Bir was often described as being far too friendly, but why shouldn’t he be? The edginess of many of their number was always just so… exhausting. Dark and broody, mean and moody. Where was the fun in that? The delight found in life came from enjoying being around others in Bir’s eyes. At least until they were no longer delightful to be around, that is.
So when Xeno hesitated in response to Bir’s embrace, the Kel Dor paid it no mind. He could not be expected to deny himself of who he was and as such, could not expect Xeno to do the same.
As the Dathomiran handed Bir the new drink, he looked to his now empty glass in confusion. Had he spilled it all? He HAD! How unfortunate! How irresponsible! Ah, but Xeno had made a good sponge nonetheless. His expression soon shifted back to one of delight as he casually tossed the empty glass over his shoulder for it to be caught by a droid server, muttering scornful comments in Bir’s direction as it continued to roll away. Retrieving the new drink, the Kel Dor dropped his straw in and began to indulge.
”You could say that!” Bir stated, lifting his mechanical prosthesis, now fully restored from the damage it had suffered during the Jedi’s escape. He did not share the Zabrak’s enthusiasm for being injured in battle, though he could not deny some sense of relief that it was merely the arm that had already been cut free of his body that faced the bulk of his injuries. ”Have you ever had to sit under a burning hot lamp for twelve hours while a maintenance droid replaces all your circuitry?! I thought not! No! No! How terrible it is!”
So when Xeno hesitated in response to Bir’s embrace, the Kel Dor paid it no mind. He could not be expected to deny himself of who he was and as such, could not expect Xeno to do the same.
As the Dathomiran handed Bir the new drink, he looked to his now empty glass in confusion. Had he spilled it all? He HAD! How unfortunate! How irresponsible! Ah, but Xeno had made a good sponge nonetheless. His expression soon shifted back to one of delight as he casually tossed the empty glass over his shoulder for it to be caught by a droid server, muttering scornful comments in Bir’s direction as it continued to roll away. Retrieving the new drink, the Kel Dor dropped his straw in and began to indulge.
”You could say that!” Bir stated, lifting his mechanical prosthesis, now fully restored from the damage it had suffered during the Jedi’s escape. He did not share the Zabrak’s enthusiasm for being injured in battle, though he could not deny some sense of relief that it was merely the arm that had already been cut free of his body that faced the bulk of his injuries. ”Have you ever had to sit under a burning hot lamp for twelve hours while a maintenance droid replaces all your circuitry?! I thought not! No! No! How terrible it is!”