The Toasted Twi'lek: Growing Pains

[Díleas Nimbus]

The Toasted Twi'lek
14:42
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Social only, if PvP does occur, Death and Maiming disabled. With respect, I'd rather my first thread isn't my last :)
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Spoiler: Outfit

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Ah, The Toasted Twi'lek.

The fine purveyor of such business interests as Food, Drink, Girls, Spice, Slavery, and many other fine business paths. It seemed as good a place as any for Díleas to make her start, since Mom didn't want her on Ord Mantell anymore. She looked the place up and down, taking it all in with a deep breath. She hadn't exactly made it in life, she was still just a lowly Basadi, but at the same time, she was hoping that this could change with time. The Toasted Twi'lek was meant to be one of the foremost rising gangs right now, way she figured it, some grunt work, pull her weight, and her name would be known well enough soon. Of course, she had her own plans, but those were a ways off, so yeah, she needed to start somewhere.

She stepped through the doors cautiously, taking a little look around before going any further. The place looked safe enough, fun too, girls coming and going and guard posted all around. The Bar was easily the most prominent landmark inside, dotted with all kinds of people, large and small, shark and sheep. Considering she had just stepped off a cramped 6 hour long transport to this Force Forsaken planet, she figured a drink would definitely be just what she needed to unwind after everything. She strolled over to the bar and slid into a stool, calling for the Bartender.
"Corellian Ale!" She ordered

@Dread @Nefieslab @Danee @Malon @Nor'baal

 

[Tecov Skirata]

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A long pull on a cigarette was only dragged out by loud breath of exhaling that followed. The cloud of tabac smoke drifted slightly away from the man who had forced it to exit his lungs for a few moments before it was taken by a mild breeze. The man stood with one hand in his leather jacket pocket and the other with the item of vice in between his index and middle finger. The Ragithian Human stood at the base of his 820 light freighter. Not his ideal vehicle but he was not complaining. It was better than anything else that he had seen a millennia ago.

His stoic gaze moved over the moving lights of the city moon. He had been in charge of infiltrating and disrupting Hutt actions long ago but now he loathed his former employees just as much, if not more so than those he had been sent after to neutralize. However he was in a strange new galaxy and so many things had changed. It was time for new beginnings and he would not get anywhere without some consistency.

The best course of action at this point was to get a drink, maybe enjoy some of the illgal amenities the Cartel had to offer. The saying went that you could only live your life once. However he felt he had lived several. Taking his eyes off of the Nar Shaddaa sky line he would look down at the burning embers of the rolled tabac stick and flick it away with habitually acquired ease. Shrugging his jacket into place he was still getting used to hiss Hippeus Protective Kit. The item was new age technology, common and useful. The market had not had this sort of thing back when he had been working for the republic but he was glad he had it now. His attire was perhaps a little intimidating but at least nobody would bother him. If they did they probably had the complex to challenge anything that looked like it had a drop of testosterone. Tecov was not in the mood to entertain brutes. A couple exotic dancers, recreational drugs and alcohol was what he wanted and he knew the best places to look.

Walking away from his ship it would close up and be locked down while he was away. The helmet of his hippeus protective kit would mechanically close around his head perfectly. He would have to get used to it eventually. Most of what he currently possessed had been taken from the hands of a few unlucky corsairs and scavengers that he had met since he had woken up on Malastare. Tecov did not feel sorry for them, he did not feel sorry for anyone, maybe not even himself.

As he walked he realized none of the fences, crime barons and low level scum that he had an intel on were probably even alive. Even the Hutts he had information on back a thousand years ago was useless. It looked like he would have to start from the bottom. On the upside nobody had heard of him. Everyone that had known him thought him dead and they were dead from old age or what have you too. The tall man eventually found hiss way in front of a blinking red sign. He stopped and looked down the street to see what the other options were but nothing caught his stoic gaze.

Sighing he walked into the Toasted Twi'lek establishment and was immediately met with loud music. His intstinct told him to keep his helmet up but then he remembered there was nobody alive to recognize him. He deactivated the helmet reversing the mechanical motion it had completed earlier. Tecov walked over to the bar and leaned against it. When the server behind the counter eventually made his way over to the man he would speak up to give him his order. "Dragonjuice" He said simply before looking around at the other patrons. He could have ordered something stronger like Vosh or one of the numerous Wookiee drinks he had partaken in before. But he was genuinly curious if the quality of booze had changed. A dragonjuice was a simple enough beverage and something he could actually afford.

As he looked around he saw a lone female at the bar to his right. She looked like was enjoying herself but he caught the drink she ordered in his eye. Everbody always orders corellian ale or brandy He practically rolled his eyes at his own inner dialogue. While he was not someone to judge people harshly it was a detail that told him the person who drank such a thing was either in a new place and wanted something that was the same across the galaxy. It could also mean that they were legitimate corellian natives of course or they were just basic people who partook in the the most common alcoholic beverage and did not try anything new. All of these possibilities swirled in Tecov's head in and all he had done was glance at a stranger. He sighed at himself and continued looking around noticing the numerous guards as well as the other patrons. As far as Cartel associated establishments went the Toasted Twi'lek was pretty tame and for his current state that was ideal.

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[Faison Kelborn]

Of all the bars to come to on Nar Shaddaa, Faison had actually never visited the Toasted Twi’lek. It was a bit more upscale compared to every other cantina he’d frequented, but considering much of his client base was within the Cartel, it made sense to get himself around more of the same type. Never could have enough business in the world of mercenary work. Although, being overworked may well mean getting killed. Plus, he could use a stiff drink after working with a few of these guys.

The Mandalorian entered the Cantina bedecked in his full kit, namely his Mandalorian armor, his two pistols, knife, and other miscellaneous tools of the trade. He didn't make it very far though, as a bouncer stopped him and indicated he needed to give up his weapons. The Mandalorian gave him a cold, hard stare for several moments before he begrudgingly followed the bouncer to a series of weapons lockers. He checked his weapons in and took the key with him.

Thereafter he approached the bar of the establishment and slowly removed his helmet, setting it on the bartop before making eye contact with the bartender. “Net’ra Gal.” The bartender looked at him with a quizzical look, at which Faison grimaced slightly before he added: “Black Ale, in a mug. Frosted.”

’What karking bartender doesn’t know what Net’ra Gal is?’ Faison mused. He glanced around, noticing two patrons further down making conversation. The Mandalorian kept to himself as the bartender brought his drink, and he slapped the appropriate credits on the bar in turn. Then, with helmet in one hand and ale in the other, Faison made his way to a table in a corner of the room, giving him a good vantage point of the entrance. While he doubted anyone was dumb enough to act on the ill-contrived bounty placed on the Toasted Twi’lek gang, he didn’t want to take any chances of someone getting the drop on him. He may not have been a part of the gang, but an indiscriminate young hotshot with a bounty hunting license may well think he was guilty by association. ‘Finally, some time to relax.’

 

[Faison Kelborn]

Eventually, the goings on within the Twisted Twi’lek passed by uneventfully. Faison had finished his ale, along with a meal he had ordered through the Cantina’s kitchen. All in all, he had gotten what he expected and was able to get in a few hours of rest. Faison wasn’t the type to stay in any one place for too long, his reasons being both to keep from being vulnerable for too long and for his natural restless attitude. He quickly set about settling his accounts and made his way to the security lockers to retrieve his weapons.

After he did so, he gave a nod to the bouncer and made his way out into the streets of Nar Shaddaa, off to do something likely underhanded in all honesty.

/Leave thread

 

[Tecov Skirata]

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The man got his drink and tasted it, noting the flavor was decent and not unworthy of the price he paid for it. He gazed at the entertainment for a minute, enjoying the sight of some equally scantly clad and skilled performers for a while. But he was not in a mood to stay for too long. Drinking his beverage relatively quickly he paid the bartender and left a fair tip before turning and leaving the Toasted Twi'lek. There was more to do tonight and he had already lost enough time in this life time.

EXIT THREAD​