Wednesday's a Drinking Day | Night On the Town

[Gorba the Hutt]

​

Boisterous laughter boiled from the Whuffling Whampa, a hot kettle of eclectic beings from all across the galaxy, bubbling with rising malfeasance. The center of the raucous mirth emanated from a tight knot of enormous beings clustered around the bar. Two groups, made distinctive by the patches they wore. A dark fin on those of aquatic origins, while a three-clawed slash made up the patches of the others.

Saeva and Darkwater had come to Coruscant. After a successful operation on both ends, a night on the town was the only way to let off any leftover steam. The other denizens of the Whuffling Wampa stayed well clear of them. Best not to catch an errant flipper or hamfisted gesture.

At the center of the mass sat two beings, forearms rippling with corded muscle as their elbows rested on the counter. Each struggling to slam the other's hand down. Arm wrestling, that oldest and stupidest of traditions.

Toward the rear of the group, a towering Herglic watched, blubber in the two-tone shades of jet black and alabaster. Every so often a hauum of laughter would erupt from his maw like the rumblings of an underwater volcano.

"What think you, Thrukk?" Lord Orcus questioned of his Houk companion, who stood even larger than he, "I have fifty on the Karkorodon, Jaask."

[member="Thrukk Gulpdar"]

 

[Azula Tindara]

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

"Seriously, do not go in there!"

The bothan girl looked up at the Zelton in a miniskirt who had deliberately stepped into her path. It took her a moment to focus her eyes. Her friend replied first: "eh?"

"I don't know what is going on, but all the animals have been let loose. I mean that big ogre thing, what did he call you Charlotte?"

"I am not repeating it!" said a second Zelton.

She looked to her friend and shrugged. "Erm..."

"Come on, we know somewhere classy!" called the second pinked skinned party goer. Trust a Zelton to know the way to the next party.


_________



"Ah mah boy duert can tak' him!" Thrukk barked in reply. The Gran's arms were trembling, but if you couldn't support an old work colleague... "Come 'en Duert!"

The Gran's strength faded, his hand slamming to the table. In a wave, each of his eyes stalks looked down at his defeated arm. "Then again mebbe not!" Thrukk laughed. "Next time Duert!" he called as he handed over his credits without complaint.

"Reit 'en Ah make thes yer roon!" Thrukk said. It wasn't the Orcus' round. Thrukk shot him a cheeky grin. It was probably one of the most disconcerting sights in the known Galaxy.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Orcus slapped his belly with a wide flipper. Great expanses of blubber-bound muscle rolled with silent mirth. A manic grin slipped across his features, all teeth, dauntless of the Houk's perturbing chutzpah. Black eyes rolled toward the Gran. A lamb thrown to the shark, paltry meal, yet stronger than he looked to give credit where due.

The Sith Lord rolled his shoulders, one hairless brows rising. No, it was not his round, but those who kept the mercenaries sated with drink earned gratitude. Gratitude among killers came rare enough. Cutting their paychecks was one think, but an employer who bought his soldiers drinks? Ah, now there was a man worth fighting for.

Getting to the bar was quite easy. Those standing in between Orcus and his destination either moved, or were moved themselves, shunted aside by sheer girth if nothing else. A Barabel thought himself up to the task of withstanding the Herglic as he descended in the bar. An unfortunate thought, soon proven wrong when the Sith Lord all but waded through him.

The bar itself was no dive. Cleaner than any bar in Nar Shaddaa, at least, with slick surfaces and neon lights.

Orcus gathered up the drinks and began to walk back to the table, when the Barabel from before blundered into him. Alcohol splashed down the front of the Sith Lord, soaking through his clothes and bring him to an abrupt halt. Slowly, he turned to stare down at the Barabel's fanged smile.

"That... was unwise."

[member="Thrukk Gulpdar"]

 

[Azula Tindara]

"Wow. Yoo've got a face like a skelped else pal. Would'nae go putting it in other people's business. Push aff afair ye gie hurt," Thrukk called through a broad grin. The nearest occupants had given them a wide berth.

The Barabel looked back and forth between them, before fixing Hion with a glower. Well perhaps they weren't the most intelligent species in the galaxy. Stubborn, good hunters, but not critical thinkers. Thrukk gave a shrug and left him to his fate.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]