Average Bar Thread (OPEN)

[Freynk Porkins]

Old worn out work boots plodded away the duracrete sidewalk as the better half flew high above on in their ships and speeders, even the public transit zoomed by as the Man made his way from the droid chassis plant to the place where at least the bartender knew his name. His thick blue jeans were starting to get holes in the knees and his thick green Karhartt jacket with frayed cuffs was missing two buttons. His dirty hands were stuffed in nearly empty pockets and he reached the duracrete stairs that led down to the bar's front door. The old hinged portal creaked as he pushed it open and raised a hand to wave at the old Bothan barman.

"Hey Jer'ya." the man said to the Bothan.

"Hey Freynk," Jer'ya replied as he towelled off a glass and set in down at Freynk's spot at the bar. "How was work?"

"Same as always." Freynk relied, a man of few words as usual before the drinks got in him, "but I didn't get fired yet so that's good."

The Bothan nodded and pulled out several bottles of clear alcohol, and a carbonated soft drink mixer and began mixing a Coruscant iced tea. Freynk sat down and handed over a small credit chip and proceeded to sip his drink. Once again it was just him and the Jer'ya in the small hole in the wall booze house. a Boloball match played on the small holo and the sounds of a jukebox droid were softly playing old music in the background. Jer'ya put a small container of various nuts on the counter and went back to watching the game.

[member="Leena Mai"] @EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO BE IN DA BAR WIT ME.

 

[Tal Kyramud]

Tal was tired from a long week of killing. Somehow he stumbled upon a tiny hole in the wall bar that looked half decent. Well maybe not even half decent, but he just wanted a drink. Walking into the bar, he removed his helmet and clipped it to his belt. He ran his fingers through his semi-shaggy hair and ordered a corellian whiskey. Hopefully there won't be any trouble here he thought as he took a swig of the whiskey
[member="Freynk Porkins"]

 

[Jen]

Yep. It had been a long day, but a good one at that. Two deals finished without the slighest problem. It was around lunchtime for the two girls who worked at The Mechanical Maiden. They had been halfway through their spray painting of a speeder when either of their stomachs had rumbled, clear sign that it was about to find some food. And with none in the frige that seemed appropriate considering what a good day it was, they found their way to a cantina they knew would serve at least some type of fat food.

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​

Two fairly young girls had entered the Cantina, deep in talk with one another. One was of Rodian race, the only thing that seemed unusual for any other of her race being the long, of course, pink dyed hair of hers. The other was seemingly of human descendant, but if one looked closely certain traits would seem out of place, such as her white spiky hair, long nose with curves in it as if was some kind of flute, long fingers and a tail visible swinging behind her as he walked, few would probably know, but she was half Ryn and half Human. Both had half face respirator masks around their necks and spray painting canisters in their pockets. Something that hinted of what they had worked on before entering. It was probably to be noted, that Jennifer, the half ryn also had a tattoo under her right eye.

A laugh escaping the rodian was heard as they made their way towards one of the tables, a huge smile adorning her face as she turned towards the bartender, Jer'ya. "Aah. Some food, aye? Just. Some type. That would do." The Rodian girl, Cindo, had said before letting out a sigh as she sat down on one of the couches, Jennifer sitting across from her on the other side of the table. Seeing Freynk all alone by the bar she spoke up, grinning slightly: "Tough day? Huh?" She had said, a strange accent heard as she spoke, it seeming almost melodious.

[member="Freynk Porkins"]​

 

[Leena Mai]

Trouble was not coming, at least not in the form of the Zelosian woman who had just swept in from the streets with a look of medium shock upon her face. She carried a slightly worn brown handbag, still punctuated with old band badges from her ill-advised youth.

---

“We're letting you go, Miss Mai.”

“What? Why!?”

“Gross negligence. We have reason to be that you are not in fact a qualified accountant.”

“Oh...right...yeah...about that...”

“What is the gross profit method of inventory?”

Blink.

“What is the gross profit method?”

Blink blink.

---

A flashback of today's horrific occurrence. Leena Mai, had been fired and rightfully so. Her face burned with a combination of rage and shame. Let me give you some insight, Miss Mai is...was...an accountant, and by accountant I mean she was a woman with an art history degree pretending to be an accountant. It was a miracle that she had lasted the whole five moths at SengCorp. The Zelosian had managed to get the job through feminine wiles and outright lying but eventually it was evident to see that...well...she had no knowledge in the realm of accounts.

---

“Count yourself lucky, Miss Mai. If it were up to me I'd have you arrested and fined, but as it stands we accepted your job application without performing the correct procedures.”
They never did check out those imaginary qualifications.

“Heads are going to roll for this.”

---

So here she was, freshly unemployed and drawn to the first bar that attracted her gaze. Ignoring the rest of the patrons, she scooted straight up to the bar, and frowned. Was it appropriate to drink? Damn straight it was. This was it. She'd be on benefits having to apply again for McYodas. This was the end.

“A muja juice, with ice," the woman said, that frown still across her features, "...oh, please."

 

[Freynk Porkins]

[member="Tal Kyramud"] [member="Jen"] [member="Leena Mai"]

Freynk made slight head bob in time with a good move in the bolo ball match as the Coruscant Highrisers played the Corellian Ropos. Both he and the bartender let out muffled Yeses and fist bumped as the Highrisers scored. With a smile Freynk popped a bar nut into his mouth and chewed before sipping his Coruscant Iced tea. As he watched a most out of place man walked in and Freynk was instantly reminded of the day long gone when he used to where the bright white armour and the iconic helmet of a Storm Trooper. He drank down his drink, shivered a little, and pushed the glass away.

"Just an Ale next Jer'ya." he said casually as he looked at the armour again and then went back to the game on the holo.

Jer'ya poured him a glass in a tall flagon sized mug that Freynk had bought and just left at the bar. He sat silent again until a pair of young ladies walked in talking and laughing as they headed for a table. They were two of the girls that worked over a The Mechanical Maiden a few blocks away. He avoided looking at the girls too much although they were both unique and pretty in their own ways. Another bar nut soared through the air and into his mouth as he sat watching the game until the white haired girl piped up and asked if it had been a tough day.

Freynk looked around to see who she was talking too before finally realizing she was talking to him. He lifted his big mug to his lips and took a sip, then wiped the froth from his upper lip with his sleeve before he gave a closed mouth smile.

"I've had worse." he said before he remembered he needed to take the trash out when he got home.

Another person walked in and he paused with his big mug to his lips as he say the green skin and distraught expression. He raised the mug and took another drink before tossing another nut toward his mouth. The nut flew up toward his waiting mouth and struck the corner before bouncing to the ground.

"Kriff." he said as he looked down for the nut, gave up on it and tried to pretend it didn't happen. As usual people came in and Freynk watched and listened. The girl said oh please and Freynk casually fished in his coat pocket for an extra cred. Jer'ya moved to get her drink and Freynk waved him over. and leaned across the bar.

"Put the Girls food and the Green girls drink on my tab Jer would ya?" he said not looking at them.

"Freynk you owe me 130 credits already." Jer'ya whispered back.

"Have I ever not made good?" Freynk said a honestly.

"No, No you make good. Ok should I say it's on you?" Jer'ya whispered again.

"Kark no." Freynk whispered as he leaned back and returned to his container of nuts and big flagon of ale. He didn't look at anyone this time and just stared at his reflection in the dark thick beer that filled his container.

 

[Paddy Quick]

--- QUICK, PADRAIG JEEMS ---​

--- Your account balance is 80.73 credits. Your available balance is 79.86 credits ---​

--- Would you like to make a transfer today? ---​

​

Paddy considered that for a second. No, no he wouldn't ... after all, it wasn't like 80.73 credits was enough to make his mam's day. But it was enough for a drink. Boo-yah, motherkarker. The Cinnagarian hit the decline button on the ATD (Automated Teller Droid, if you didn't know).

--- Have a lovely day -PADRAIG- ---​

​

"It's Paddy.." Paddy said absently, turning away from the thing.

--- Whatever, -PADRAIG- ---​

​

The average smuggler eyed the ATD suspiciously, but didn't say anything. The wiring was probably screwed ... five seconds later, he'd forgotten all about it. Because he didn't really care all that much. It wasn't like this was a Pub conspiracy or anything. Now to find a that bar where he was meeting that contact about that thing.

Five minutes later, Paddy found one. It was just kinda ... normal looking. But really, Paddy was so damn thirsty that he barely even looked at the door as he went through it. The place on the inside was your classic sports bar ... but with like, a Bothan bartender, which was pretty sweet. Weren't they all spies or assassins or something? Nah, this one probably wasn't. Just a Bothan dude behind a bar. Paddy had a look around at the other customers. One was a dude who he'd expect to be here ... then there was a green chick, some chick who looked WAY underage, and HOLY KARK, IT'S A DUDE IN BODY ARMOUR. That wasn't normal, man. The kark did he think this planet was? Tatooine? Was he just gonna start spraying blasterfire at any moment? What if- Oh, sports. Paddy looked to see who was playing. Highrisers and the Ropos ... eh, both teams sucked. Paddy was a Teta Spicers fan, personally. Had been since he was a little lad.

"Hey, can I get a beer?" The decent scoundrel asked the bartender. Paddy hoped that there wouldn't be too much trouble here ... after all, he was here to meet a contact about smuggling a shipment of Selena Halcyon action figures off-world.

"What kind of beer?"

"Just a YYYY Silver lager.." He smiled. "Hey bro, do you take EFTPOS?"

The Bothan shook his head and pointed at the ATM over on the other side of the bar. Damn it.

[member="Freynk Porkins"] [member="Leena Mai"] [member="Jen"] [member="Tal Kyramud"]

 

[Tal Kyramud]

Tal laughed at all of the weird looks he was getting. Slinging his bag off of his back, he carried it towards the 'fresher. He changed into his leather vest and brown pants and walked back in. Maybe now people wouldn't give him the stink eye.. he thought as he returned to his whiskey. People of all kinds were slowly filtering into the bar.

"Another whiskey, please" he said to the bartender.

Tal saw a woman that seemed to be extremely upset. She was probably here to drown her sorrows, but maybe he could help. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, giving her a genuinely concerned look
[member="Leena Mai"]

 

[Leena Mai]

While she waited for her beverage, Leena rooted around in her handbag, just aiming to look busy so she wouldn't have to deal with the social obstacle of making eye contact. There was her Companion 17G personal datapad, her purse, pepper spray, five sachets of instant stimcaf, chewing gum and her work ID.

She stared at the identification badge for a few seconds before huffing and reaching for her purse.

“No need, it's on the house.”

Huh.

The free drink hardly compensated for unemployment but it would have to do until the glass was empty. She observed the lager drinker trying to pay by card, ouch, talk about your social faux pas.

Her attentions were diverted to the man addressing here, who had correctly assumed that there were sorrows to be drowned. “Okay? Okay?” she responded before taking a long few gulps of her sugary beverage, “I'm unemployed! I'm going to have to go to the job centre, or worse...”

There was a dramatic pause.

“...McYoda's!”

Truly end of the world problems right here.

[member="Freynk Porkins"], [member="Tal Kyramud"], [member="Paddy Quick"], [member="Jen"]

 

[Rebekka Brek Madak]

Outside the bar, sirens could be heard off in the distance.... and then they began to slowly get louder..... Closer.....

Rebekka Brek Madak briskly walked in, and very punctually marched himself to a seat at the bar. He was wearing a black leather trenchcoat with an added hood and half-cape, and a layered dura sheeting blast vest, made of (samurai-style) slats and tied together with fibercord wire. It was a fairly obvious guess of 3 things; One; Madak was a small time merc, Two; there was likely to be guns and stuff under that great big coat of his, and three; Rebekka's latest job had just gone south, in a fast hurry.

As the police speeders zoomed past the bar, Madak evil-eyed the door, as if daring them to park it and come after him, guns ablazing.... But they didn't, just kept right on hauling assets. "They'll be back soon enough...." he whispered, to nobody in particular.

Depositing a neat stack of credit chips onto the bar, Madak monotonously made a simple and specific order of the bothan bartender. "A bottle of something citrus-like, wet, and strong..... And if anyone comes a calling, you never saw me.... Do You Understand ?" Madak said, foreboding doom coloring his words.

 

[RC 212]

RC walked into the bar just then. DC-15 dangling from his sling and fully clad in head to toe in his orange Katarn armor. It had been a while, quite a while since he had been back in the galaxy. Seemed things were moving slow. He was lost trying to make his way back to Fringe territory after a long deep space vacation.

His ship the Dreadstar II hung in orbit for refueling and repairs.

RC walked to the bar and sat down, removing his helmet. The scarred and aged visage of Jango Fett made the bartender look surprised.

"Two shots of whiskey, whicever kind."

Rc grabbed the two shots and downed them then standing up and evaluating the crowd. He was itching for fight. Something friendly to hone his muscles and shake off the dust.

"All right you miserable bunch, one hundred credits wager to whoever beats me in hand to hand combat. If I beat you you pay up! First one to yield loses!," He roared.

 

[The Red of Sinner]

[member="RC 212 "]

A clone had walked in, clad in full armor, Ryan wasn't quite familiar with clones, but he knew get were good at what they did. He ordered two shots, and drowned them just as fast as they came. With a sudden roar, the clone issued a challenge. 100 credits? Not bad.

"Ill take that bet." He said as he walked up to the clone. Ryan too was clad in his full Durasteel armor, no where near as good as that Katarn stuff, but armor was armor in the end. Ryan reached hus hand out. "Friendly fight, no hard feelings in the end. Shake on it?"

 

[RC 212]

[member="McNeal"]
RC reached out and shook the mans hand in a crushing grip, grinning wildly. He loved a good fight, and this guy seemed a worthy opponent.

Moving a step back he unbuckled his gunbelt, and set his twin verpine slughtrowers on the bar with them. Next he popped out his knuckleplate knives and unholstered hi boot knife, placing them next to it. Finally he unslung the DC-17 and tossed it up on the bar. It landed with a loud thunk.

"Your on, no weapons."

RC squared up leaning forwards and crouching low, watching the Durasteel clad man waiting him to move.

 

[The Red of Sinner]

The man had the furthest grip Ryan had ever felt, and with that respect came from him to the clone. "Yes sir." He said in respectful tone. He removed his holsters from under his arms holding his twin repeater pistols. Then removed the carbine from his back. With all that said, Ryan now only had his fist.

The clone was already set in a stance to fight, Ryan didn't know how they fought, so he'd just wing it. Attack attack attack. That was the goal here. From his short time in the military school m, Ryan learned a few things about hand to hand combat. Fight for your life.

Ryan took a step back as well, standing sideways towards [member="RC 212 "]in a typical, but affective stance. Ryan took the first move, a hop forward on one leg, and a swift kick to the head.

 

[RC 212]

[member="McNeal"]

Boom it was on. RC's eyes tracked the kick and he squatted lower. His forearms came up instinctively locking in an X to try and catch his attackers foot.
As his forearms closed in where he predicted the kick would land he kicked out one leg, sweeping his armored boot behind his adversaries now one leg in an effort to knock him off balance. It was tricky maintaining balance and hi other leg screamed in protest.

 

[The Red of Sinner]

The clone was much faster then he anticipated, the next thing Ryan knew was he was on his back, with his leg in the clone's grasp. "Kark it." Ryan muttered, but he could still fight from here. Lucky he always kept in shape, so with a his strength, he mustered ul, he pushed himself of his back, the clone still holding his leg. Now his full body weight was coming at [member="RC 212 "]and he was about to give this clone a taste of his fist. He used the clones grip as support to push into the clone. Wether me not his body hit the clones, or his fist even touched helmet, he want sure.

 

[Rebekka Brek Madak]

"All right you miserable bunch, one hundred credits wager to whoever beats me in hand to hand combat. If I beat you you pay up! First one to yield loses!," He roared.

Rebekka was very tempted to take that bet, but upon the other guy speaking, was content to be the second-liner. If nothing else, Madak would have a chance to see how the clone fought. Madak was pleasantly surprised at how much the clonetrooper looked like Jango Fett, the Same Jango Fett from his holo-book-thingie, which had originally belonged to Boba Fett.

"I will take that bet, as well, but, i will let you two boys have the first round.... Politeness and all." Madak said loudly, and placed his money on the bar. As soon as the ~rattling clink~ of money sounded off, the two were going at eachother like it was going out of style.

(Brek spent the time drinking shots of something fruity and pink (Yay !), unstrapping his coat and weapons harnesses, and seeing how the clone fought.)

 

[RC 212]

@McNeal@R. Brek Madak

"Frak!" RC exclaimed just before he was crushed under the merc and the fist slammed into his helmet, throwing his head back. RC grinned as flecks of blood flourished inside the faceplate. The Merc was good, or at least Rc guessed he was a merc, based on his style. He hadn’t had a fight this good since the days of the Dark Harvest.

RC pushed off the floor with both hands, releasing the leg and brought his legs up to try and scissor lock the mercs neck. His hips thrust up as the legs whipped into position.

"I have you now!" He roared.

 

[The Red of Sinner]

He hit his target, but the victory was short lived as both were on the ground now. The clones legs were locked around his neck, probably attempting to cut off air supply, and knock him out. Some man was offering dibs on the second round, but Ryan payed no attention. Those legs were strong, and he was beginning to feel the affects of not having air supplied to his brain.

[member="RC 212 "]was much better the Ryan, and that was a fact, but he wouldn't lose this easily. Just as it was darkening around the vision, Ryan locked his legs on the floor, and with rainfall his strength, attempted to lift the clone up locked around him, and slam him on the ground.

 

[RC 212]

[member="McNeal"]

RC felt his body lift into the air and panic surged through him for a split second. He breathed a deep breath and pushed it back into his mind. The reflexes of age old fights came to bear and RC let his arms drop. He unlocked his legs, and his palms met the hard ground. Using the momentum of the fall he rocked back slightly in mid air in perfect balance.

Both legs tucked in and then lashed out in a double kick. The clone warrior aimed the flats of his boots right into the Mercs chest.

 

[Rebekka Brek Madak]

Brek Madak shot down another glass of the pink stuff, and pulled back his hair and tied it into a ponytail. ~So, the clone likes to use brute-force tactics. Power on through any of the enemies strategies or defenses, and dominate the fight to the briefest end.~ He thought to himself. It made sense; the clone was a soldier, born and bred, and as a soldier, he would usually be facing scores of enemies. Better to put down an opponent for good, and move on to the next, like an assembly line, almost.

An effective method, no doubt, but how would it stack up to a thinker like Madak ?