Clubbing With The Phish (Open)

[Icthy Zand]

Icthy sat in the bar area of the Sky Fly, a large-ish club on Sluis Van. He rather liked it here, honestly. There were enough varieties of pilots, barflies, and exotic species here to make him inconspicuous. Except maybe to the bounty hunter who had his gun pointed at the mutant Mon Cal's head.​

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"Zand. Keep your hands where I can see 'em."​

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The blue-scaled man raised an eyebrow behind his goggles.​

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"No intention to move hands. Depending on your optical strength, hands could be construed as out of sight."​

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A low growl escaped the other man as he grabbed Icthy's collar and slammed him into a table.​

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"I heard you think you're some kind of comedian. How comedic will it be when I cut your fishy tongue out?"​

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The Phish shrugged back and took a deep breath through his gills. Water came in, and he spat it from his mouth. It froze into a foot-long spike that impaled the man through the head, killing him.​

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"Differing definitions of comedic. Yours might be satisfied."​

 

[Nate Drake]

Nate had some time to kill so he thought he might go out and have some fun.He happened to be in a area of a club called sky high.He wasn't the clubbing type but he thought why not go in it could be fun.He walked in and had a look around and thought he'd go sit at the bar and have a drink.He began to make his way through the crowd to the bar.He sat down at the bar next a random person and flagged down someone and order himself a drink.He wasn't one to talk to anyone first he like it if people came to talk to him.It wasn't because he was shy or anything.Nates only trouble was he had a hard time knowing what to say to a person.He rather have them start talking to him so he would get an idea on what to talk about.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Lord Ajihad, the Fist of the Demon, watched from across the bar as some sort of fish-man killed a hostile bounty hunter. With his spit. Ajihad grunted. He would have to learn that little trick sometime.

The assassin was on Sluis Van to take out a high-profile political target who was a major supporter of the Republic. He was trying to pass a bill sanctioning Republic garrisons on the planet. Now, he would be found floating face-down in his swimming pool, not far from where Ajihad currently was. Right now, the assassin was just waiting to make sure the after-effects would be beneficial to the One Sith.

However, it seemed the authorities would have a bit of a detour before picking up the body. A small security team burst through the door, weapons raised at the fish-man. Ajihad would be interested to see how this would play out.

[member="Nate Drake"] [member="Icthy Zand"]

 

[Icthy Zand]

"Ah. Officers. Did your work for you. Fatally."​

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Icthy tilted his head and shrugged casually. What were they going to do, arrest a Mandalorian? Good frakking luck to them. As they held their guns on him, the ice melted and fell away from the dead merc's head, leaving only a hole that might have been left by anything. One of the officers, a somewhat snide-looking Bothan, held his gun up to the scaly man's head.​

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"What a freak. Are you talking basic, even?"​

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"Basic? Answer is obvious. Not speaking Huttese, or Bocce."​

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"You little schutta..."​

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The Bothan dug his gun into Icthy's forehead. The blue Mando sighed tiredly.​

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"Answer is clear. You do not appear too fond of breathing."​

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The furred man was about to say something, but he stopped short as Icthy's hand came down onto his face. His fur crystallized and froze, and he stopped breathing as his whole body became covered in frost.​

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"Self defense. Interstellar law clear. Law of strength clear. Neither lets you arrest me."​

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[member="Lord Ajihad"]​

 

[Ibby]

[member="Icthy Zand"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Nate Drake"]

Crix Aigee. Not as notorious as she'd like to be, either as a smuggler or a merchant. Granted, she was notorious for not paying back money on time, but....hey, surely that reputation wouldn't spread out this far, right? To this little dinge-hole?

And it was this little dinge-hole where she was about to save the officers from the blue fishface. Or was it the other way around? Either way, she'd seen what the weirdo alien had done to the Bothan. With his spit. Ewwwww.

No matter. It was time to pretend she was someone notorious. (And drunk.)

"My fellowww offfishurss!" she slurred, staggering into the premises like she, in all her drunken glory, owned it. "Would you really want to fight the Blue Fishy?" Crix draped her arm around one of the officers, a female human who looked at her in disgust.

"Ma'am, you are intoxicated and very close to harassing an officer. I suggest you leave before you are detained."

"Whhoooooo wee! Aren't you crabby?" Chuckling heartily, the Mirialan female reached into her pocket and grabbed the last two credits she had, offering them to the lady with a wink. "Seriously, lady, you donnnn't wanna tangle with Fish Face. Lookit what he done did to your furry friend there!" She leaned in close, adding in a stage-whisper, "You'n I both saw what he did. Go'n find some other fellow to arrest, mkaaaaaaaaay?"

The textile merchant retracted herself from the woman and plopped down next to the sharkbait. Jerking her chin at the bartender like she frequented this place often (she didn't), and grinning like they knew each other (they didn't), Crix then turned to the lone member of the Blue Man Group. "Pretend you know me, friend," she whispered. Then, spreading her arms out wide and blatantly keeping her back to the officers, who no doubt would attempt to arrest her, she proclaimed, "Drinks for everyone! Courtesy of yours truly, these fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine officers here! Oh, and that man." She pointed to a random guy in the crowd, grinning stupidly.

Well, no one could accuse her of being an actor.

 

[Van Rolark]

Detective Van Rolark was seated on a bar stool inside of the club, his gaze glued upon a small, 10 inch Holo-vision in the corner, spectating a sports game. Slowly, he heard the commotion from the opposite side of the club. He sighed, his grim expression remaining. He'd been suspended permanently, for 'Accidently' blasting a Trandoshan scumbag in the face in Coruscant. Shaking his head, he leaned over the table, taking one quick drag from the lit cigarette in his mouth, quickly exhaling the smoke as he extinguished it with a nearby ashtray. Quickly, his hand wrapped around the neck of his bottle of Gin, takes a swig from the bottle, swallowing the clear liquid. With a hesitant expression, he began to make his way over to the other side of the club, preparing to begin shouting in his best foreign accent.

Slowly, he passed the corner, walking slowly over to the scene. "ALRIGHT EVERYBODY! LET'S JUST STOP THE F-OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!" He barked in surprise, dropping the bottle of Gin, ignoring the sound of the glass shattering and the feel of his pant leg covered in the alcoholic beverage. Instinctively, he dropped his hand down to his holster, unlatching it and drawing his DL-44 in a matter of seconds.

"PUT YOUR FETHIN' HANDS UP!"

[member="Crix Aigee"]

[member="Icthy Zand"]

[member="Lord Ajihad"]

[member="Nate Drake"]

 

[Icthy Zand]

Icthy easily picked up on the fact that the Miralan woman who came over was sopping drunk. He also pretty easily picked up on the fact that she was helping him. The blue-skinned man dropped an arm around her and grinned.​

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"Ah, Captain. Happy to see you. Drink would be welcome. Company also welcome."​

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He almost jumped as another drunk man picked up his gun and started yelling. Then his mouth twisted into something like an angry sneer as his gills flared open again.​

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"Not moving. Current intention inadvisable. Holster best place for weapon."​

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[member="Van Rolark"] [member="Crix Aigee"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Nate Drake"]​

 

[Van Rolark]

"DAMMIT, DUDE! JUST...J-J-JUST...GAH! JUST FETHIN' STOP! How 'bout...y-you just......." With a sigh, he shook his head, slowly and hesistantly sliding the blaster back into his holster. Grabbing the yellow pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve, he popped open the pack, plucking a single, white cigarette from the pack and placing it in his mouth. Removing a zippo lighter, he flicked the lid with his thumb, striking the wheel with his thumb.

Quickly, he held the flame up to the tobacco, quickly flipping the lid back and sliding it back into his pocket as he quickly took the cigarette in between his middle and forefinger, exhaling smoke up towards the ceiling, watching as it was swept away by the ceiling fan. Leaning up against the wall, he shook his head for a moment, attempting to evaluate the situation. "Y-y-you...killed that man." He said, his gaze fell to the floor as he placed the cigarette back in his mouth.

Slowly, he glanced back up to the man. "Look...I'm...somewhat of-Well, I am a former detective. So, how 'bout this. You give me your side of the story, we all stay calm, and we render our decision. So...what happened?" He asked, his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, a worried expression on his face.

[member="Icthy Zand"]

[member="Crix Aigee"]

[member="Lord Ajihad"]

[member="Nate Drake"]

 

[Ibby]

[member="Icthy Zand"] [member="Van Rolark"]

Crix sent a little grin at the Fish Face, glad he picked up on her motives -- and that he seemed to believe her drunken charade. The officers seemed to have taken her advice, though a few still gave the pair dirty looks. As for the man who kept shouting and waving his blaster everywhere....

The Mirialan shot him a strange look and jerked a thumb at the alien. "What he said. Put your blaster down, pal," she told him, dropping the drunk act. "And of course he killed the fellow. Now quit being stupid; why give a story when we-- ah, he is completely innocent?"

Speaking of which....

Crix turned to the blue guy, her merchant-smile on her face as she offered a hand. "Name's Crix Aigee. Maybe you've heard of me, maybe you haven't. But it's nice ta meetcha."

 

[Icthy Zand]

Icthy laughed as the Miralan woman suddenly turned out to be completely sober. He took the offered hand and shook it, grinning.​

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"Crix. Never heard of. Often called Icthy. Preferable to actual name. Pronunciation easier."​

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The blue fish-man seemed to be trying to decide where to direct his glare, and ended up sweeping it across the cops and the man with the gun that had finally been holstered.​

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"Officers should know better. Former and current."​

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He gently kicked the dead merc's gun out of his hand, and gestured towards the frozen Bothan man.​

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"Threatening with blasters obviously ineffective."​

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[member="Crix Aigee"] [member="Van Rolark"]​