OOC: Just trying to get back into the feel of things, jump in!
The cantina buzzed with life. The kind of life you got in Nar Shaddaa at two thirty in the morning, but a kind of life nonetheless. Quiet discussions over robbery targets. A high-stakes game of pazaak in one of the booths. A couple of scoundrels, celebrating smuggling some shit or the other, waiting for the their next work. Juniper smacked the glass down on the counter, wiping her lips. Shuddering as she felt the strong stuff run through her. She couldn't quite remember how many she'd had, but this was way past her first of the night. It wasn't about taste now, it was about whatever would help her reach a better state of oblivion quickly. She looked up towards the bartender, nodding.
"'Nother."
The bartender frowned, looking her over. You don't get to stay in the cantina business on the smuggler's moon without developing some sense of judgement. "Do you not think you've had enough?"
Juniper glared up at him, through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. "I fixed your damn droid, didn't I? Pour me another," she demanded, only slightly slurring her words. Two seconds passed, the both of them staring each other out. Until the bartender blinked first and sighed, turning to grab a bottle of the good stuff. Juniper smirked.
Still got it. Charmer.
The slosh of the liquor as it poured into her glass was like a beautiful choir. Her fingers wrapped tighter around it, as if it was going to be wrenched away at any second. The tingle in her nostrils of delicious, strong alcohol was almost too much to resist. She raised the glass higher, higher... right towards her waiting mouth, right towards that unquenchable thirst...
*BLAM*
The blaster fire rang across the cantina. Juniper jumped at the sound. The glass slipped from her fingers, spilled all over her and smashed on the floor. For an instant, Juniper couldn't believe what'd happened. She stood up, fighting the lead in her arms as she reached for her blaster. "You little rat bast-" she began, before she saw that the three thugs stood with military-grade blaster rifles. Well... crap.