Just Another Day...

[Kring]

Kring sat in another cantina. They all seemed to be the same... They were loud, smelled of sweat, perfume and alcohol all mixed together. This was one of his favorite places in the galaxy. Here he could relax, get some rum and sometimes, find a bit of adventure.
The pirate sat at the bar nursing his second mug of rum and enjoying the atmosphere... It was evening and the crowd was beginning to thicken, which made the pirate even more excited.

Outside the cantina, aptly named The Broken Mug the rain continued to fall, which brought even more people in for some rest and refreshments...

@41PH4_

 

[Jorr]

Jorr walked the rainy streets of Coruscant, occasionally getting dirty looks and rude jeers as people looked at him and realized his mixed heritage. Weather they knew WHAT species he was a mix of or not it was pretty evident that he was a hybrid. He did not really care anymore, it had bothered him when he was younger -not that the twenty year old hybrid was not still young- but now it just rolled off his shoulders.

He decided to duck into a cantina to warm up and dry off for a bit, being a mix of Quarren and Nautolan he didn't mind being wet. Loved water. But Coruscant was a little colder than Darlyn Boda and he was in need of a drink.

Of course as soon as he entered half the cantina stopped what they were doing to stare at him as he stood there, water dripping from his head tails and tentacles and glistening on his bare orange arms. A couple people sized him up, something that happened often enough to the hulking alien. Another few people commented on the swirling white tattoos and he DEFINITELY heard at least one person mutter something about him beimg an idiot for dressing how he was in this weather. Which if one was less familiar with the aquatic races of the galaxy would make sense. Pants, boots, a sleeveless shirt and a cape with some hand wraps extending up the forearms was not really something smart to wear in the heavy rain.

He walked over to the bar and ordered a bottle of the best rum in the house. And with a wave if his hand and a little use of the force that bottle -and anything else he ordered for the time he was there- would be free.

"Thanks mate."

He chuckled as he took the bottle and un-corked it with his top two fangs, spitting the cork into a nearby trash receptacle. He turned his back to the bar and leaned against it as he took a big drink of his rum and looked out over the patrons to see if there were any shenanigans he could get involved in.

 

[Kring]

Kring glanced at the entrance to the cantina when everyone stopped. They were all enthralled by the... whatever it was, standing in the doorway. The pirate on the other hand didn’t care, he had seen so many different species from traveling through the galaxy that one more didn’t phase him in the least.

As the (he thought fish guy) got to the bar and ordered a rum, Kring looked over and raised his mug in greeting.
“Pay no mind ta tha rabble starin’ at ya. They prob’ly don’t even know what their own mothers look like.”

 

[Nanko Darr]

"Blast you too you nerf herder!" Darr yelled as he backed into the cantina.

The reporter looked down and brushed the water off of his jacket and on to the dirty floor of the establishment. He had gotten pushed into this cantina, he might as well make himself look professional. He walked up to the bar stools and took a seat. There were actually quite a few open chairs. Darr decided to choose the one furthest from anyone else. He ordered a bottle and hung his head. He had just let one of the biggest stories of the year away. All because he accidentally got the appartment number wrong and knocked on the door of a Gamorrean man instead of a Togruta.

He looked to his left and saw two burly men conversing. He did not take much attention to them.

He sat and drank and read the news stories of his competitor reporters

 

[Michael Drake]

Michael Drake barged through the doorway of the cantina, a scowl plastered to his handsome face. Rain had plastered his ordinarily well-groomed hair to his forehead, and stray drops cascaded down his crimson jacket. It had nearly washed away the spice residue around his nose, but a few stray particles of the orange narcotic still remained. He appeared to be the very manifestation of annoyed, which, in addition to his already arrogant persona, would make for a very volatile mix indeed.

As his blue eyes scoured the room for anything remotely dangerous, his prosthetic hand never left the grip of his MH31 Blaster, which resided in a holster strapped to his hip. Drake walked with a subtle swagger as he approached the bar, idly brushing the hair off of his face with his free hand, and took a seat off to the side. He ordered his drink of choice--a hard liquor called Hull Stripper--and brooded. He glanced over at the two men conversing, but decided to let them be. His focus instead turned to Nanko Dar (@41PH4_ ), the out-of-place reporter, who Drake was instantly suspicious of. Either by some gut instinct or by sheer boredom, Drake grabbed his drink and moved over to where the reporter was sitting, and took a stool two seats away from the man.

"Can't say that I've seen you here before." Drake said evenly. Looks could be deceiving, and it was possible that the man could very-well be an outlaw in sheeps clothing--it was safer not to jump to hostilities. The outlaw glanced down at Darr's clothing, and then at the news article he was reading. "Broken Mug's a damn strange place to read the news, isn't it?"

 

[Jorr]

Jorr chuckled at the human...he guessed pirate's words. Glad to see SOMEONE on this planet had a decent head on their shoulders.

"Well, I ain't ever laid eyes on me father. So at least we have that in common." he joked before taking a big drink.

He watched the other two come in, the second looking shifty as a Bantha on Hoth. And decided he would keep an eye on that encounter as he spoke to his new acquaintance.

"Name's Jorr"

 

[Nanko Darr]

Darr looked up from his data pad toward the one sitting next to him. "It's been a rough night."

He looked back down at his pad. The writers from his rival company had written a fantastic story on the recent increase in break-ins lately. That was supposed to be MY story... Darr thought angrily to himself. He took another drink from his glass and ordered another round for himself.

"Can't say I've seen you before either," Darr replied to the man next to him. "Don't suppose you have any secret details on any popping news lately huh?" The reporter laughed at his last statement as it was obviously far-fetched, and took another swig of his drink.

 

[Kring]

Jorr chuckled at the human...he guessed pirate's words. Glad to see SOMEONE on this planet had a decent head on their shoulders.

"Well, I ain't ever laid eyes on me father. So at least we have that in common." he joked before taking a big drink.

He watched the other two come in, the second looking shifty as a Bantha on Hoth. And decided he would keep an eye on that encounter as he spoke to his new acquaintance.

"Name's Jorr"

The pirate nodded with a grin, "Pleased ta meet ya. I'm called Kring." He also glanced over at the two at the other end of the bar but turned his attention back to Jorr. "So if'n ya don't mind me askin… What brings ya into this establishment?" with the last comment he gestured with his mug to the rest of the cantina.

 

[Michael Drake]

"Well, other than the Republic practically declaring war with the Hutt Cartel, which you probably already know of, don't think there's much I can tell you."

Drake shrugged, deciding to change tactics and lighten up somewhat. This man seemed to be a reporter of sorts, and if there was one profession that was beneficial to a smuggler, it was an informant. Perhaps this man knew some insider information... or maybe Drake could help him out with his problem, and make a little cash in the process. Either way, the outlaw smelled opportunity, and decided to press the attack, metaphorically speaking.

"You some kind of reporter? Journalist maybe? Either way, you'd probably know more about what's been happenin' than I do, I'd reckon." Drake brushed his prosthetic hand through his hair again, and casually glanced over his shoulder at the two men conversing at the other side of the room, getting the sensation that they were being watched. "I just got back from Ryloth anyways. Maybe you can catch me up on what's been goin' on here on Coruscant."

 

[Jorr]

Jorr like this Kring fellows style, slighly lound, unabashful and peppered with exaggerated gestures. The man reminded him of his grandfather.

"Oh nothin' much really. I been skippin' around from rock ta rock fer a while now."

He was not quite ready to tell Kring about his quest to find his father, or find out who his fathet was if the man had passed away. It was kind of a big deal to just dump on someone you had just met.

"What about yourself?

 

[Kring]

“Me?” Kring grinned as he drank more of his rum. “I’m ere for the rum... and ta see if ther’s any trouble ta be havin.”
After draining his mug, the pirate ordered another rum, and once it came, he raised the mug in a half salute then drank again.
“Do ye have a ship mate?”

 

[Nanko Darr]

Darr didn't say anything. His normally quippy attitude was swallowed up by his sorrow and his bottle. Instead he just slid his datapad over to the man a few seats away.

He currently had a story on the recent vote for war against the hutts open. The report told of how agressive the debates had been. This issue surely brought a divide to the sytems of the republic. Darr himself did not know where he stood on the matter. He hinself, a citizen of the republic, was unaware he was speaking with someone of the hutt cartel.

 

[Michael Drake]

Drake took the datapad and read intently for a while. Most of the details were fluff--standard Senatorial drama and rhetoric. While Drake only possessed a basic understanding of politics, he was an opportunistic man, and knew enough to realize that war could affect the galactic economy drastically. As the Grand Army of the Republic mobilized, there'd be shipments to interdict, plans to sabotage, agreements to exploit, and perhaps most importantly, a plethora of smuggling opportunities under martial law.

The reporter seemed like an honest man, regardless of his political stance. While Drake didn't have any specific advice for him, he could at least offer his opinions on the matter of work. "You said you were lookin' for good stories? Here's my advice: get off Coruscant. There'll be a thousand other reporters going for the same kriffin' political stories as you are, and chances are someone'll get the scoop before you do. Go to the Outer Rim, check out Ryloth, Zygerria, Nar Shaddaa." Drake slid the datapad back to Darr. "That's where the Hutts are strong. If war's really starting, then that's where the action'll be. Of course, war reporting isn't for everyone, but take it from me: Outer Rim's a helluva lot more exciting than the Core."

 

[Jorr]

"Yessir I do. Old Z-13 called the Freeseeker. Inherited her from my grandfather."

If there was two things Jorr was proud of it was his grandfathers ship and the Vibro-sabre he had built. Both of which he kept perfectly maintained.

"Got an old astromech too but it don't talk none. Think its vocabulator is busted an' its a kriffer of a part to replace."

Jorr took another swig of his rum, savoring the burn as the liquor trickled down his throat. He didn't much like Coruscant but they had some damn fine rum if you could afford it, or convince someone to give it up for free.

"Why? Need a ride somewheres?"

 

[Kring]

Kring took another drink from his mug. “I’m always lookin for an opportunity ta make some credits. And ifn ya gots a ship, then you’re in prime position to do so.”
The pirate looked behind him, then down at the bar to make sure no one was listening, then he turned back to Jorr. “There’s a shipment I’m needin ta get from an old friend of mine. Sad thing is, I don’t have a ship just yet... Would ye like ta help me out mate?”

 

[Nanko Darr]

The reporter looked up at the man.

"Trust me pal. I'm pretty good at gettin' off Coruscant to find the story I'm looking for... war reporting is what I do."

The reporter looked past the man sitting close to him and noticed a couple men speaking with each other a little further away. Darr had picked up a few times where one of them or the other one would take a little glance over at him or the other man and then look down again. It had officially gotten Nanko's attention. His reporting nature pushed him to learn more.

"One moment" Darr said to the man he was speaking with.

He stood up from his stool and grabbed his datapad. He walked over to the two burly men and placed the pad down on the table. The page about the war, still up on the screen.

"Couldn't help but notice you two interested in my conversation over there."

 

[Michael Drake]

Drake raised an eyebrow at the man's statement, but didn't say anything upon his departure, instead turning back to his drink. Even for an experienced alcoholic such as Drake, Hull Stripper was a formidable liquor indeed, and he inwardly mused about how fortunate he was that the Reporter hadn't seen him wince as the drink made its way down his throat. The sharpness of the drink helped to snap him out of his spice-induced reverie. He shook his head briefly to clear his mind, and then turned around to see exactly what it was the man had left for. Drake ran his prosthetic hand through his hair once more as he subtly analyzed the duo the man had approached.

On the opposite side of the bar there were two figures, one human and one Quarren--though something looked unusual about the latter--who'd been talking since he'd arrived at the bar. Drake had taken particular notice of them earlier, but hadn't bothered to listen in to their conversation, for privacy's sake and whatnot. As Darr approached them, Drake's instincts flared up once more. At first, he'd mistaken the reporter for a cop due to how out-of-place he looked in a dive like this, but those suspicions had been largely alleviated: he just wasn't Coruscanti PD material. Those men at the other side of the bar were, however, almost certainly the unscrupulous type that The Broken Mug was infamous for. If they wanted trouble with the reporter, shit could get ugly... and if they wanted trouble with Drake, things would get uglier still.

Michael stood up, setting the empty glass down on the table, and made his way towards the trio. He'd unstrapped his holster as a precautionary measure, but he didn't go with any intentions to start hostilities. Instead, he casually leaned against a nearby wall so as to appear non-confrontational, and called out to the group. "There a problem here fellas?" he asked, a smirk flashing across his face. His tone was friendly, and his smile seemed genuine, but his unwavering blue eyes spoke volumes about his resolve.

 

[Kring]

Kring"s head came up from his mug as a man with a datapad stepped up to where they were at. He didn't really care that it had happened, but to interrupt a conversation was a tad rude. He was about to say something about that when another man, leaning against the wall like he owned the place, addressed them and asked them if there was a "problem."

The pirate actually laughed. "A problem?" He looked at Jorr then back at the man... Kring noticed his holstered blaster was unstrapped for some reason. "Me friend and I are havin a bit of a converse, and you come here with yer weapon unlocked," then he gestured with his mug to the one with the datapad, "and this one interrupts us bein all peaceful like. And you ask us if there be a problem?" He took another drink and set the mug down. "Ye may want ta calm yerself down a bit lad, we are just 'ere fer a few mugs."
Kring turned and faced the one leaning against the wall and rubbed his cybernetic arm absentmindedly, "But if'n yer lookin fer somethin ta do, I'm always ready ta oblige ya."

 

[Nanko Darr]

"Is this a bad time for a few questions men?"

Darr had always been a fan of impromptu interviews. There was nothing like asking the hard-hitting questions to someone who had never planned on being questioned that day. It was this sense of spontaneity that really brought about the great stories. You always know what you are going to get when talking to a politician or even a criminal at an interrogation, they knew that they would be getting questioned and were prepared to answer. Not with this style, this wild card style. Darr loved it.

Normally, this situation would be perfect for some questions, but now that an unhooked plaster was in the equation, there needed to be much more carefulness in the movements of the reporter. The last thing he wanted to do was to say the wrong thing and end up with a shot a lazer go through his vital organs. Not that that wasn't always a goal of Darr's, but you know what he means.

"As long as this grand fellow here puts his blaster in check, we can all go about a normal conversation." Darr said trying to ease up the slight tensions in the encounter.

 

[Michael Drake]

Drake glanced over at Darr, who didn't seem fazed about the situation at all, and then back to Kring, who he'd seemingly misjudged by assuming he'd jump to hostilities. Maybe spending the past two years in the Outer Rim had changed him... it wasn't like him to let inebriation cloud his judgement. Still, it was better to be cautious than to be dead. Drake's prosthetic arm dropped down to his hip, where he strapped his blaster back into its holster, and then concealed it within the folds of his crimson jacket.

"My apologies then." he said, nodding his head at Kring slightly, "I jumped to conclusions. By all means, go back to your drinks." Still, despite his apology, Drake remained up against the wall, and decided to let Darr do the talking for now. After all, Kring still hadn't explained why he'd been paying attention to them, and Drake didn't plan on letting him off the hook that easily. The spice was wearing off by the minute, and the haze that had been clouding his mind was finally clearing up.