Faith

[Hal Terrano]

Telos

He stared into the bottom of an empty glass.

A fire slide down his throat and into his belly, warming him in ways he had never known. In one breathe it relaxed him and the next it repulsed. Conflict abounds.

Hal Terrano had come to Telos in his wandering. He was a man lost, a Jedi fallen and had now resorted to rambling across the galaxy. From planet to planet he went, attempting to untangle the labyrinth that was his thoughts. What was he? Who was he? For all his years of being alive he had been nothing but a devout Jedi. The man had known two things. Justice. Discipline.

No more however.

Now there was Whyren's Reserve; his drink of choice for his week upon Telos. Another vow broken, poison allowed to circulate around his system, running rampant, dampening his judgement, breaking his spirit.

Was this just another cantina thread? Yes.

But it was substantially sadder than that. Head swimming, already half-cut those icy blue eyes looked to the bartender, who was engaged in conversation with one of his regulars.

“Another.”

 

[Razz Michaels]

The burnt crime lord walked into the cantina with his two bodyguards Raul and Zane.

"Go enjoy yourselves boys, wenhad a rough day." He said before Raul and Zane walked to a empty booth and sat.

Razz walked to the bar, his body burned like hell. He sat next to a man who seemed...well depressed.

He decided to talk to him.

"Don't dwell on the past, live in the present but look forward to the future. Things change, will you be ready?" He said while looking straight ahead, not caring to look at the man.

Hopefully he would respond and take Razz's words into his heart.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Basark Blu]

He sat at the end of the bar, taking another shot of his delicious Tequila. He let out a sigh, looking forward to the empty seat across from him. Another shot, another, and another. He wanted to get drunk, he really wanted to get drunk. After all, he was drinking to forget. He gripped onto the neck of the bottle, emptying it in the shot glass, splattering most of it onto the table. He then set the bottle back down, gripping the glass. He let out another sigh, quickly holding the glass up to his mouth, gulping it down in a second or less. He then chuckled, taking the shot glass and throwing it across the bar, listening as his glass shattered. He already had a light buzz but planned to get a full hangover by morning.

[member="Razz Michaels"]

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Credits were exchanged and a new glass was placed before him, filled with that fiery amber that was fast becoming his new favourite poison. It had been so long since the sins of her flesh, he was fast forgetting her touch, that embrace. Principles gone. Broken. He was not a Jedi.

“No,” he murmured, “I'm not ready.”

A swig. More fire pouring down his throat. The whisky caused him to cough and hack, after all, he was no veteran alcoholic. Baby steps, we'll get there.

“Why do things change?”

A shattering of glass roused Hal from his coma of despair and his head snapped sideways to the point of noise. Big Devaronian at the end of the bar, not the kinda guy you want to be starting a brawl with. However his judgement was skewed, sense was lost.

“There's no need for that,” he said to the brute, voice abrupt and scolding but still naturally devoid of emotion.

[member="Razz Michaels"], [member="Basark Blu"]

 

[Razz Michaels]

“Why do things change?” the man said.

"We do not know for certain but change is always for the better." He said before looking the man.

"There is no need for that" the man said to another at the end of the bar.

"Yes, there Is no need." He said agreeing with the man.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Razz Michaels." He said befor putting his hand out for a handshake.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Basark Blu]

"It's neccaccary, because I fethin' f-f-feel like fething d-d-doing it!" He mumbled, his words a drunken mess. "T-t-t-that w-was supposed to be a bottomless shot glass, then they don't give me no refuels!" He said with an intoxicated smile. "I need t-t-to g-get some m-m-more tequila. I'm really g-g-g-good at what I f-f-f-fething d-do!" He declared, chuckling rather loudly. He then stumbled over to the bar, motioning the bartender over. "Gimmie a f-full bottle of P-Potwa b-beer", He requested, waiting for a response. "Twenty-five credits, please", the innocent female bartender said. "Beautiful, I work 'ere. T-this is m-m-my fething b-bar!" He shot back, anger in his tone. The bartender just laughed, turning her gaze to another customer.

[member="Razz Michaels"]

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[The Upright Man]

A woman sat towards a corner that still gravitated towards the middle of the room. Her cyan eyes watched Hal with a piercing intensity. There was no doubting she knew who, or rather, what he was. Since the bounties had gone out en masse, every cantina Lily had entered was followed by a now-routine identification scan of the room. When all Jedi and Sith were suddenly wanted, it paid to check if anyone with a price was around. As the saying went; every door, every floor. While she was relatively unarmed, she was not without protection. Under her clothes was an armorweave bodysuit, and sitting over her shoulders was a durasteel chestplate. A lone helmet sat on the table. Her job required a specific amount of awareness. She was highly wanted in some sectors for crimes she had committed. Especially Hapes after a certain Jedi Master was thrown out the window of a 164th of a residential building. Splat. The thought alone made her glance down, eyes delicately paying attention to the trophy that hung from her belt. A set of headtresses formerly belonging to a Nautolan. The now dead, Jedi Master [member="Hasjo Hallu"]. She had skilfully severed them from his scalp upon his death. She looked back up to Hal, watching from afar. She wouldn't make a move, for now.


[member="Hal Terrano"] | [member="Basark Blu"] | [member="Razz Michaels"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Oh dear. Hal Terrano had seemingly taken a seat next to Space Confucius and the Intoxicated Hulk. Not the best bedfellows for bar time banter, although Hal himself being this galaxy's very incarnation of Buzz Killington made this quite the motley crew, bartenders across the galaxy suddenly wept for their comrade caught in these respective stories.

“That is not true,” Hal responded bluntly, sitting firmly on the side that said that not all change is for the best. Ask any member of the Republic if the change of power upon Coruscant was a good thing, no really, I'll wait. The stoic blonde didn't take Razz up on his handshake, merely glancing down at the man's hand and then back up at his face.

“I am Hal.” No last names. Just Hal.

Icy blue eyes narrowed upon the large Devaronian, his disapproval plain for all to see. “Don't you think you've had enough?” he queried in that serious tone, still remaining upon his own bar stool.

[member="Razz Michaels"], [member="Basark Blu"], [member="Luminous"]

 

[Don Mobror]

The Sith slowly approached the bar, sending the front door swinging open using the force. He slowly stepped inside, his mask hidden in his black trench coat. Red hair dangled down from his head as he headed over to the bar. "I seek a man by the name of-" He was interrupted as the bartender begun shouting. "GET OUTTA 'ERE, SITHSPIT!" The bartender then gestured over towards the door. "How unfortunate..." He quickly raised his hand, creating a strange sensation around the bartender's throat. Seconds later, the bartender clutched his throat as he slowly lost air, due to the force choke. "I expected more respect..." He replied, chuckling as the bartender continued to gag. He glanced over to the other patrons in the bar, grinning. "How are we all today?" Before returning his gaze back to the bartender. "Now...one last time. I'm looking for a man, he's a bounty hunter and is about-" Once again, the bartender attempted to shout, but with a flick of his wrist, Don sent the man flying into the counter which was only a few inches behind the bartender. Bottles shattered as the bartender fell to the ground, gasping for air. He shook his head, slowly taking a seat beside [member="Hal Terrano"].