Nephill Kilner
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2013
- Messages
- 516
- Reaction score
- 1
The Oyu'baat, Mandalore
0400 Hours
Nephill Kilner couldn't even read the labels of the bottles he was drinking. All he knew was that it was costing him a pretty penny.
He knew the barkeep would stop selling him drinks after his perceived limit, as he knew what Neph was capable of drinking himself into. But Neph outsmarted him this time.
He had bought several bottles of tihaar during the day, and snuck into the bar when it was closed. The barkeep was long asleep, and Neph had staggered into one of the darkened bar's booths and turned on the single hanging light and began drinking.
Neph was staying at the bar's adjacent hotel, visiting Mandalore on business. He had to buy supplies for the ranch. But things were weighing down on him. The nightmares kept plaguing him, and despite his newfound devotion in life due to finally finding a home in the Mandalorian Protector cause, he was unhappy.
Simply put, he was lonely. All of his old comrades had long since moved on in life, spread out across the galaxy, and as he was still "new blood" to the Protectors, he still wasn't really in the "in" group yet. Although he did have a few missions under his belt, and he wore the Protector's sigil on his armor proudly. All of his family was dead. Every single one. All he had was distant cousins and such in Aliit Fett. But they were strangers.
No women either. He wasn't on Nar Shaddaa anymore. He couldn't buy a girl for the night on Mandalore in some seedy club. Probably for the best anyways. At least he was managing to hold onto his creds, unlike the past.
His drinking wasn't that bad either. He was almost always sober during the day. It was just here and there, when he couldn't stand the thought of more nightmares, and he got to thinking about osik late at night, that he had to crack open a bottle and drink the night away.
He had already got through one bottle. He was mixing it with juice in a glass so he didn't kill himself straight off by the high alcohol content. As it was, he was quickly moving to his absolute limit. Everything was blurry, and even sitting, he knew he had lost all concept of balance.
As he moved to lift the glass again and drain the last remaining bit, he swayed in his seat, and the glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the booth's bench. Neph's head shot up as adrenaline burst through his veins, waking him considerably. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him here. Especially the barkeep. He knew the man was fed up with him as it was. The Mandalorian peered around the corner of the booth to look, his buy'ce hanging off of his waist utility belt and clattering with the movement.
0400 Hours
Nephill Kilner couldn't even read the labels of the bottles he was drinking. All he knew was that it was costing him a pretty penny.
He knew the barkeep would stop selling him drinks after his perceived limit, as he knew what Neph was capable of drinking himself into. But Neph outsmarted him this time.
He had bought several bottles of tihaar during the day, and snuck into the bar when it was closed. The barkeep was long asleep, and Neph had staggered into one of the darkened bar's booths and turned on the single hanging light and began drinking.
Neph was staying at the bar's adjacent hotel, visiting Mandalore on business. He had to buy supplies for the ranch. But things were weighing down on him. The nightmares kept plaguing him, and despite his newfound devotion in life due to finally finding a home in the Mandalorian Protector cause, he was unhappy.
Simply put, he was lonely. All of his old comrades had long since moved on in life, spread out across the galaxy, and as he was still "new blood" to the Protectors, he still wasn't really in the "in" group yet. Although he did have a few missions under his belt, and he wore the Protector's sigil on his armor proudly. All of his family was dead. Every single one. All he had was distant cousins and such in Aliit Fett. But they were strangers.
No women either. He wasn't on Nar Shaddaa anymore. He couldn't buy a girl for the night on Mandalore in some seedy club. Probably for the best anyways. At least he was managing to hold onto his creds, unlike the past.
His drinking wasn't that bad either. He was almost always sober during the day. It was just here and there, when he couldn't stand the thought of more nightmares, and he got to thinking about osik late at night, that he had to crack open a bottle and drink the night away.
He had already got through one bottle. He was mixing it with juice in a glass so he didn't kill himself straight off by the high alcohol content. As it was, he was quickly moving to his absolute limit. Everything was blurry, and even sitting, he knew he had lost all concept of balance.
As he moved to lift the glass again and drain the last remaining bit, he swayed in his seat, and the glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the booth's bench. Neph's head shot up as adrenaline burst through his veins, waking him considerably. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him here. Especially the barkeep. He knew the man was fed up with him as it was. The Mandalorian peered around the corner of the booth to look, his buy'ce hanging off of his waist utility belt and clattering with the movement.