ORCtoberfest - Trash Manda ​Edition

[Noatyr Moldmerr]

​''Anything's fine really, or nothing, I'm content either way. I got two interesting women next to me, I'd say there's not much more a man could want in life. Except maybe a planet under his control.''

He laughed at that, his eyes remaining glued on his plate.

​''Good thing I'm not one for that kind of thing.''

He'd have been dead a long time ago if he had tried something stupid like taking over a planet by himself. Dead several times over no less. Noatyr wasn't the smartest creature in the galaxy, but he was far from one of the dumbest. Besides, it would have been a lot of work trying to run an entire planet anyway, even if he had an army backing him.

He turned to [member="Janick Beauchamp"], his face blank of expression, and asked:

​''Am I worth any of this trouble?''​

It was a rather odd, unexpected question, but he wanted to know, since it was rare that anyone showed kindness to others like Janick had for him. Especially after he had acted like a drunken fool in front of her. Funnier yet was that Griet had tried to seduce him right back.

He knew he might not get a straight answer, but these facts left him curious, and so he had asked.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

"What made you worth the trouble is because you seemed to possess a skill that makes up for your idiocy. For what I know you could be a sniper, or excel in some other combat skill"

Meanwhile, both Griet and Janick were part of the same elite starfighter unit for two years: in a starfighter corps, elite units tended to be more closely-knit than non-elite units, even in dark-sided factions. [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"], on the other hand, was a rather different kind of spacer, or possibly even a merc, just that sometimes, redeeming an idiot often started with a thorough examination of its skillset. By now, however, she was wondering about the status of those Mando negotiations, and exactly why it seemed to be unproductive. I wouldn't assume to know, but why is it that is taking Joza, Cass so long to actually try and hammer out an accord? Or why was it taking so long for Sanya to interrogate the Mand'alor? she thought, while, once again, the NAP was the best the ORC could hope for with these Mandos. But this was a bit much for her day with Noatyr: however different it feels to both parties' respective daily grinds, perhaps it may be best to pull the plug on those. As she finished her poutine, and the tablespoon of Asobi 95% tihaar that came with it, she would have a suggestion to make.

"Maybe it was a mistake, honest perhaps, to have given you the Asobi 95% tihaar directly, before offering lum, mead or other softer drinks. What about we call it a day for today?"

 

[Noatyr Moldmerr]

​''Works for me. I'm going to assume that whatever you were here for is taking forever to get itself sorted out.''​ Maybe Noatyr was more perceptive then he looked. He could certainly tell she had been waiting for something and she was starting to get a bit anxious.

He stood up from his chair, setting his utensils down on his plate and using a small napkin to brush his mouth off for any crumbs. ​''Pleasure hanging with you Miss Janick.''

​​He set down some credits onto the table, and bowed low to the two lovely ladies. He mentally slapped himself a moment later. ''They aren't royalty you twit!''​ His mind yelled at him.

Still, it was a nice gesture.

[member="Janick Beauchamp"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Slugging another pair of drinks back, so that he was one ahead of Drao, he grinned and slid the slicer the bottle as he slid up onto a barstool and motioned to a barkeep conspiratorily. Whispering in the mans ear, they nodded. Julius emptied his pockets of the corellian style longcoat he was wearing and handed it to the keep. A busboy was grabbed, [member="Sal Katarn"] was wrapped up in said coat like a blanket and taken out by two husky busboys who could double for bouncers. And probably did.

He had simply instructed them the man might be more comfortable outside where it wasn't so hot. And that the dumpster would hide him from vagrants looking to exploit him or his belongings. And slid the man enough credits to pay for a hefty night of drinking.

Nodding to Zef, he watched the crowd as he spoke, smiling easily but senses flared and straining.

"Yeah, that's the name. Keira and I got married a while ago. Have a little one of our own as a matter of fact. The beard and silver aren't age, I just greyed prematurely. I told her it was her fault once. She near cracked my skull with a rolling pin for that one. Good to meet ya, Zef."

Here, he turned and stuck out his hand to shake the elder mans, nodding in genuine happines. A scuffle, good drinks, and new friends and near-family. Good evening for a Corellian. Not quite as nice as punching an Emperor, like [member="Tanomas Graf"], but a good evening.

[member="Tryp West"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Daro Tarsi"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Sal Katarn"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

He woke up next to a dumpster, covered in a coat that was not his. Katarn grimaced, tossed off the coat, and stood, knees a little wobbly. Recollection came back to him slowly.

The Sedaire moved quick for an old man. Too quick. Sal remembered the way his medallion felt hot against his chest. Force user, then, with some sort of speed enhancements.

Wincing slightly, Katarn reached down and adjusted the fit of his pants. He looked down at the pistol still clutched tight in his hand and sighed.

Time to get back on the Bantha.

With a saddle sore walk, Sal strode back into the cantina, pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the bar, then leveled his disruptor pistol at [member="Julius Sedaire"]'s left upper thigh and pulled the trigger.

[member="Daro Tarsi"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Tryp West"]