Whose Post is it, Anyway? [The Family, Open to Join]

[Valgærd]

The Laughing Dragon; Main Floor​

Conflict and battle, that seems to be all I am able to bring to my Family these days. We needed something fun, something to take out minds off things, something to just unwind and maybe meet new people. So I'd organised this night at the Laughing Dragon on Dohmus Prime's orbital station. Open bar with free drinks for Family Members, and happy hour rates for everyone else. Tonight, instead of the live band, I had music playing softly over the speakers, but the stage was instead set up with a desk.

The house lights were on, the stage and tables both cast in the same subtle, warm golden glow. The restaurant was open, waitstaff ready.

Tonight was about fun.

I wasn't up on the stage, instead, I had up there a witch sitting behind that mahogany desk. She was far more charismatic than I, and appeared to be enjoying the attention. Sitting at one of the tables at the back, I watched as she prepared for the evening to begin.

An improvisation night, who would have thought?

​

 

[Valgærd]

An improvisation night, who would have thought?

The Donna had come as something of a surprise. You'd think that after the experience I'd last had with a crime lord, I would have been hesitant to hitch my wagon with hers. However, it ended up being quite to the contrary. She offered power, which of course piqued my interest, but also protection from my enemies. All I had to do was jump when she said jump.

So jump I did.

I'll admit, this was hardly what I had expected to be doing when I signed up. Not that I was complaining, this had sounded like fun. I'm quite sure I'll be asked to prove myself in the near future. I ought to enjoy this blissful time while I can. The desk before me was lovely, rich mahogany wood. Sitting atop it were several cards, most written on, but a few blank with a pen resting beside them. I'd peeked at a few, and chuckled. Behind me was a screen large enough to be read from the back of the restaurant, which I understood would display whatever I read out from the card.

A few people had approached already, enjoying some fine food or fine drinks. While I had noticed my employer didn't drink, she appeared to have quite the collection. The music volume dropped a little as attention drifted towards me. With a grin, I drew in a breath,

"Welcome to the first Laughing Dragon Improvisation night!" I began, "I'm looking forward to this, let's get right into it."

I tilted the first card towards me, taking a moment to stifle a chuckle,

"What can you say to Sith, but not to Jedi?"

Oh this was going to be fun.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

"Million casinos in the galaxy an' we are scopin' out one that runs in the underground." ​

​

As The Wretched Dagger came in for a landing Marcellus gave a brief roll of his eyes. As the young Twi'lek who piloted his ship had pointed out there were plenty of casinos that he and his gang could set their eyes on. Of course just because they could take the easier option doesn't mean they would. Sora had been his pilot for months and while she was an ideal pilot she would had yet to understand some of the more eccentric idealisms that Marcellus Decker held on to. His brown eyes locked on her in a silencing glare, one that he often passed on to members of his gang when they were agitating him or asking stupid questions, usually both.

"I gotta tell you to shut up, or you gonna take initiative?" He said, his voice remained low but it was easy to read the agitation in his voice.

"Ok, ok. My bad, just tryin' to help." Sora replied, pulling off the helmet she had been wearing and starting to power down their ship. Leaning back in his seat Marcellus looked to the casino that was before him. The exterior was impressive and drawing, making him believe that it could entertain quite a crowd. As tonight seemed to be a particularly popular event night there was a steady flow of people moving into the structure. All manner of aliens and near-humans walked in with the intent to enjoy a good night. Taking notice of the security measures he could identify, Marcellus shook his hand at Sora. "Leave it."

The young woman had been fastening a blaster holster to her ankle but was surprised and nearly stunned to silence when it seemed they would be going inside unarmed. "You feelin' alright boss?" She asked, hesitantly. Her question was met with another silencing glare. This one must have worked because rather than respond, she held her hands up defensively.

"They checkin' folks at the main entrance. Won't do us any good to have the evening cut short. We're just here to scope the place out anyways, come on." Turning out of the cockpit, his hands fell to his waist. He pulled off his own blaster pistol, laying it down on a nearby shelf. Taking a small cigarra from a pack in his pocket he lit the tip while the rear ramp was lowered down to the ground. Running a hand through the locks that hung over the side of his temple, Marcellus set his eyes on the casino before him and gave an all too confident smirk. "C'mon, let's go check them out."

The two made it through the main entrance without incident. Though Marcellus and Sora were checked for weapons upon entering they were ushered in with no further attention brought to them. Taking a deep drag from the cigarra in his lips he was eager to see what this casino had in store for them.

[member="Ahtemis"]

 

[Corran Conner]

Corran had come along to the laughing dragon hearing word of an improve night. He had always wanted to do one of those. He smiled thinking of all the things he could say about it. In fact the donna saw fit enough to make him one of the main presenters as well. He nodded to [member="Ahtemis"] as she watched on. He had made a promise to her about what she was and he planned to keep it. He then nodded as [member="Umai"] said the first line. "What you would say to a sith but not a jedi." Oh he had tons for this.

"Nice new meat suit you got there. Lose your old one recently did you."
"Thanks for not kicking me and the orphans out of an airlock."
"You only burned down one town and here I was with popcorn ready to watch the end of a world."
"Wait is that an orphanage?"
"Your lightsaber is looking particularly crimson today."
"What new creature did you spawn today and what issues should I look for."
"Wait your the champions of peace?"
"Wait you didn't betray a ton of people and put them in a soul stone. Coulda fooled me."
"You don't want to kill the force?"
"Wait your recruiting not killing prisoners now? How much did you lose by."

He chuckled at the last one. Then he could have kept going but he wanted to give others a chance to say something first. All in all he was enjoying himself. He couldn't wait for the next one.

[member="Ahtemis"], [member="Marcellus Decker"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

The club seemed liked an undisturbed graveyard, very few movements and little sounds; minus the occasional bark of laughter or screech of joy. Sitting alone, shrouded in darkness with just a taste of light hovering close by, I stared at the swirling liquid in my drink, cause and effect by my twirling finger deep inside, practicing one of the lost arts of the Dathomir Witches, scrying. It was lost, cause nobody since the times of the Great Mothers employed it. Feeling the tinges of failure washing over me, I withdrew my soaked finger, casting aside the droplets on the floor next to me, and pushed the frosty mug away. Per my species, or one half of what I was, drink and food in the traditional sense held no appeal for me.​

​

Shifting my eyes first to the right then to the left, I took in my surroundings again; hopefully utilizing this tactic would usurp the recent hubris of the club changing it most heinously. The music was, at least, hopeful. Then I saw the lonely open mic, supported by a lonely stand, resting peacefully on the stage. With a shrug of my shoulders, I pushed separation from myself and the table, gliding caustically toward the stage; envisioning the date with a tune I repeatedly played over and over through my mind.​

​

Mic in left hand, stand in my right, I began to sing a gentle lullaby of a song; the melody and lyrics spewing forth like some dark, ancient spell; spellbinding my audience, turning the mood somber with an unseen mist of captivation. When the last word of the song was spun, I took myself from the stage, returning to my seat; once again, hopefully not in vain, attempting to learn the future from the liquid swirled fingering.​

 

[Crocell]

Location: The Laughing Dragon Casino
~ Hangin' with The Family ~ On Stage ~
[member="Via Dolorosa"] [member="Corran Conner"][member="Umai"]

Ivory Stroud, dressed most-excellently in a lacy black dress & matching shawl, stepped down onto the stage. Her red leather boots, worn from a lifetime of use, seemed built for her frame and the silver toe-caps caught some of the stage light; even dull, they caught the eye, giving the woman her own unique brand of fashion. Her full head of black hair, cut tantalizingly in a unique and inventive mohawk, showed off a number of tattoos on one side of her skull which appeared to be hair but were (in-fact) well-crafted tattoos in a curling tribal design. She wore a number of piercings and jewelry, including something quite striking and elegant: a small self-luminescent purple stone which hung on a silver chain. It matched her violet eyes perfectly.

She spoke animatedly, using her hands to complete the illusion of presence in her little world of comedy.

"Now, I know what you're thinking: I failed you for the last time; but, I haven't told you how it ends!"

"Woah. Woah. WOAH. You mean, you're the Emperor?"

"Okay, the choking thing? ...Yeah... Not into it."

With a wink, Ivory mouthed the words while pointing at herself, "totally into it."

"So, at what point did you realize you liked the look of eyeliner?"

"Oh poodoo, don't tell me. You left your ID in your other pair of bloodstained robes."

 

[Vora Kaar]

The showing of power from the Family was quite different. Rumors of their exploits had come to surface. While they had dirt yet to be unearthed, one could find themselves in a profitable position within this group of Criminals. Adjusting the jacket to fit the shoulders more squarely, a tap of the helmet to make sure it lit itself up, was all that was needed when walking past the guards.

It was a silent approach. One that would allow one such to traverse the loud music and noises.

[Music notes dance]
[Woman dancing]

Head bobbing and sliding to the beat of the music as it played. Faceplate turning and shifting the gaze to others. A group of individuals that were... different.

A couple steps were taken to close the distance. Faceplate buzzing with life as the steps brought the target ever so closer.

Looking in between the group. A witch. Detail of her ring being not normal. A young man who was well beyond the terms of Nerd, and Geek all in one. A rather secondary scary, and more powerful witch, as well as the Punk chick that had an attitude to match. However, the gaze of the faceplate was turned only to the woman who kept herself in the shadows. The woman who as it so happened, Had something that belonged to someone else.

[Mean gaze]
[Cross hairs]
[Kill You, Kill you, Kill you]
[Various currency symbols]
[Bounty Crossed out]
[Blaster Cross out]
[Question Mark?]

Cryptic in the message, however, one could guess at the idea for this. Yet, the feelings were different. Hands splayed up and out in the open. Question of this Ahtemis or AKA, The Donna. Was she this real person, or just a fake, a fraud?

[member="Ivory Stroud"], [member="Via Dolorosa"], [member="Corran Conner"], [member="Marcellus Decker"], [member="Umai"], [member="Ahtemis"],​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Wearing​

...​

"Zank you, darling." With a flirtatious wink, Malcoma reached over the bar for the cocktail that the bartender had just brought to her. Her nude stiletto nails made satisfying clinks on the flared-out glass flute as she withdrew the drink and turned on her stool to watch the show. As she did, she plucked the thin pear slice off of the glass lip and took a small bite.

She took another, chewing slowly, thoughtfully after [member="Umai"] asked the first question of the night.

It took only a few moments for the madam to think of a quip. To try to keep from laughing aloud at herself, she took the first sip of her drink. It gave her time to listen to [member="Ivory Stroud"], as well. Why, she was pretty good. Somehow, Malcoma knew that moment that she wouldn't mind working for the woman.

When she sensed an opening in the audience's excitable murmuring, she decided to raise her glass and her voice, though not before crossing her legs the other way:

"On a scale of von tew ten, 'ow bad are your Master issues?!"