- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Messages
- 45
- Reaction score
- 5
Larisa sat in her plainclothes outside of a small tea shop on Coruscant. Of course, ‘plainclothes’ still meant all black. Pleasantly cool, the weather allowed for the investigator to wear her favorite black, thin, long coat over her dress shirt and pants. Not looking presentable at all times was something Larisa found utterly unacceptable, and seeing others not keep themselves well taken care of infuriated her. It was elitist, she knew it, but she refused to associate with those who could not do something as simple as take care of their own personal hygiene.
A protocol droid with the embellishment of a waiter’s vest welded onto his chest waddled up to
Larisa’s table. He held nothing in his hands, and the woman’s face scrunched in annoyance, she knew what the machine would say before the words ever processed through his vocalizer. ”Terribly sorry madam, but your Spice Tea will not be ready for some time, as we are still waiting on our daily delivery. May I retrieve you anything else while you wait?” Waving off the droid, Larisa responded curtly, “No, that will be all. Thank you.” Of course the only decent tea shop around would have their kriffing delivery late.
It was early in the morning, to be sure, but Larisa expected her tea! “Haar'chak…” She whispered, annoyed more greatly by this simple inconvenience than she would have liked. Well, it wasn’t as though she needed to go anywhere. Her scattergun rested in it’s holster on the inside of her jacket, strapped to her chest, and Larisa adjusted herself so that she might be a bit more comfortable with the weapon on her person. Looking out, she started doing a little ‘people watching’ of the early risers and the very late drunkards that loitered around the streets at this time. If she was on duty, she might have considered arresting the drunks for public intoxication, but right now she was content that they were not her problem.
It wasn't that she couldn’t contain drunkards, it was that she found it difficult to contain her own impulse to just taze each and every one immediately in order to make arrests easier. That and the home office had supplied her with a tasing scattergun. How could they hand something like that to her and not expect her to use it? The thought of firing that scattergun brought a thin, genuine smile to Larisa's face for half a second before she squandered it away. Looking out, she gazed and gauged the crowds around her, assessing their mood.
A protocol droid with the embellishment of a waiter’s vest welded onto his chest waddled up to
Larisa’s table. He held nothing in his hands, and the woman’s face scrunched in annoyance, she knew what the machine would say before the words ever processed through his vocalizer. ”Terribly sorry madam, but your Spice Tea will not be ready for some time, as we are still waiting on our daily delivery. May I retrieve you anything else while you wait?” Waving off the droid, Larisa responded curtly, “No, that will be all. Thank you.” Of course the only decent tea shop around would have their kriffing delivery late.
It was early in the morning, to be sure, but Larisa expected her tea! “Haar'chak…” She whispered, annoyed more greatly by this simple inconvenience than she would have liked. Well, it wasn’t as though she needed to go anywhere. Her scattergun rested in it’s holster on the inside of her jacket, strapped to her chest, and Larisa adjusted herself so that she might be a bit more comfortable with the weapon on her person. Looking out, she started doing a little ‘people watching’ of the early risers and the very late drunkards that loitered around the streets at this time. If she was on duty, she might have considered arresting the drunks for public intoxication, but right now she was content that they were not her problem.
It wasn't that she couldn’t contain drunkards, it was that she found it difficult to contain her own impulse to just taze each and every one immediately in order to make arrests easier. That and the home office had supplied her with a tasing scattergun. How could they hand something like that to her and not expect her to use it? The thought of firing that scattergun brought a thin, genuine smile to Larisa's face for half a second before she squandered it away. Looking out, she gazed and gauged the crowds around her, assessing their mood.