Networking at the Neon Nexu

[Talo Geist]

SOCIAL THREAD. PVP, CAPTURE, THEFT AND OTHER SHENANIGANS DISABLED.

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THE NEON NEXU NIGHTCLUB----CORUSCANT

1900 HOURS GALACTIC STANDARD TIME​

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Imperial Agent Talo Geist sat at a booth in the night club, it was a club that gave discounts and generally catered to members of the Empire. Making it a prime spot for Imperials to relax after a mission, relax before a mission, relax in general, or just make new contacts. Talo was a regular here and spent a lot of time in this very booth, and tonight he was sipping his usual brandy and watching the crowd.

Being an alien in Imperial Republica was a hard life sometimes, most humans had no interest in interacting with you, and most xenos wanted to avoid seeming cliquey by hamgimg out with other aliens. Talo did not really care all that much about species, at least not any farther than the fact that he had to be careful when speaking to humans due to the xenophobic society he lived in.

Tomight Talo was on the hunt for missions, he had nothing going on and hoped to find one of the patrons relaxing before a job so that he could maybe get in on it. This was a spot where people often looked for contacts and help on missions, he himself had recruited people to help in tasks he had done in the past.

He briefly flipped through his datapad looking for open mission postings but found nothing, leaving him to just sip his brandy and wait for someone to either approach him or seem approachable.

At the very least he hoped to find someone who could hold a decent conversation.

 

[Larkin DeLacroix]

Night clubs, with their gaudy neon lights, pulsating synthetic musics and raucous crowds, were far from Larkin's typical haunt. Yet it wasn't merely the unappealing atmosphere that deterred her, but her own social prejudices. Establishments such as these were a haven for the galaxy's myriad commoners and dregs. In fact, everywhere she looked stoked renewed disgust in the young socialite, who had thus far contented herself with staying above the crowds in a small balcony booth.

Tonight though, Larkin was willing to endure a moment or two of this miserable place in search of connections. Rumors had circulated that this was a common gathering place for members of the Imperial military and Sith Order alike. What they could possibly find relaxing about this club was beyond her reasoning, but perhaps she could entice a few wayward sheep to stray from the flock long enough to serve her ends for a time.

Where to start though, this was the question which most vexed her. The crowds filling the club were a faceless amalgam of revelers, drunkards, dancers and addicts. Finding even one that would be worthy of her attention would be a daunting task, to say the least.

Quietly scanning the crowds from her perch, her expression displaying a cold scowl, Larkin could already feel the migraine she would be suffering tomorrow. It would be worth it though, this was her greatest hope, and the internal mantra which she had been repeating to herself ad nauseam for the past hour. It would be worth it to suffer this noise if she could find even one worthwhile person.

It was with that thought that her skimming gaze snagged on a particularly curious looking creature. His complexion was pale, dreadfully so, standing out even amidst the sea of alien-hued skin tones below. He, like herself, appeared to value his privacy, sitting off to the side in a booth of his own. A Sith perhaps? Larkin dwelt on the thought, considering that she knew little about their kind aside from what image the Empire wished to paint - no doubt with a rose colored palette.

Still, she knew enough to understand they were formidable warriors, and having one in her corner could prove a boon in the weeks and months to come. And if all else failed, this would at the very least be a learning experience from which she could draw for future endeavors.

Making her way down from the balcony, Larkin made her way through the crowd towards the man in his secluded booth, throwing on a well practiced smile as she approached. "Mind if I join you?" She asked, raising her voice over the din of music.


@One For Sorrow

 

[Ophelia Artemei]

To say that Ophelia stood out would be an understatement. In a bustling club on Coruscant there she sat in her tattered colourful clothing with her blue hair making her nearly visible from space. Above all she didn’t know how to act in these kinds of places, she never has. it’s just not her field of expertise, one of her in her opinion few shortcomings she doesn’t know how to… “party”, not knowing how to talk at a party, not knowing what to drink at a party, not knowing how to dance at a party, she figures it was just something her father never wanted her doing. Nevertheless, here she is, and she is hating every second of it, she had that one spark of confidence, “I’ll go to a party and have a good time.” and now she’s here, ready to choke the next person who gentle nudges her.

 

[Astridia Kazaczecho]

Astridia fixed her skirt with a wrinkle of her nose as she entered the nightclub. Her 'friend' (at least that's what she had been told) Sylvie Corser had recommended this place for when she was off-duty. So far it had failed to please her from the already lack of people she knew or dared to try to approach. The damned Zeltron had also managed to get her to wear a skirt that was a bit too high for her standards and a jacket that didn't do it justice or make up for the lack of clothing. She remembered something about pheromones being able to influence people and was starting to think this was a sick prank that would get her into trouble. 'Have fun' had been the last two words from the partying Zeltron.

Astrid paced further into the club and the music intensified, thumping bass making her chest feel like it was getting struck with every repeat of the beat. She thought it best to get away from the noise and grabbed a drink from the bar, sliding credits down the row to pay before dodging a guy who looked like he was about to ask her something. The woman waded through the crowd, about to reach an empty table before a laughing couple accidentally shoved her into an occupied one, where she deftly landed on the hard surface known as a lap, quickly sliding aside to find a pale humanoid and a woman who was introducing herself. (@One For Sorrow @Gamov ) Her face flushed as she attempted to stand and smiled nervously.

"Ah--apologies."

And from there her next plan was to bolt and get out of here. Miraculously her drink was safe. So far.

 

[Talo Geist]

Talo took another sip of his brandy and was about to pull out his little datapad again when a woman approached his booth and asked if he minded her joining him. He'd actually never had a human speak to him politely, and here this one was asking permission to sit at his table. Strange days.

"Not at all." he responded with a gesture towards the opposite bench, not one he had ever made before but it seemed to be what people did to indicate that someone should sit. This whole being asked his opinion on something by a human had thrown him right off.

He briefly glanced away when he saw a woman in bright tattered clothing with such bright blue hair he had initially thought it to be part of the lighting, in fact her whole ensemble could have been decor for this place if it wasn't on a person. She did not look like she really wanted to be here, not uncommon in this type of scene.

Turning back to the woman at his table he extended his hand. "Talo Geist, agent." the Nagai had practiced introducing himself a thousand times over, always trying not to offend humans. He wasn't sure if this one was a Sith or another type of Imperial, but either way he knew to state name and role in the Empire as he had always been taught in the academy. (@Gamov)

"So, what brings you--" His question was cut short as another -seemingly quite frazzled- human woman fell plunk into his lap, yet another thing that had NEVER happened to him, with or without the human involvement. He shifted slightly to allow her to sit beside him as she slid off, chuckling a little at the awkwardness of the situation and the increasingly stramge day he was having. "Not a problem, why don't you join us? At least long enough to recover from that tumble." (@Herrith)

 

[Ophelia Artemei]

Ophelia sat near the edge of her booth, no people, no drinks just a frazzled looking Sephi sinking into her seat with her arms crossed as she watched people dancing. Suddenly a “attractive specimen” who she noticed dancing with his friends not two meters away from her sanctuary not five minutes ago noticing that ever so slightly he was moving closer and closer to her inch by inch occasionally looking at her, she bet he thought he was slick, he thought she was “interested” when she clearly was not, nevertheless this creature gentle nudges his back into Ophelia and like a Anooba to a livestocks through she whipped around jumping out of her sea and pinning him to the post between two booths with her forearm.

“HEY WATCH IT!”, She screamed right into his face.

The man, embarrassed and freaked out, struggled to escape the unclenching grasp of Ophelia, marginally smaller then himself. She reluctantly let go as a rush of guilt and her own embarrassment rushed through her noticing how quiet the entire club had gotten after the incident, the music transitioning, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, she scurried into the crowd, god she wished she'd just bit his face off and killed everybody in here.

~Background Music~​

Trying to distance herself from that altercation, she observed the crowd within the club nothing two girls and a white skinned alien sitting together, have next to no social skills but mentally needing to detach herself from the previous situation she proceeded to slide over to their booth and pretty much just hover in desperate hopes of trying to talk to someone to feel just a little less alone in a crowd. Hearing the pale skilled creature say, "Why don't you join us?" her face lit up with a attempt at a subtle smile which came across as a completely fake menacing grin.

"Sure I loved to!"

She said as she sat in the booth with the complete stranger after having literally zero conversation with him. god she was nailing this party thing.

 

[Larkin DeLacroix]

Talo Geist, Imperial Agent​

She committed his rank and name to memory, accepting his outstretched hand with a warm smile and a gracious nod. A pity he was no Sith, it would have been lovely to have one of their ilk in her corner. Ah well, c'est la vie, as they say. It would not be the first time she had made due with the tools at hand.

"Larkin DeLacroix, entrepreneur." She replied with a thick Imperial accent, laced with all the haughty flare only she could deliver. "I'm here on business, unfortunately. I'm looking for-" and her words went no further, their conversation interrupted by a bumbling woman who had managed to stagger her way into the booth, and right into Talo's lap. Larkin quirked an eyebrow at the spectacle, less interested in how the woman had been thrust into the situation. For Larkin, it was merely enough that she was there, interrupting a perfectly polite discussion.

The energy in the club seemed to shift for a moment, growing still just long enough for her to overhear a distant shout. "So uncivilized," she muttered as the atmosphere quickly returned to its former pitch. Clearing her throat, stifling her instincts to remove herself from the midst of this raucous mob, Larkin put on an inviting smile for the woman who had stumbled into their midst.

"Yes, by all means. Do include yourself." Larkin's barbs were only thinly veiled, her eyes staring daggers even as her expression looked warm. "Well, as I was saying," she turned her attentions back on Talo, "I'm here on business. Scouting for a few prospective hires, in fact." (@One For Sorrow) Larkin inspected the pair sitting across from her.

Talo appeared the more casual between them, more comfortable in his surroundings. The woman, on the other hand, seemed a little so. The dress she wore didn't seem to match her, neither in size nor decorum. "I'm sorry, where are my manners." She said, extending a hand towards the woman. (@Herrith) "Larkin DeLacroix. And you are?" Just as she began to introduce herself to this newcomer, however, yet another voice bellowed into the conversation from just over her shoulder.

Larkin ignored the speaker for now, doing her best to snap back the irritated sneer she felt tugging at her lips. She had half a mind to spin around and ask the person - whoever they were - if they had any sense of manners. But she would be willing to bet the answer she received would be nothing short of a punch to the face. This was why she didn't often go where the commoners went. Now more than ever, she was missing the solitude of her manor. But at the moment, she couldn't afford to board herself up behind gilded walls. No, staving off disaster this time would mean trudging the same roads as many of the galaxy's more unsavory sorts.

It would all be worth it though. This was what she kept telling herself.

 

[Astridia Kazaczecho]

Astrid wasn't exactly eager to sit and wait, especially after falling right into the arms of the very same humanoid who had invited her to stay, but she supposed anything was an improvement from her current attempts at existing within a nightclub. So she sat down, saying her thanks to the nonhuman before focusing her attention on the svelte woman who seemed to not be enjoying very many new people. She held her hand out to shake as the woman introduced herself as Larkin DeLacroix. Rather posh name for a very subtly insulting person.

She smiled and was about to say something when another woman came barreling in, clearly making this human entrepreneur lady another shade of irritated. A bit of satisfaction flooded her veins at this as she spotted the corners of Larkin's mouth pulling back a bit. This new, fairly loud girl squeezed in and she scooted over uncomfortably with a nervous chuckle. Rapidly turning into a Rodian's wet dream rather than a simple social event.

"Astridia Kazaczecho. Imperial agent...when I'm working, that is, and not falling into the arms of someone."

Making light of her mishaps was perhaps the only way she was going to fit in, then. Besides this insane lady.

"Ah, Miss DeLacroix, what's the name of your business? Certainly must be rather large for someone like yourself...right?"

Not much to return the favor, but better than nothing.

 

[Talo Geist]

"Agent Talo Geist." Talo responded to their...drop-in...she seemed incredibly uncomfortable but that was not always horrible.

The loud and bright woman had since crossed the club, snapping at someone on her way, and then just kind of invited herself to join them, shoving him and Agent Kazaczecho over as she sat. He was so far...wary of that one.

DeLacroix was incredibly irritated by both of the people who had joined them, an interesting development. This entrepreneur as she called herself seemed incredibly irritable, another interesting fact.

Agent Kazaczecho asked the very question that he had been about to. What the name of Miss DeLacroix's company was.

Agent's with similar mindsets evidently.

"Yes, what is the company? What do you do? And why are you looking to..."hire" Imperial agents?"

With that he turned to the loud woman, his left eyebrow raised. "And you might be?"

 

[Ophelia Artemei]

(OOC: if I call Talo Talos don’t be surprised, a character in one of my D&D campaign is named Talos and it’s hardwired in my brain)

At this point Ophelia was sweating so much she swore their was a puddle at her feet, it took her a solid five seconds to process that the man had said his name was Talo then another ten to realize he actually asked her a question, she shook her hand to snap herself back into reality and out of the Opheliazone, “Ophelia, Ophelia Artemei, Sith… Acolyte! Sith acolyte.” After saying her name she looked at the other women surrounding Talo, clearly quite a ladies man, she then remembered she was a women and felt like part of the problem.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the two didn’t look too thrilled to see her or at least confused, which hindsight is fair, in her panic she did just barge in on a conversation probably. but at the same time she didn’t particularly cared about their feelings. Nevertheless, this Miss Delacroix, their was something about her, she reminded her of all the trophy wives of her fathers old business associates in the mining industry, the girls didn’t speak a word of basic and were exceptionally pretty but stupid and weak, they’d flaunt them around barging about what theirs had at every opportunity, they spoke of them like they were some expensive ship or something, it made her sick. the looks and these peoples faces, the blaring music, the white noise of hundreds of people, whole ordeal made her feel like throwing up, god I wish I could go home. In a desperate attempt to spark a conversation with the man Ophelia asked him a question about the first thing she saw, "So uhhh, what are you drinking?"

 

[Larkin DeLacroix]

Astridia Kazaczecho, another Imperial Agent​

Another name and rank committed to memory. It seemed the rumors she heard were true after all. This club was indeed a popular haunt for the Empire's myriad armed forced. A sidelong glance found its way to the other woman, even less accommodated to her surrounding than Mrs. Kazaczecho seemed to be - though she was still capable of summoning a modicum of composure compared to Ophelia. Speaking of her... Larkin's attention certainly peaked at mention of her being a Sith. Merely an Acolyte, but then again that was perhaps a good thing. She had heard stories of the senseless cruelties from those higher up the food chain in their Order.

"I operate a small shipping company." Larkin explained, "though it pains me to admit, we have fallen on hard times. The civil war took its toll, as it has from so many." She feigned care for her so-called 'fellow man', though could have hardly cared less. "Which brings me to why I'm here. It occurs to me there are countless Imperial citizens still suffering as a result of that pointless war. Citizens who, ignored for too long, risk becoming disillusioned."

Larkin hoped Talo and Astridia were keen enough to realize what she was proposing. "It also occurs to me that their needs and my own are one in the same. By providing humanitarian aid to these forgotten peoples, I gain valuable consumers, and the Empire no longer needs to worry about starving, homeless masses fomenting into incipient rebellions." She gestured to the two of them, "and it would be good publicity for people to see the Imperial military in such a benevolent light."

Larkin allowed her words to linger for only a beat or two, before playing her hand just a little further. "Of course, that says nothing for the commendations those involved would no doubt receive from their superiors." She let her offer stand, the invitation clearly open for their consideration. It was her hope they might take it, but if not... it was a big Empire. She could find a thousand more just like them elsewhere.


@One For Sorrow, @Herrith

 

[Ashr Kaasi]

Ashr had been people watching for most of the evening, soaking up the lights and sounds of the club. After being so out of his comfort zone less than a day ago on Kashyyyk, he thought it wise to take a pause between missions, to find someplace familiar. And although he'd never been to the Neon Nexu, and it was somewhat more high end than most of the clubs he spent his youth traipsing, it was certainly more comfortable than the woods of Kashyyyk. Not to mention it served discounts for Imperials. Those were nice. The discounts also led, so he'd overheard, to the club being a popular spot for agents of the Empire, like himself.

Sat at a booth in one of the corners of the club, Kaasi carelessly lifted his boots onto the table and pressed the warmth of his Tevraki Whiskey to his lips, letting the heat fill his mouth. For now, he didn't care what others thought of him.

The approval of strangers is psychologically overrated in every single species known to man anyway.

He lifted his drink to his eyes and watched the golden liquid dance about in the bottom of the glass. A Pantoran recommended Tevraki to him once, and ever since then it never stopped being his go-to beverage, especially at higher end joints. Of course, given it's rarity and consequent value, it was always watered down in the less prestigious clubs. Nonetheless, the flavour was unlike that of any other beverage, and he slowly let his mind, and his eyes, drift, as the taste lingered on his tongue.

The club was filled with humans, unsurprisingly, given it's Imperial disposition. And yet, after a few minutes scrolling his through the crowd, he found himself staring at a non-human, nestled into a booth with three others, whose faces he couldn't see. It took the best of his admittedly shaky memory to recall his species to be known as the Nagai, though beyond that he remembered little of their kind. Nonetheless, he intended on keeping an eye out for him. After all, in a club filled with oft-xenophobic humans, the Nagai was most certainly outnumbered, should something go awry. It was the least he could do to stand up for him if a few drunk xenophobes started making some trouble.

He watched on, doing his best to relax, and enjoy his hard-earned Whiskey. And yet, he couldn't stop his mind wandering all the way back to the corpse of the poor young Imperial who had been slaughtered by Old Sith rebels back on Kashyyk. Zessa Tarriset. Perhaps, in his free time, he'd find her family, if she had any, and let them know she died honourably, in service of her Empire. But, for now, the best he could do was give a toast, under his breath.

"To Officer Zessa Tarriset, and all those innocent Imperials murdered at the hands of the Old Sith Insurgency. As long as I live, may your deaths never be in vain."

He lifted his glass and drank.


@One For Sorrow, @Herrith, @Gamov, @Bigfatpenn​

 

[Markus Valentine]

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The Neon Nexu Nightclub. This was definitely an establishment considered to be "Popping" in a multitude of different social circles including socialites as well as members of the Imperial armed forces. Everything with exception of working class poor could be seen here and if the cocktails weren't so damned expensive, perhaps those making less money could also enjoy a night out. In either case it didn't matter, this venue was one of Markus' favorite; the music was good, the women were beautiful, and a weekend getaway to Coruscant would always clear the mind.

Oddly enough for as many Imperial agents and Sith operatives were present, members of the Red Skull Gang would enter and enjoy themselves with near impunity. So it was this night that he decided to pay a visit; arriving in the later half of the night when the club was beginning to grow to near capacity. He was dressed in higher end leisure wear, silk pantaloons and a luscious robe both of which sparkled with a blend of ebony and velvet. He was barechested, no shirt to conceal that impressive male physique; a definite peacocking move, complete with very selective pieces of jewelry including a silver ring on his right middle finger and an expensive watch on the left wrist. Eyes survey quickly through the venue, catching glimpses and noting positions of other Red Skull members present in case a riot or worse, violence broke out.

Cigarra lit in his mouth, he cast a glance towards the bartender and simply gave the man a nod as his regular order would likely be delivered. Seemingly, most of the booths and tables were already taken, except for the one situated next to the group of Imperials gathered in the corner. Shrugging he settled down on the table besides them, his line of sight across from Larkin @Gamov. A faint smile with typical underlook he gave her, "You look beautiful.." before shifting his attention away. A mere compliment, though he rarely expected a return conversation, but who knew, maybe he'd get lucky tonight. Moments later, the bartender delivered a bottle of crystal Vodka to his table, softly speaking, "Here you go Markus, ice chilled as you like it." The Pantoran merely nodded, "Thanks Rymrald.."

There wasn't anything too strange about the Pantoran, aside from his bold clothing selection and confident demeanor. Though on closer inspection, a famed Mythosaur sigil was tattooed on his right pectoral.

@One For Sorrow @Herrith @Eden @Bigfatpenn

 

[Astridia Kazaczecho]

Astrid squirmed uncomfortably at the mention of a Sith being in their presence. She was fine with them, but at a social gathering like this? Especially with one so..'twitchy'? Already the group was rounding a number more than she would have preferred in company. Maybe one or two was fine but...there was a crowd here now. Especially with some kind of Pantoran immediately appearing and complimenting her. Miss Perfect the entrepreneur. In all honesty a job like what was being proposed, though not her type, was perfect for a certain secretary she knew. The very kriffing same friend that had tossed her into this mess ass first who was looking for a change of pace. Astrid cleared her throat and decided to tell Larkin about a possible employee. She held back, then, and looked to Talo, then to Ophelia (who aptly named herself late after being questioned). Perhaps these two would report her.

Astrid gave Larkin a look to bring up that topic later, if they ever crossed paths again. She nodded and a smile slowly returned to her face.

"Well! I'd say this is going rather grand considering the circumstances."

She nodded to their Pantoran newcomer, noting his tattoo without much thought at this particular point in time.

"So. Drinks? Perhaps for our Sith friend, who seems so curious? Imperial funds are buying."

Anything to break the ice.