One for the Money, Two for the Show(Open)

[Varro Shatterstar]

​

Corellia​

​

The Blue Moon Stripclub​

11:57 PM - Saturday Night​

"Another whiskey, sweetheart.", said a young, confident voice emitted by perhaps the prettiest young face in the entire club. At least, that's exactly what he thought he was, but who was Varro to put thoughts into other people's heads? Who was he to speak for them and admit the obvious? He was karking gorgeous, and they all knew it, whether or not they were willing to admit it or just too stubborn to come to the realization that he was, is and forever would be far superior to such rabble. "And keep them coming if you don't mind.", he said with a light smirk as he reached over and slapped the pretty, green Twi'Lek with the thighs of a goddess on her ass, which caused her to hop just a bit, not having expected it at all.

She wanted to be mad and feel objectified, but Varro made that hard on a lot of women he'd toyed with over the years. Most of them just bit their tongues, some even responding to it positively and catering to his advances, but every now and again there was one who would turn and slap him right across his pretty face or scoff at him like he were merely some arrogant boy. Perhaps he was exactly just that, a boy in a man's body who was far more confident than he had any right being, but he was a good looking man, and he knew the ways of the force. Looks and power had gotten him by so far, and so what else would he possibly need to rely on?

"Let's see what you're hiding, woman!", Varro called out with a bit of a laugh, a smile forming in the corners of his lips as he rocked back in his seat and propped either of his legs up on the table at which he was sitting. He pushed back so that he was leaning on the back to legs of his seat, arms crossed with a short topped glass resting against his left bicep, clutched by his right hand, which he downed with one big gulp as the waitress returned with his drink. As she traded glasses with the young man, Varro glanced up at the woman with that confident look and asked her, "What would it take to get you up on that stage, beautiful? You don't seem dressed for it, so I have to assume you're not employed as a dancer.", he told her, making the assumption and offering her an alternative before she could answer.

"Perhaps a private dance if the price is right?", he asked her, expecting to be turned down one way or the other. He knew this one had standards, but perhaps if he prodded and picked just enough, she'd lose her patience and allow him the opportunity to manipulate the situation.

 

[Placeholder 01]

Why Corellia? Because his advisers had told him such. No others within the legion had come - he woud not ask them to delve into such depravity for the sake of honor alone. Delam's hunt was a private one for now. Important men and women were beginning to grow suspicious of the legion's activities. Some saw their investigations as pointless, others were threatened.

Delam had ordered Zenith Prime's defenses shored up and pressed the importance of these investigations to his supporters. The people had wholeheartedly agreed - his warriors were good about that.

Yet, sometimes, one's purpose drove them into the darker corners of the galaxy. Sometimes one had to leave he glory of the battlefield and the honest realm of honorable combat to find the answers they sought. Unfortunately, not everyone conceded to the law of the blade when someone felt they had been wronged. Certain people required you to dig until they noticed the hole you'd made.

With this in mind, Delam had followed an anonymous tip on a spice exchange funded by the council. Another credit dump that extended across multiple worlds and ruined the lives of thousands within that web. The man he was looking for was the king-pin, a male Rutian Twi'lek by the name of Gafen, or so he was told.

This gentleman's club was supposed to be one of the places he frequented. Hideous.

The High Lord had forgone his armor for this outing, opting for a simple leather jacket by means of clothing. His DC-15 would do the job if he was successful. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and sidled up to the bar alongside [member="Varro Shatterstar"] and his concubine.

"Do you know of Gafen?" He asked bluntly, eyes narrowed.

 

[Jimmy Salts]

Jimmy walked into the club, his mask would either draw attention to him, or conceal him, it did not matter, he had the perfect prank planned, it involved acid, one of his favorite pranking tools, acid burned, but didnt normally kill, just a harmless prank, it was hydro-something acid, it didnt matter, most acids were not that deadly. He was assured by the man in the shady back alley that this was perfectly harmless, and will not melt off your face at all!

He upon walking in saw someone chatting up someone, he saw the perfect opportunity for a prank, he manipulated the fluids in his body to make him vomit all over his mate, he would never know why he vomited, but Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle.

He sat down near a young man, and what appeared to be a military guy, probably wouldn't prank them, as long as they weren't after his bounties.
[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Varro Shatterstar"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Music

The last time Keira had been on Corellia the encounter had ended in a bar fight that had somehow cumulated to an uneasy friendship before the pair could ever part ways. A shared heritage had done some job of bridging the gap between them, even if he had walked away with internal damage and she with a limp. Now she was back on her homeplanet for reasons not dissimilar to those the previous time around. Of late war and politics had been all she knew, so it was nice to have recompense, even if this wasn't exactly the greatest venue to do so, though plenty would argue otherwise. How she managed to find herself in a strip club was anyone's guess, but teenage years spent in a criminal syndicate had somewhat desensitized her to these neon-lit surroundings.

Already she was nursing a slight buzz, that sensation of lightheadedness traversing throughout her entire form until a feeling of semi-weightlessness pervaded to every extremity. It had been a long while since she had imbibed in enough alcohol to begin drawing any sort of pleasant sensation, so this was a change in itself. In the present moment she had cut out a small niche for herself near the edge of the room, just about halfway between the stage and the bar proper. The venue was nearly perfect for observation, something she didn't care entirely too much about just then. Enough of her life had been occupied looking out for the next fight or adversary. Now was time to forget that facet ever existed, at least for a little while.

[member="Varro Shatterstar"] was doing a fine enough job of drawing attention to himself as it was, but a vague spark of recognition ran through her regardless. He was one she had clashed with on this or that past battlefield, more like than not one that wasn't important enough to remember with any clarity. Regardless, she let her head fall forward to rest on her arms that were folded on the table before her, eyes sliding shut as she breathed a heavy sigh. No, she would most certainly not be dealing with him or any of his ilk today. This was her opportunity to avoid conflict, not instigate it, and from what little she was able to recall he had been an annoyance anyhow. All I ask is one night. Apparently that was too much.

[member="Jimmy Salts"], [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Sal entered the establishment through the front door and grimaced at the sudden flare of strobing, multi-colored lights. Bunch of epileptic kids were probably somewhere out there, dreaming about what happened inside these places. Crying shame. The dirty truth was that the Blue Moon hid its filth beneath a literal layer of perfume. Sal could smell the undertones of sweat and body odor. His lips pulled back on the left side as his gaze swept the room. Sometimes the Firrerreon half could be a blessing. Other times...

The half-breed sighed and pushed back his long, disheveled hair with callous fingers. Amber eyes swept the room, found his quarry, narrowed slightly, then moved on. He noted a number of weapons hidden beneath clothes, tucked into waistbands, or carried openly. Katarn himself carried a slug thrower in a shoulder holster, only partially hidden by the open brown vest he wore over a white thermal.

Pushing through the crowd, he managed to make his way to a spot he'd noted earlier. Good observation and only one person at the table, a dark haired woman who looked to be drifting asleep ([member="Keira Ticon"]). All the other tables were relatively full, or occupied by more awake patrons. Sal pulled out a chair, gave a sidelong glance at the woman, then settled down. He put his boots up on the table, eyes sweeping the room until they found his target again. Katarn concentrated, tuning out the noise of the club as best he could and making out snippets of the conversation with heightened hearing.

Gafen? Interesting...


[member="Varro Shatterstar"] | [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Aava had stopped off on Corellia to resupply The Screaming Brezak, an Aurore-Class II Freighter that she'd recently purchased. She had no sentient cargo at the moment and was in between slaving runs. Since her ship was fairly new, the Zygerrian slaver was spending time shuttling slaves back and forth instead of buying and selling her own cargo. But once she got The Brezak packed full with water and non-perishable food for the slaves – like dewback and bantha jerky, she would be able to pick up a few... and hopefully get them to their destination without dying as a couple of already half-starved Talz had on her last trip.

This one Corellian diner also had the best broiled rancor liver which is also why Aava had made a pit stop. She’d just finished eating, and now she was strolling along licking her claws clean, when she spied The Blue Moon StripClub. A cold refreshing drink would be nice about now to wash down all of that fatty rancor liver, she thought, her mouth beginning to water. A long, rough tongue caressed her upper muzzle as she entered the club, not without a brief frisking by an overly handsy bouncer. The weapons search was a poorly veiled attempt at fondling her though and he barely gave her shock whip and blaster a second glance.

“Don’t you get enough dosha at the club?” she hissed at the muscle-bound human doorman when she was nearly out of earshot. The Zygerrian slaver slid up to the bar, ordered a Corellian nectar and surveyed the club.

Aava wasn’t here on business, but she’d be leaving this world with a fully stocked ship. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford a couple of unexpected passengers.

[member="Varro Shatterstar"] [member="Delam Mairev"] [member="Jimmy Salts"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Sal Katarn"]

 

[Varro Shatterstar]

Varro hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings, his amber gaze trained upon the stage across the room as the goddess who possessed the attention of the room swayed her hips back and forth. She was of a form the likes of which he had only seen a few times, and he would have preferred to see much more of her, but as she began to peel her top free of her supple bosom his attention was drawn from him by a deep voice. "Do you know of Gafen?", asked the deep and unfamiliar voice, which drew an odd glance from Varro as he arched a brow and glanced over at the older man next to him.

"Unless she has a big pair of tits and is about to share them with a number of eager eyes, then no. No I do not.", Varro stated, no humor to his tone, though when he chose to respond sarcastically or add a touch of arrogance, he typically had a smile, or even a smirk to share. He'd been interrupted, however, and as he took a sip from his glass of whiskey, there was no smile to be had as his eyes bore down on the man next to him. "Should this name mean anything to me?", he asked, wanting to get to the point, which was a bit odd for a man like Varro. Typically he played with his food before he ate, but he did not know this man, or the one of whom he spoke, and there was a naked woman on stage from which his attention had been taken.

"This about a job?", he finally asked, unwilling to look upon the man's mug any longer as he turned his eyes back to the Blue Moon employee who was presently twirling her bare body around a pole with practiced skill.



[member="Aava Sasithorn"] - [member="Delam Mairev"] - [member="Jimmy Salts"] - [member="Keira Ticon"] - [member="Sal Katarn"]

 

[Jimmy Salts]

Jimmy might as well have a drink while he waited for someone to prank, somone would come eventually he knew it.

Dont do it man, your killing people stop.....

Jimmy didnt know what that voice was in the back of his head, it seemed hard to belive, it was almost reasonable, but no he had to go through with this prank, it was just a prank it didnt hurt people not in the slightest.

ITS HYDROCLHORIC ACID IT WILL KILL THEM

This voice, what why was it telling him this, he knew the acid wouldnt kill people, or would it..... Who was this voice, it sounded an awful lot like him, but not fully like him, it was strange, almost comforting, but he couldnt listen to it, just voices in his head is all......
--------------------------------------------
The old Jimmy was trapped, trapped within the recesses of his mind, trapped for now, but he would find a way out. He had been trapped here since his brother was murdered, his brain accepting the insane Jimmy, the insane Jimmy, he was stuck, he would need to find a way out, all he could do was attempt to make the new Jimmy see reason, but this would be very hard, he could not do much, and as long as his brain was in insane mode, he would be stuck, stuck in this place, stuck here, in what Old Jimmy could equate to a mental jail cell, he would need to find a way out, or else.... he didnt want to think about it, it was too terrible to think what could happen if this Jimmy could be allowed to run around any longer.
--------------------------------------------
Jimmy ordered a drink, just a simple beer, he wasn't going for anything fancy not today at least. For now he would sit here, waiting for the perfect target.
[member="Varro Shatterstar"]
[member="Aava Sasithorn"]
[member="Sal Katarn"]
[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Keira Priest]

[member="Sal Katarn"] wouldn't be entirely wrong in his assessment that Keira was nearly drifting off to sleep, but she wasn't nearly as unaware as most would be led to believe. While her physical senses were dulled by the drowsiness that had overtaken her those that resided within the ethereal were stretched about her form in invisible wisps reminiscent of a spider's web, functioning as an early alarm system. When he entered her vicinity she was instantly aware of his presence, but didn't make any acknowledgement of his existence until he sat down across from her. Momentarily she stirred, remaining in relatively the same position, a quiet yawn seeming to breathe more life into her form, her sixth sense honing in on him specifically.

Cobalt eyes peered blearily at the new arrival over folded arms, and after a few seconds of watching him she raised her head completely, running her fingers through her hair. Absently she reached into the inside pocket of her jacket to produce a flask, knocking back the equivalent of a single shot before returning it to its proper place. Even as she did so she had already begun the process of clearing enough of the alcohol from her bloodstream so she could think moderately clearly, not wanting to be caught off guard. Still no words were put forth, and she glanced briefly to [member="Varro Shatterstar"] and [member="Delam Mairev"], where his attention seemed to be drawn, before looking back to the stranger.

Clearing her throat she leaned back in her chair, voice still slightly rough, sleep not an entirely forgotten thing just yet. "Is there something I can help you with?"

[member="Aava Sasithorn"], [member="Jimmy Salts"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua walked into the club with a bit of embarrassment. Not at the fact that he was going to a strip club, but what he was going to be doing at it. Sure, he'd done bodyguard work at plenty of these places, but the job he had taken on made his nerves curl up in his body. Today, he wasn't dressed in his battle armor, but a black wife-beater and grey cargo pants, accentuating his muscle tone and dark skin. The massive Herglic wasn't on guard duty today, but as entertainment.

Not the dancing kind. One would have to pay him by the millions to get him to shake his thing. No, he was going to sing at this chithole. Yeah, it was embarrassing for Ghorua to show off his voice. He was a big, intimidating Bounty Hunter. He had a reputation to uphold. That's why he was starting his music career on Corellia; he didn't know anyone here.

Walking immediately to the bartender, passing a couple of patrons ([member="Keira Ticon"] and [member="Sal Katarn"]), Ghorua spoke, his deep bass voice shaking the glasses on the table. "Excuse me, I'm... I'm Fish-Lips." Ghorua cringed at his stage-name. His mother called him that when he used to perform at family gatherings, so he only thought it as an homage to her to use it.

The bartender looked way, way up at the ten-foot monstrosity, and nodded. "Yeah, alright, 'Fish-Lips', you're scheduled after this song. Head up to that side-stage, and we'll tell you when the girls are ready."

Nodding his head, the Herglic began to push through the crowd, avoiding the bug-eyed stares of drunk men, and the sex-eyes of drunk women. Or perhaps it was the other way around? The Herglic didn't pay much attention to them as he made his way to the stage, and waited.

- [member="Jimmy Salts"] - [member="Varro Shatterstar"] - [member="Aava Sasithorn"] - [member="Delam Mairev"] -

 

[Sal Katarn]

The girl shifted, eyes bleary, words slurred as she spoke to him, disrupting his concentration. Katarn glanced at her sidelong and gave a non-affirming grunt. "No."

He'd hoped she would be out for another few minutes at least.

Sal crossed his arms, fabric of his thermal shifting. Boots up, arms crossed, he seemed entirely at ease. Lax, even. But a trained eye would note how near his right hand rested to the pistol in the shoulder holster. Perfectly positioned for a quick cross-draw.

His attention began to shift back to the quarry, when an enormous, blubbery figure lumbered by, each footfall causing the ground to quake slightly in protest. Katarn's eyes narrowed, then widened as the creature made his way toward the stage. Sudden, unbidden images of the Herglic attempting an exotic dance in the sleeveless tank assaulted Sal's mind. He grimaced.

First of all, he didn't even think that those poles were rated for Herglics. Secondly.... he shared a look with the girl at his table, then shook his head and leaned back.

"Kark me."

[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Jimmy Salts"] | [member="Varro Shatterstar"] | [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Mmm." That non-committal murmur was a sufficient response to both of his vocalizations, and Keira let it remain as her only verbal acknowledgement of his presence as she collected herself, pulling all of her awareness back to this single location for the time being. As much of a potential nuisance this new arrival was, he at the very least seemed agreed to a mutual ignorance of the other's existence for the sake of keeping things simple. Or, well, almost simple, had she not caught his hand drifting towards what she assumed to be a weapon slowly, ever-cautiously. In that same breath she became acutely aware of the weaponry on her person, from the pistol carried openly at her hip to the lightsaber in a pocket on the inside of her jacket and the collapsed and concealed slugthrower pistol on her right forearm.

Her gaze was more centralized now, intoxication being driven from her, that steady buzz departing with each second that passed. A shame she couldn't enjoy the peace for just awhile longer, but it was a rare day when she was granted any in the first place. A slow, crooked and barely noticeable smile turned up the corners of her mouth at his final two words, and she glanced sideways at the Herglic before turning her attention back to the figurative man of the hour. "What is it you want, then? Can't imagine you sat down here to make a new friend." Strip clubs weren't the most conducive to lasting friendships, anyhow. They catered far more to unrequited lust and broken hearts, neither of which this one seemed to possess.

[member="Sal Katarn"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Jimmy Salts"], [member="Varro Shatterstar"], [member="Aava Sasithorn"], [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Sal snorted. "Nope."

Eyes the pallor of dark honey, light brown with hints of gold, continued to look in the direction of the quarry, until a prickling along the spine announced her continued and substantially more alert stare. Katarn reluctantly broke visual contact with the target - didn't look like much was happening anyway - and reevaluated the girl sitting next to him.

Brunette tresses hung low, shadowing one eye. The other stared at him, oddly cognizant for one who'd been about to pass out just a minute ago. A shocking blue too, like lightning in a bottle. Vibrant, maybe even dangerous. Katarn cocked his head. A web of melted, discolored flesh marred the right side of her jaw. Burnt maybe. There was another scar, a wicked line that traveled diagonally across her throat before disappearing underneath her shirt. Katarn had seen scars like that before.

He scratched at the stubble on his cheek, then shrugged. Nothin' interesting happening with him anyhow.

Katarn glanced back toward [member="Delam Mairev"], directing her attention.

"You know who that is?" He said at last, voice rough as a keelhaul.

[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

The peppy, upbeat song ringing throughout the club dimmed slowly as Ghorua got the go-ahead. Walking to the middle of the side-stage, the Herglic brought up a microphone stand, and set it down. With a nod to the bartender, who was giving him the thumbs up, Ghorua began his performance.

The lights in the strip club immediately dimmed, still bright enough to see rough outlines of bodies. A spotlight slammed into existence on the Herglic, who had brought the microphone to his lips. A few backup singers filed behind the Herglic, all scantily-clad human girls. Slow, ringing tones began to play in the backround. His deep, gravelly voice oozed throughout the establishment.

"So... What do you wanna do?"

https://youtu.be/Px1EFfP0v9A

Just as soon as he began his number, multitudes of strippers of all different species began to stream from the back rooms, beginning their multiple routines for the guests. Multi-colored strobe lights began to waved lazily around, illuminating sweaty forms and sultry dances. Ghorua lost himself in his own music, forgetting about performing. The song felt touching, intimate, and strangely romantic, considering who's voice it was. Ghorua spied a few of the dancers in the back, who had simply stopped what they were doing to watch him. With a wink to them, the genetic monster continued to sing, his deep voice enticing, entrancing, enchanting.

The number was written by Ghorua a few weeks ago on the job. He hadn't thought about music in a long time, not for a few years at least. The large whale had all but abandoned that dream, but recent events had shown him that he needed something away from Bounty Hunting. Something that gave him a rush without endangering his life. Music was that rush for him. The idea of expressing himself veiled in a catchy tune appealed to him, and his family had always said that he had a sexy voice. If only you had a face to boot, his mother would say.

With a smile, Ghorua finished the number, and let the instruments fade out.

- [member="Keira Ticon"] - [member="Sal Katarn"] - [member="Jimmy Salts"] - [member="Varro Shatterstar"] - [member="Aava Sasithorn"] - [member="Delam Mairev"] -

 

[Eryn]

The strip club erupted with noise. Applause roiled through the crowd, cheers and hoots of approval were broadcast loudly, especially from those who'd already had a few at the bar. One rowdy Rodian stood on his chair in the corner, honking for more as his buddies tried to drag him back down.

Eryn mimed clapping, the tiniest of smiles at the corner of her lips. She'd picked a good spot to people-watch.

Drawing attention to herself was definitely not on tonight's menu, but the guy deserved a round of applause. He was good. 'course, anything sounded good after four days in the bowels of an old ship; the engine was on death's door, the air scrubber system sounded like an acklay with a cold, and every four minutes the piping running through the interior bulkhead ran auditions for the galaxy's next best drummer. She didn't know much about music. The only time she was ever able to hear it was when she was casing joints like this, and most of it was just speedy techno racket. This? Way different, and a total treat. She didn't have a clue what species he was, but he sure had a set of pipes. Maybe he'd do another.

Not that she could afford the distraction. She was here for a reason, and while she was very comfortable from her vantage point, falling onto the tables below meant bad news.

...And death, probably. At this height? Yeah, that too.

The fugitive shifted a little, thighs gripping the rafter she was laying on as she wormed forward on her stomach. Above the lit catwalks that crisscrossed through the air over the main floor, a thick darkness covered the network of beams, roof supports, and maintenance access points that stretched throughout the whole room. It was easy enough to drop down through one of the hatches that led to the roof, and navigating the rafters was cake for Eryn. Usually, at least. It was harder on an empty stomach, but she'd managed to eat today, so she wasn't too worried.

Legs and arms wrapped around the beam, she paused her war crawl towards the middle and peered out at the floor beneath her, blue eyes sharp as she raked her gaze over each table. Most were full, too much going on. A few were more interesting.


A man and a woman occupied one. She couldn't make out what they were sayin', nor could she discern details from so high up, but they didn't look like they knew each other.
A male in a leather jacket (was that a DC-15 on his hip? Sweet.) was exchanging words with another at the bar, who could barely tear his attention away from anything with boobs.
A masked character at the bar who, honestly, she couldn't even begin to figure out.
There was a Zygerrian at the entrance. Eryn watched her slink towards the bar and order a drink.


She huffed a sigh, sitting upright, legs dangling on either side of the rafter. The little silver metal bars on the heels of her boots flashed in the bright neon lights. Eryn did a quick, cautionary sweep of the darkness around her before surveying the scene on the catwalks again. No one was drunk enough to follow back to their ships yet, and the nightlife was just getting started.

Good thing she had time to spend.


|- [member="Ghorua the Shark"] -| |- [member="Sal Katarn"] -| |- [member="Keira Ticon"] -| |- [member="Jimmy Salts"] -| |- [member="Varro Shatterstar"] -| |- [member="Aava Sasithorn"] -| |- [member="Delam Mairev"] -|

 

[Dani Ticon]

Dani Ticon aka [member="Keira Ticon"]'s older sister was at the club as well, however she wasn't there as a dancer or a patron. No she was there for a very different reason, reasons like large fish people who had quite the substantial bounty on their head and whose movements she'd been tracking over the holonet. That was what the woman wanted and while she was certain fighting a whale person might of put her at a slight disadvantage, she did have one thing over him. Guns, oh guns how they were great. Big ones, small ones, automatic ones, ones that went boom, and others that went pew.

Did she particularly give a crap about any other patrons in the bar? Nope, but she wasn't aware of her sisters presence as well, this was just another job. So adorned in her Olympian combat armor with a rather angry looking double barreled sawed off shotgun in her hands with twin bayonets on it the woman kept a short sword on her back and carried a net gun on her hip along with a small holdout pistol on her thigh.

If there was one thing Dani wasn't it was subtle and in a close quarters area like this she really didn't have to be, it was a strip club after all. So coming in through the service door out of sight of most patrons the woman approached the stage from the side where the fish man was located and twiddled her fingers at the man in a way that sweetly conveyed hello so he could see her from his peripheral vision.

"I'm gonna make this simple, hop down and come with me outside so we can deal with particular situation or I'm gonna ventilate your chest with mister twelve gauge here." the woman said from bellow her helmet.

"Your choice fish sticks." She said as she cocked back both hammers on the shotgun.

Over in the distance Keira would be able to hear the voice of her big sister as clear as day. It was time to make some money.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] [member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Varro Shatterstar]

"Look, guy. I-Hey!", Varro exclaimed as he felt a pair of dainty hands wrap around his left arm and pull against him, which was certainly surprising after having been at the bar waiting on a response from the antisocial lumberjack. He didn't say much, which didn't surprise the young Dark Sider at all. Most men like him who had a bad attitude and a job to focus on tended to be pricks, but who was he to say who this man was? In fact, the only name he'd gotten out of the guy belonged to someone else who he was almost certain he wouldn't give a damn about, but then again, he didn't care about anyone else but himself. "Woah, now. Come on.", Varro complained as he pushed up off of his bar stool and got his balance before he turned to see a bright young blonde's big blue eyes.

"VARRO!", she screamed, which instantly put a smile on the young man's face as she jumped up and whipped both of her arms over broad shoulders, a big, soft chest meeting a hard muscled one as the girl embraced him. "Candy!... hey, Sweetheart.", he finally managed to as he reached up with strong hands to wrap each of his digits around her dainty little waist and let her back down so that he could see her. "Excitable as always, I see.", Varro said, having to lean down close to the young woman's ear in order for her to hear him above the obnoxious base. "I'm so happy you came to see me!", she squeaked with a happy look on her face, though Varro hadn't come to see Candy at all. Well... perhaps he'd just agree that she wasn't the only one he'd come to see.

"Look, that's really sweet, b-wha, Candy come on!", Varro said in protest as she took his arm, ignored what he was saying and turned with him, leading him off to the private rooms section of the club, which he would loved to have entered with her, but something was a little off that evening. Something was telling him to be watchful and careful, or to just leave and cut the night short. "Candy, you know I don't pay for dances.", Varro said firmly as they passed an interesting little scene which included a tiny young woman brandishing a shotgun that was far too big for her and the big fish guy who'd just performed. "You're getting more than a lap dance, idiot, and I didn't ask you to pay for anything.", Candy said over her shoulder as Varro halted his feet for a moment.

"Hey! Chick! Stow the cannon!", he yelled at Dani.

[member="Dani Ticon"] - [member="Keira Ticon"] - [member="Ghorua the Shark"] - [member="Eryn"] - [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Aava Sasithorn"] - [member="Jimmy Salts"] - [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Keira Priest]

For a moment Keira studied [member="Delam Mairev"], eventually shrugging a shoulder and soon enough shifting her focus again to [member="Sal Katarn"]. "I can't say I know him, no. Friend of yours, I assume?" Of course, by 'friend' she meant the exact opposite, as she could only assume the one he had asked after was being hunted in some manner or another. This was as good a place as any to get that sort of business done and over with, and she had witnessed enough encounters of that nature that she was able to regard them as nothing more than business as usual. "You're gonna want better tricks than a concealed pistol, unless near-death experiences are your idea of fun." Not that she could say much, given that held true for her in the past.

It seemed he wasn't the only one with the bright idea to get any dirty work out of the way, as the authoritative voice of none other than her older sister, one [member="Dani Ticon"], reached her over the din of the other patrons. Groaning quietly in protest that she couldn't get at least one night without something interrupting her self-created peace, she glanced over to the older woman for just a few seconds, long enough to determine by her armored and armed figure that she was here on a job, not for pleasure. Until the moment [member="Varro Shatterstar"] she was convinced she would be able to make it without some kind of family reunion, but she knew the second those words left his mouth something was bound to happen. No Ticon took well to being told what to do.

"Excuse me a second." Where most would have crossed the room to converse quietly with their sibling she only stood and turned towards her, raising her voice enough to be heard, "Dani!" When the other Ticon looked across she would only wave for her to join the two of them at the table, whatever familial bond that stretched between them hopefully trumping whatever bounty she currently cared enough to collect, which seemed to be that of [member="Ghorua the Shark"], the Herglic that had lumbered past mere moments earlier. This was building up to quite the conflagration, if someone ignited the right spark to set it all off.

[member="Eryn"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

"Uh."

Not a lot could make Sal nervous. Shotguns though, shotguns made his fingers itch. Especially double barreled, sawed off hand cannons. The spread from those things at range would kark multiple somebodies at the club up. Probably the majority of whom would be bystanders. He hesitated to use words like 'innocent' in a strip club, but still, not a good way to go.

Katarn grimaced, arms crossed again, fingers near the slug thrower. The large .48 Enforcer pistol was less 'concealed' than it was politely covered by his vest. No need to flash it everywhere, but then again he didn't expect anyone to not see it. A thinly veiled threat, more or less. Unlike the shotgun.

"Better hope she's packing slugs instead of pellets," he commented idly.

The blubber of that seven hundred plus pound Herglic would be thick enough to stop the pellets before they did any real damage. Solid slugs would do the trick, but what she really wanted was something armor piercing. A good old blaster would put some serious damage on the cetacean, blowing apart blubber in a spray of superheated steam. Or a slug thrower pistol capable of disabling light vehicles. Incidentally, exactly like the one in his shoulder holster.

So much for things not being interesting.

[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Dani Ticon"] | [member="Varro Shatterstar"] | [member="Eryn"] | [member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

((well, now that this just got serious))
LOCATION: CORELLIA, BLUE MOON STRIP CLUB
EQUIPMENT (in bio): LARGE VIBROKNIFE, BANDOLIER w/ ASSORTED GRENADES, 1 DC-15 (modified)
CURRENT MOOD: APPRECIATED

Ghorua smiled deeply as the room clapped for him. People don't usually acknowledge the entertainment at clubs like this. It was comforting to be congratulated for something that wasn't physical. Herglics aren't usually seen as anything more than blubber with shipping crates. Ghorua enjoyed breaking that mold however he could.

Then he looked down, way down, at [member="Dani Ticon"] and her shotgun. Huh, another one, thought Ghorua, smiling down at the human. Saying nothing, the massive creature stepped down, but not to her. Instead, he stepped down to a nearby sofa, and planted his physique into the fluffy seating arrangements non-threateningly. With a happy wave of the hand, Ghorua gestured to a nearby waitress. "Could I get a water?" The woman, quickly glancing at the aggressive Hunter, went to go get the water.

With a calm gesture, Ghorua nodded to the Hunter. "I assume this is about the bounty on my head. No hard feelings, I would've taken it too." Ghorua spied a nearby footrest, and put his feet on it. "But you must understand that you chose a pretty bad place to ambush me."

"You know as well as I do that I'm wanted alive. And I'm pretty sure your slugthrower there doesn't have a 'stun setting'." Ghorua raised his eye at her. "And if you were to stun me, I doubt you could carry my weight out of this establishment." Ghorua's eyes traced her form, looking for other weapons. She seemed to have quite a few. "And if you somehow could carry my weight, the security here is tighter than your average cantina. They have plenty of experience dealing with troublemakers." The Herglic pointed to a quad of black-shirted, musclebound men guarding the staff door. More were peppered around the place. "And, when you realize that the situation is pointless, I'll escape out of that staff door, and get to my speeder, and get out. Any questions? Would you like a drink?" Ghorua thanked the server, and waited for her reply, his muscles tightening if she decided to try her luck.

- [member="Sal Katarn"] - [member="Keira Ticon"] - [member="Varro Shatterstar"] -[member="Eryn"] -