Dosuun don't suck

[Hard Luck Frank]

He sat quietly beside a guy with greasy hair and too long fingernails. Frank figured he was probably a drug dealer. It seemed like a galactic law that if you sold drugs you had to have greasy hair and long fingernails. The fact that the guy asked if Frank wanted to buy some drugs only added weight to his assumption.

The public transport was the kind that carried all types of folks to places where they hoped things would be better or where they hoped they wouldn't get caught making it worse. There was probably stuff in between there but as the merc looked around he got the impression that his first impression was a pretty good one.

The ship was packed. People with bags, people with tools, and people that might have been pushing the definition of people to various extremes all crammed together like, like stuff you cram together. These ships were all the same. Even the stink of myriad types of body odor was the same. Frank didn't complain. It was cheap travel amd he was the cheap type so it worked out.

He didn't have much for gear. He wore his entire wardrobe, which was just boots, pants, shirt and jacket. They were in good condition mostly, thinning in a few places but ya know no holes yet. He carried two blasters, one even worked, but he forfeited the powerpack when he had boarded. The one that didn't work was big and looked scary enough. That was why he kept it. Lots of people backed down from a big karkin gun, unless they were stupid. It always surprised him how many stupid people he found.

You would think that most people when told you would shoot them in the face would pick another option but more often than not you had to actually shoot them in the face to get them to take you seriously and by then things usually had already started to suck.

The ship landed, and since Frank had finished his last job he decided he could use a drink because what good was making a quick 70k if you didn't go ahead and blow some of it on yourself. Made sense to him anyway. The people formed a haphazard line as they made for the exits, and the merc didn't know which was worse to stand by; the people that smelled like body odor or the people who triwd to drown the smells with chemical fragrances. He probably smelled like body odor so he decided the people who tried to cover it were worse on principle.

On the ground people were searched and questioned and generally treated like really dumb livestock. Frank couldn't complain about that either, they looked like really dumb livestock, so it all made sense.

His first stop was to buy a new power pack but the guy charged him double the going rate and they both knew it. He was going to just shoot the jerk but he needed the power pack first, so he let that go since he had to agree to the price before he got the pack and shooting the guy for what he agreed to seemed like a sucky thing to do. His next stop was the nicest bar he could find, cuz if your gonna blow some credits you may as well do it in a nicenplace. He was still cheap though, so he went in and ordered a glass of the cheap stuff and began loading his blaster. Made sense in a way. Right?

 

[Hansen]

Anari Mero,
Dosuun, Victoria, Entertainment District.

Anari is followed closely behind by her re-programmed antique albeit tall and freshly repainted assassin droid; HK-51 carries the canvas bag filled with food and alcohol with an unconcealed disdain and sadness. "Distraught Query; Master, how long must you insist that I suffer the indignity of carrying this meatsack sustenance?" Anari's left hand grabs at the belt around waist with left-hand and casts a glance over shoulder with a subtle smirk across pursed lips and mockingly answers. "Condescending answer; Until we return it to the Cirrus." Anari saunters confidently pass the scores of individuals leaving a repulsor tram with the lumbering droid just behind her; the Humans always seemed to make way whenever Anari finds herself in crowd with them to her eternal sense of amusement wondering if it was the fact her lofty gaze often found itself craning down upon them or the hulking crimson-coloured droid behind her, whose eyes flicked with a mix of disappointment at his own restraint at this time. ​"Defiant Statement; I shall continue carrying the meatsack sustenance though only because I favour your assassination protocol tuning." A few fair of the citizens and their children spare the Sephi and the mechanical companion close-in tow a sideways glance listening to their comical exchange unfold, but it is at this moment that Anari spots something with her keen sapphires that frighten her; A man heading into a cantina clearly armed with two potent looking blasters, wasn't the open carrying of weapons by unlicensed citizens a crime? Immediately she pushes up on the toes of her boots, scanning further down the sidewalk and then across the street searching for the blue and black equipment of a Police Officer. "Fifty-One, help me look for a Police Officer, quick." Anari's eyes glance around quickly from behind the floral durasteel mask she favoured so much, prompting a question from HK-51. "Excited Query; Is there a criminal on the loose, shall I get to terminate a non-compliant meatsack now, master?" HK's amber eyes swivel around searchingly; not for the individual whom his master is concerned about but rather for an overtly criminal act, his gaze harmlessly passing who unknown to him was Frank; The man whom Anari spoke about as he enters the Cantina. "Supplementary Statement; Crockery and Cutlery can be used to serve food and death in equal measure when wielded by a pair of skilled hands." HK-51 gives an excited shake of the canvas bag perched across his forearms with an audible rattle and clang of silverware contained within.

[member="Hard Luck Frank"]

 

[Hard Luck Frank]

"You can't do that here, Sir." The barkeeper said, as he stared unappreciatively at the now loaded blaster pistol on his bar.

Frank didn't really know what precisely "That" was referring to. Did he mean sit? Did he mean put the blaster down? It was really hard to tell. If he had been slightly less polite and just said what he meant everyone would be perfectly able to just fix stuff and move on with the day but since Frank wasn't sure which thing he was doing that wasn't allowed here he did what made sense.

"Do what?" he asked as he froze in place just incase they had a security guard with him in sights already. Hey, it was possible.

"You can't openly carry a loaded blaster with out a permit, Sir." The guy replied.

"What about if I carry it, like, not openly?" Frank replied.

"You still need a permit." The barkeep said.

"Then why did you say 'openly carry'?" Frank said as he grabbed his blaster, unloaded the power pack, and holstered the blaster in the underarm holster beneath his jacket. "You could have just said 'carry' and that would have covered it and been fewer words."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The man said as he looked toward the door.

"Why, though?" Frank said confused, considering he had just put the blaster away and was ready to spend copious amounts of money on booze, in a bar, which was literally the best place to buy copious amounts of booze.

"Because you're carrying an illegal firearm in an officer's bar." The bar keep replied.

Frank looked around and found that nearly every patron was in a uniform of some kind or other and the one's that weren't were still dressed like they had money. He thought about leaving, but to be honest he was thirsty and he had to pee. He could have been ok with finding a new place to drink but who knew how long it would take to find another place to pee? There was one problem with staying though. He wasn't an officer, and he was really bad at lying. He looked at the man then at the ceiling, and then he looked at the people again.

"I have a permit for it." That was true, he had always heard that the best lies had truth in them. It was a permit on a different planet but he didn't have to admit that part to some barkeeper, "And I'm an officer." Lie, such a lie.

The barkeep looked at him with that 'you're lying face'.

"You're lying." He said.

"Pfft, no." Frank replied.

"Ok, what rank are you?" The barkeeper asked.

Frank thought about it. He was taking to long and he knew it. Crap, he was sure he would get caught on this one if he didn't just pick something.

"Captain fourth class." He said not even sure if there was such a thing.

"There's no such thing." The man replied.

"Crap." Frank said, "Can I use your bathroom then?"

"I'm calling the authorities if you don't leave now." The human replied.

"Look, I don't want trouble, but if you don't let me pee before I go I am going to pee on your door." Frank said plainly.

"You'd get arrested for peeing in public." The barkeep replied.

"What they got pee detectors out side?" Frank asked, "I'd be gone before they got here and your door will smell like urine."

"You're disgusting." The barkeep said as the bouncer moved closer.

"So, can I pee first?" Frank said.

"It's on your left through the door." He said as he moved to talk with the bouncer.

"Thanks, chief." He said on account as he would much rather not have to pee on a door outside. He wasn't what you might call upper class but he had some pride, and getting arrested for public peeing was one thing he hoped to keep off his personal record.

He went to the restroom, peed, washed his hand, mostly because they had cloth towels and he wanted to see what that was like, but you know, for health things too. He waved as he left and the guy didn't wave back. Probably because he was a jerk. Not so much a jerk for telling him to leave but more because the bouncer met him at the bathroom door and punched Frank in the face. It hadn't been a nice thing to do at all. He told the guy it wasn't nice to hit customers, before he decided he would just leave. The bouncer was so dumbfounded that Frank didn't resist he just watched him go.

Frank walked out of the bar and back onto the street where he lit a half broken cigarra and looked up and down the street. There had to be another bar someplace around here.


[member="Anari Mero"]

 

[Rhaelor Vasilios]

Had been sitting on the Cantina the entire time. Witnessing [member="Hard Luck Frank"] 's confrontation and eventual rolling over to the bar tender.
Rhaelor, like most in the area, work patched up and a little worse for wear military leggings and jacket, the kind usually worn beneath armor.
His head remained still even while his force vision gave him a complete 360 degree view of his surroundings at all times, allowing him to spy the HK unit and it's master, seeing within her that the forced flowed through and around her, marking her a force user, or force sensitive at the very least. He made a note in the back of his mind before suddenly invading that of the bartender with ease.

**The bartender would follow Frank out the door, "Forget about what I said, I get it, youre just looking gor a drink. How about you come back inside and have a few rounds on the house?" He offered before looking to the bouncer "If any authorities show up asking questions, tell them the situations been handled."
He'd then look back to Frank, awaiting his answer.**

Back inside the bar Rhaelor smiled to himself, enjoying the control he had over another. However. He remained quietly tucked away in the shadowed corner of the Cantina, drinking his 'Korriban Red Water'



[member="Anari Mero"]