raff extraordinaire." He offered a cheeky grin as he added that last part, a playful twinkle in his good eye. One thing he did catch in her introduction though, was that she called herself a Jedi Knight... not a Master. Not surprising, the padawan was probably mistaken. A Jedi Knight was sure to know the difference between their rank and that of a Master, heh.

Taking another bite of his Flan, Deke further inquired, curiosity struck by the remark about alcohol, "Seems a bit curious t'me... Alcohol not being allowed on Temple grounds. Have there been problems with tha' in th' past?" Deacon wasn't a religious person by any means, so the idea of not having Alcohol because the place was an actual Temple didn't even come to mind. Taking a sip of his Galaxy Rush, he soon turned his attention back to the female Jedi after his own eyes attempted to follow her brief, distracted glance. He didn't see anything.

 

[Malz]

Malz wanted to stop Rehni from going up to the man, worried that there would be a brawl within moments, but he couldn't get to her in time. He bit his bottom lip anxiously for a moment before returning his attention to the padawan and mercenary sitting with him. The mercenary he wasn't worried about, but the padawan wouldn't need to get involved. After a while though, it seemed as if, from afar, they were simply having pleasant conversation.

Malz let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps they were talking about rainbows or something! Yeah, totally. He smiled to his two table-mates and asked, "So what made you decide to become a mercenary, Mister Goran?"

 

[GABA]

She took his hand and shook it, but still couldn't get read on the man. "Goods to meeting you Deacon."

She felt her fellow Knight's presence focus on her but she pushed back against it, letting him know things are under control. Her attention turned back to Deacon, "No, the Jedi Temple ising liking any others institution wheres alcohol ising prohibited," she shrugged, "If yous wanting to drinks, then you goes out. Kinding ofing like the policies you seeing at Coruscant University and suches." she explained, "Really nothings un-ordinaries though." she took another drink of her ale, "No problems though." she told Deacon searching for him again with the Force, her eyes were guided to the pendent he wore.

 

[Saint]

Deacon grunted lightly in response to her explanation as he turned a bit back towards the counter. She hadn't attempted to further the conversation with any question or such; instead just letting it fade with an answer, then leaving everything at that. Deke was more than content to leave it lie. Talking to Jedi in a setting like this wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

Just then, another round of Swoop Races populated the view screen overhead. A name caught his attention and Deacon began to reach into a pocket to retrieve a credit chip. He wanted to attempt to make up for the earlier loss. As he leaned to one side to retrieve the chip, his gaze passed briefly to Rehni, back to the view screen, then diverted back to her once again, his whole body pausing as something hit him.

Nope, he wasn't going to make a bet this time on the races. Not with her sitting right there. Perhaps she didn't have anything to do with the previous race that involved the explosive accident and fiery death of the Warbling Wombat, but Deacon wasn't about to take his chances. For the sake of his credits and the sake of whatever driver he would bet on. That just didn't seem right. Tucking his chip back away, he turned his full attention back to the view screen, this time just as an observer as opposed to a betting man, and took a small drink of his Galaxy Rush. Krath it was good.