boommeister
Approximate Timeframe: The Annihilation of Tython
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren
Andrik 'Rik' Perris had some time; barely enough to justify darkening the doorstep of the family home back on Corellia for a proper visit and still only make it back in time by the skin of his teeth for commencement of the next op, but enough to take a solid handful of days and do anything but think about what came next. On the two-year-old advice of… well, the name didn’t matter, he’d made his way to Hapes, though the simple fact that it was in the area, due to the outfit he was attached to being secluded in the Transitory Mists, made plenty of reason to go and get the fuck away from his team.
Interpersonal tolerance was at an all-time low ever since Zoyar, their
“Fuck them,” he groused beneath his breath, stopping briefly to check his reflection on the side of a gleaming building before walking the few remaining meters to the club. It wasn’t often he got to dress like this, in a suit, or even bothered, but he was sick of the average cantina or hole in the wall, and wanted to see what the higher end clubs were like here, compared to his last experiences of them, on Coruscant. And on Naboo, before the cataclysm.
After an ident check - the stressors and ravages of his way of life hadn’t started to write lines into his face, unlike the story told by the accumulated healed breaks and other scars writ throughout much of the rest of his body for those who might know how to read such a book - the door staff gave way to allow him entry. The air was touched with the pulse of driving bass and provocative vocals when he stepped into the building, an atmosphere that thickened as he ascended the stairs to the main part of the club, and entered through another set of doors at the top into a vast room where lights of various colours moved and changed to the track administered by a woman on the decks who was just as suffused with astounding beauty as the vast majority of the Consortium's citizens... and any one of them could just as well be a honeyed trap.
That had been the caution that came with the advice.
Turning away from the dias, Rik made his way over to the main bar and an empty stool. It was just early enough that the place wasn't crammed to the gills with night revellers... as far as what passed for night in this realm. He had to wonder how the expat communities put up with the constant daylight, and he already knew he wouldn't want to live here on that basis alone, but for a visit? It was something else. It wasn't just the general beauty, but a society dominated by women? You had to experience it first-hand and form your own opinions. When one of the bartenders walked up and singled him out with a look, and a 'What will you have?', Rik gave an answer, promptly.
"Ale, whatever's real good and local. Not looking to get knocked on my ass too early," Or at all. Well, that might depend on how the night went. "Thanks."
He'd drunk absolute swill a time or two, or... well he'd lost count - some people should keep their day jobs, but sometimes you just needed whatever was close at hand and would get you blitzed, damn the consequences - and there was no reason to keep that up, here.
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