The Average Bar Thread Strikes Back

[Beowoof]

(In the tradition of the Average Bar Thread.)


Anteluma, Commenor

Chandelle shrugged off her backpack and stuffed it in her locker, dogtags on her necklace jingling with each sufficient motion she made in the process. Her sharp red hair strayed a little from her usually slick lines, but that was because she had just arrived after a quick dart across town. She liked to go fast, just like any speeder bike hot rodder would.

Of course, her boss would also tell her she was late. "You're late."

"Well, I wasn't even supposed to work today," she muttered, then flashed a bright yet extremely disingenuous smile. "Remember? Jippie's sick." The redhead removed her bomber jacket and shoved it in behind her backpack. Likewise with her pants, unveiling her tank top and short shorts.

"Still could've used ya an hour ago, 'Delle," the burly, balding barkeeper rasped. His breath infested the room with the putrid smell of a cigarra. "Been a bit busy with the dishboy out too."

"Sorry ya had to work, boss." Not really. He never did much around here except laugh it up with customers and complain about his wife to his employees. Nice guy, to be sure. Just incredibly annoying on an average day. Of course, this was The Average Bar. What did anyone expect? "Have a good supper."

Her boss grunted and waved, then made out the rusty back door and probably on to Sabacc Night with his average band of good ol' boys.

Alone. Chandelle had the place to herself, and she was going to make the most of it. She chuckled deviously as she walked out of the locker room and behind the bar counter. "Heeyyyy, party time." Empty place so far. "Thought ya said it was busy, buster." Leisurely, the bartender hopped up onto the counter after grabbing a bottle of liquor--light, unfortunately. But she had a job to keep. Lounging against the wall with her legs extended across the countertop, she flicked on the holofeeds and selected her favorite reality program: Little Jawa, Big Galaxy.

 

[Daniel Tresk]

Daniel strolled into the bar in the wee hours morning. He scratched the back of his neck as he pushed the old doors open. Said doors squealed in anguish, as Dan sat at the bar. He glared at the waitress, who was watching some moronic reality show. "Hey, 'scuse me! Could I get a drink ma'am?" He annoyingly asked the bartender. The bounty hunter quickly glanced over the walls which were lined with amber liquids. Every single alcoholic drink imaginable was stocked here, from booze to tequila. However, he started getting irritated, and began rapidly drumming his fingers against the wooden counter.

"What're you even watchin'?" Daniel asked the bartender.

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"]

 

[Beowoof]

She fumbled wildly with the remote as she tried to quickly change the channel to something more bar-suitable. Of course someone would show up right when the show's drama was highest. Utinsowa the jawa was going bonkers with an obviously set-up meeting between him and a Mon Calamari pawn broker, and that was when this customer just barges in on her!

She slipped off the countertop and flopped to the floor behind the bar with comical grace, just after she had managed to change the holofeed to a sports station. The Average Bar was in Anteluma, after all--quite possibly the biggest sports town in the galaxy. They had representation for just about every major league here.

After a quiet moment of recovering her nearly-spilled bottle of alcohol and pride, Chandelle reappeared at the counter, flipping her turned necklace back to the front and tucking the dogtags between the 'girls'. "Yeah. Hello," she greeted, trying to sound as sweet as possible and distract from the previous incident. "Just watchin'... nothing. Nothing, really."

Quick! Change the subject! "What will be your poison today, Mister?"

[member="Daniel Tresk"]

 

[Daniel Tresk]

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"]

Daniel sniggered as she slid behind the counter with the skill of a Hutt with brain damage. "Just watchin' nothin' eh? Didn't seem like it!" Dan chortled as he leaned over the counter. He continued his hysterics for another minute, until he finally calmed down and was coherent enough to actually order a beverage. "Alright, I'll take one fine shot of whiskey if ya' don't mind." The bounty hunter requested, as he placed a couple of gleaming credits on the old wood.

He looked at his surroundings, and didn't see another soul in the bar besides the bartender. "So...Do you get a lot of business 'round here?"

 

[Beowoof]

Her face turned nearly as red as her hair, and she brushed back a few strands of that hair with noticeable embarrassment. Good thing they were talking about drinks now. "What kind of whiskey ya looking for? Corellian's really expensive these days, though I can hook you up with a good rockhopper that'll make your head twirl." Why not? He was the only customer at the counter right now. She could disperse a little treat here-or-there.

Chandelle faced the racks of liquor and fetched bottles of Taanab gin, Corellian whiskey, and Cap'n Whiskers' Whiskey. Setting the vessels on the bar, she retrieved a glass from the overhead cabinet and began to pour in a little from each of the bottles in succession. "Well, we get a lot busier than this. But we're not exactly the premier bar around her, either. So it comes and goes. When the big game comes on, though, that's when we get packed." She swirled the amber liquid about inside the glass to mix it all together nicely, then scooted the cup in front of her guest. "If ya don't like it, it's on me. I'll get you something else then."

Folding her arms across her chest, the redhead stepped back and watched to see how her concoction fared with her customer.

[member="Daniel Tresk"]

 

[Daniel Tresk]

Daniel nodded his head when she offered a drink to make him wasted. While he was trying not to hit the sauce, one drink wouldn't be that bad...Right? His eyes widened when he saw the wide variety of alcohol poured into the single glass. Every single cell in his brain told him not to down the deadly concoction, but he couldn't resist what the small glass held inside. He quickly drank the cocktail of death and destruction, causing him to cough and wheeze as it left a scalded and burnt trail down his throat.

Finally, as the drink settled in his stomach, a content expression appeared on his face. Dan grinned from ear-to-ear, as he began to speak. "Ahhh...I didn't like it."

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"]

 

[Cora Passek]

The Average Bar, Cora couldn't think of a better place for her to be. It'd been awhile since she'd had a good drink and decent company. Maybe tonight would be a good night, who knew? Though usually trouble followed the young blonde in spades these days. Slowly she sauntered over to the counter, and flashed a smile to the redheaded barkeep. Seemed the girl was tending to another customer, so for now she could wait. After all a good drink was always worth waiting for. With a sigh, that spoke volumes of the weight on her shoulders, Cora took a seat on the stool. With a single finger, she drug a coaster over to her, and flipped it over the back of her hand, mostly killing time.

[member="Daniel Tresk"] | [member="Chandelle Immelmann"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Cora Passek"]


The Average Bar. Well, Star Wars convention demanded that there be a bar thread every few weeks. In this case we are not in the openly seedy bar of Mos Eisley or Nar Shaddaa, but in an 'average' one. Presumably this meant less gangsters and no stripperific Twi'lek dancing girls, although this writer cannot be sure.


Anyhow, this writer has decided that Naamah should show up. Now a good deal less psychotic. Probably still not that sane. Also significantly powered down in the Force because hell had been cruel to her. Anyhow, the door opened and she sauntered over into the bar, though she remained wary, ever alert for trouble. Old instincts died hard...and there were plenty of reasons for some people to want her dead. That was from the old days before her writer ditched her, repurposed her account and her knight rank.


Her Force senses were a far cry of what they once had been, as was her power in general, but she still had good instincts - and a concealed lightsabre. Maybe here she could have some peace and quiet. As she walked over to a stool her eyes fell upon...a very familiar blonde.

 

[Beowoof]

Chandelle placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the man, then allowed a wry smile to creep up her face. She knew this game. "Right. Well, I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it..." The bartender scooped up his credits and winked at the bearded man, then brought out another glass and filled it with straight Cap'n Whiskers. "Well, here's your whiskey, Mister Whiskers."

She was in the process of putting back the assorted bottles she had procured for the 'rockhopper' when she noticed that a couple other souls had arrived at this little watering hole. "Hey." Chandelle moved on over to the rather dexterous-looking blonde and the brunette coming about beside her. "What's on our wishlist today? Anything hard? Or do you actually want to watch the game?" She grinned and glanced at the holoscreen behind her to see what 'the game' was today. The redhead loved sports herself, but it was so difficult to keep track of when and who would be playing when she had things like university and this job to occupy her mind.

These girls looked new to this place, so maybe she should give them a little introduction. "We've got seven beers from local breweries on tap."

[member="Daniel Tresk"], [member="Cora Passek"], [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Her eyes drifted to the screen, checking out the current match, the Decvila Rodians versus the Green Gods of Gahala. It'd been awhile since she'd actually sat down and watched a match. Hardly had the time between business and pleasure these days. So many things took priority over such a simple joy.

She glanced back to the barkeep and smiled, "Nah, no beers for me. I would like a Scotch, neat though." Cora always did love her Scotch. "Been some time since I've actually been able to sit down and watch a game. Will be nice to just sit back, relax ... have a few drinks and enjoy it for once." The girl said with a grin. "What about you?" The cuddly terror asked of the redhead barkeep, "You into sports?" Her attention was soon drawn to the brunette who had come to sit near her at the bar. This was not a woman she recognized, but then again Commenor was not a planet that Cora actually frequented much. Just not her usual place for trouble.

"And uh, whatever the brunette there wants ... Put it on my tab." Cora felt like being nice for a change, paying for someone else's drink. "And that lad over there," Spoken with a gesture to Daniel. "I'll pay for his next drink as well. Today, is a good day. And I'd like to share my good fortune." The blonde said with the brightest of grins. For life was finally looking up for her.

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"] | [member="Daniel Tresk"]

 

[Daniel Tresk]

Daniel scowled when he heard the bartender snarky comment. He opened his mouth to speak, when he realized that she knew that he tried to avoid paying for the drink. "...Right." Daniel took a hearty swig of his whiskey, and thankfully this time it didn't cause his mouth to feel like he swallowed fire. "Nice drink. Whaddya say this was called?" He inquired. However, his question was interrupted as two new patrons strolled right into the bar. As the bartender dealt with the fellow drunks and alcoholics, he began wondering on what actual sport they played here regularly.

Dan craned and twisted his neck to try to get a look at the holofeed. A rather intense game of gravball was playing, but Daniel didn't give a Hutts ass on what happened in the game. Sports was never in his interests. However, if anybody wanted to gamble on the game...Well then he was interested.

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"] [member="Cora Passek"] [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Cora Passek"], [member="Chandelle Immelmann"], [member="Daniel Tresk"]


There were a few benefits to being a Clawdite - and a former Inquisitor. Shifting your appearance was one and Naamah was rather good at that. New face, different hair, her voice sounded different as well. No hint of Atrisian accent left in her Basic. If one were to trace, one would probably think Nar Shaddaa. She had decided to keep looking human for now because it was the most practical.



She remembered Cora quite well. Forgetting was something Naamah was incapable of. Sometimes it kept her up at night. At least the bar was not very crowded at this juncture. This was good because she did not deal well with crowds. It brought back memories of hell. How ironic that not so long ago Chaos had seemed like a fun playground for her.


Eyes travelled over to the redhead barkeep once Cora had made her order. "Whiskey for me. Strongest you got," she said. Tone and posture was casual, though her eyes remained alert. She gave the blonde an appreciative smile. Perhaps the cuddly terror would see through it, perhaps not. With Naamah's power being a sliver of what it had once been, they were evenly matched. "Thanks, darlin'. You're a real giver. Name's Drusilla. What's yours?" She took note of the chipper mood Cora was in. Naamah was very much out of the loop of how much the blonde's life had changes since Atrisia. Drop it, girl. None of your business. Stick to the stay out of trouble and drink part of the plan.

 

[Beowoof]

"Well, then!" Chandelle exclaimed, rattling through the scotch bottles and looking about at her three patrons. "Looks like we're all going hard today, eh? I'm cool with that." She subtly flexed one of her biceps and winked. She was not the heftiest girl around town, but the redhead had dragged her share of toasted customers to The Average Bar's 'lights-out corner' before.

Twisting off lids and popping off a cork, Chandelle began dispensing the varying shades of alcohol into a pair of glasses for the two women, still keeping her mind on the conversation. "Yeah, I do sports a lot. Used to play some smashball and limmie when I had the time. Wish I was on the team again... but here I am." She clicked her tongue and gave a lopsided smile.

After sliding the newly-poured drinks in front of their respective customers, Chandelle then turned to the lone man and bent over the bar with her elbows rested on the countertop. Close and personal. But not too close and personal. He seemed like a nice guy, but she was not exactly digging his beard. "That's Cap'n Whiskers, Mister. Ya want a refill? Nice lady there is buying."

[member="Cora Passek"], [member="Daniel Tresk"], [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Daniel Tresk]

Daniel raised his eyebrows as the bartender leaned in right next to his face. 'Close and personal.' He thought to himself. However, he noticed her strained expression as she looked down at this beard. Dan took on a jokingly offended expression, as he opened his mouth to speak. "Gasp! Do you not like my beard?" He asked in a ridiculous, over-the-top voice. The bounty hunter held his hand close to his heart, before he leaned back into his relaxed position. However, he swiveled around on his stool to face the lady who was paying to let the taps flow, to get a good look at her. "You're payin'? What's tha' occasion?" Daniel asked in his usual gruff voice.

He absentmindedly nodded to the bartender to signify he wanted a refill, as he waited for his fellow patrons response.

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"] [member="Cora Passek"] [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Lok Jorunn]

He strode into the pub seemingly exhausted, dragging an arm across his cheek in vain attempt to wipe away a small splotch of axial grease. The effort only succeeded in smearing the fluid across it even more but the man didn't notice and immediately became taken away by stuffing work gloves into the pockets of his stained beige overalls.

"Gimme somethin' with brandy in it, will ya?" Lok called over to the barkeep as he heaved a tired sigh, collapsing onto one of the several empty stools at the bar. "Been a long day and I'd rather not remember work or anything else related to it," he grinned and rolled his shoulders, "though my muscles might remember every second of it."

He gave a cursory look about the bar, noting the viewscreens blaring sports statistics and slow-mo replays, along with the small assortment of other patrons. It even seemed a bit lively despite only having a handful of people. Sounded nice, just what he needed to end the day.

[member="Daniel Tresk"], [member="Chandelle Immelmann"], [member="Naamah Aesham"], [member="Cora Passek"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Cora just smile brightly at the barkeep, "You know it." She said with a playful wink. It was a good day, and nothing in the world was going to spoil that. Absolutely nothing. Her eyes did briefly drift to Lok as he passed by and joined them at the bar, but for now she said nothing to him.

"Thank ya darling." The blonde said as she picked up her glass, swirling the amber liquid around a few times, out of habit more than anything else as she looked down into the glass. Finally she took a sip, before looking to the brunette. "Name's Cora." She said with a nod, and then glanced over to Daniel. "I, am celebrating freedom. A good eight years and I am finally free. Life just couldn't be better." Clearly so as her grin spread from ear to ear as she spoke. "And that, is somethin' worth celebrating."

Granted freedom wasn't from slavery or anything of that sort. No, she'd just had an evil sith lord's spirit trapped in her mind for the last eight years and finally it had been removed. Cora was in fact free, from a whole different kind of slavery. One that few people could understand. So, it was best to just stick with the simple explanation and let others assume what she was talking about exactly.

[member="Lok Jorunn"] | [member="Daniel Tresk"] | [member="Chandelle Immelmann"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Cora Passek"], @Lok Joruun, [member="Daniel Tresk"], [member="Chandelle Immelmann"]


More people entered, which put Naamah on edge, but her attention was focused on Cora. Crowds made her uncomfortable. But then she got her drink and this helped her calm down a bit as she took a good swig from it. Cora's words aroused her curiosity though.


"I am celebrating freedom. A good eight years and I am finally free." It could not refer to Atrisia. Admittedly Cora had been locked in a golden cage, but it had not been slavery. What with her being the country's premiere ship designer - and in any case it had collapsed a long time ago and she had not been beholden to it for eight years. What could it mean then? Something in connection with the Sith? That seemed more likely, but Naamah would be in the dark about the fact that the blonde had been possessed by a spirit.


The Clawdite did not like unknowns. A further mystery was brought forth when she stretched out with her very weakened senses...and felt a sliver of the Force inside Cora. It was still weak and had not been harnessed, but it was there. Thing was, the Cora she knew had not been Force-sensitive. She took another sip from her glass, banishing these thoughts from her mind. It was not her business. "Congrats, sweetie. Glad you're free now...from whatever was oppressing you. I am down for celebrating with you" she said sweetly, clinking their glasses together. Still trying to act like you're normal, just like they? That hell made you better. Think again, Naamah, you don't belong here. No, but here I am, now shut up.

 

[Beowoof]

Apparently her eyes had settled a bit too long on the beard, and Chandelle edged a little further away from the man as he feigned offense. "It's an okay, beard," she said, quickly trying to recover. "Looks like you put a lot of... effort into growing it." Without delay, the redhead dispensed a generous fill of Cap'n Whiskers.

Things were getting a little lively at this point with another customer walking in--another alright-looking guy but with a beard as well. Some girls were into that, and some just were not. Either way, she was going to get him some brandy. "Work'll do that to ya," she commented as she scooted the man's glass in front of him. "Heck, I'll drink to that myself.

"Also to you," she continued, raising her own shot glass of brandy in the direction of the blonde before downing it quickly. A shame that she could only afford to have a few sips here or there. It would be nice to be on the other side of the counter with these friendly folks. Nothing too rowdy thus far. "It's nice to get out of a bad relationship. My old boyfriend was kind of 'whatever'."

Glancing back at the viewscreen, Chandelle noted the match was about to get underway. and she reached into her pocket to finger some credit chips. "Decvila's on a streak lately. I've got my money on the Rodians--if anyone wants to take that." She lofted five credits in the air and caught them on their descent with a jaunty clink. It was actually fun to be working alone today. Her rules were house rules as long as boss-man never found out.

[member="Daniel Tresk"], [member="Lok Jorunn"], [member="Cora Passek"], [member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Cora Passek]

Bad relationship? Oh yeah, you could call it that. The monster within her head was much like sharing an apartment with an abusive boyfriend. It just was greatly different when said being had to be forced to vacate the premises. That had been painful. However to have said this aloud would have sounded, well to put it mildly. Batcrapcrazy.

"Thanks," She said to Drusilla. "Freedom is beautiful."

She gave a nod to the redheaded barkeep, "It is. Especially when they are one hell of a controlling bastard. Trying to control every action you make, like you're a bloody puppet. Bad times." The blonde said with a slight shudder. Clearly those were not good memories. That was one horrid relationship, she never wanted to have to experience again in her life. And that shouldn't be too hard. There were only a few Sith that body surfed from mind to mind, so as long as she avoided them, all would be well. And well, she technically didn't lie about what had happened, just didn't tell the whole truth. That whole insanity sounding thing kept her from it.

Taking a sip from her glass, she glanced to the viewscreen as well. "I'll put five on the Green Gods. They're a spunky bunch, never know with them." Reaching in her pocket, she tossed the cred chip on the counter, with a grin. Tonight, was a good night.

[member="Chandelle Immelmann"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"] | [member="Lok Jorunn"] | [member="Daniel Tresk"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Cora Passek"], [member="Chandelle Immelmann"], @Lok Joruun, [member="Daniel Tresk"]


Naamah looked sympathetic when Cora spoke and patted her on the shoulder. Well, at least as much as she could. Her skills were a bit rusty. "Amen to that, sister. Reminds me of my family. Obsessive control freaks," she said, then took another swig from her bottle. "Bad times. Ancient history now. Haven't seen them in ages," she added, perhaps realising that this idle talk might go into directions she did not.


To say that the Inquisition had been a dysfunctional, twisted little family would be an understatement. Valued tools, guard dogs on a leash and with a chip implanted in them that could track their every action and paralyse them at the flip of a switch.


And the beauty of it all, once you got a taste of freedom you proved them right. Would've been better if someone had flipped your switch. I'm not having this discussion with myself. That's just cowardly. You think it's that easy: New face, new name, and it's all sugar and roses. If only it were so simple. You'd still die for her, wouldn't you? Your ice queen. Yes. And apparently I'm nuts since I'm talking to myself. Naamah did not have much credits with her, so she did not bet, but she seemed quite enthusiastic about drinking.