Carth's Cantina (Open)

18 years after the Battle of Yavin...
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Arkol
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Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by Arkol » Mon Oct 31, 2011 9:20 am

San Stevenson walked along the streets of Corellia in a daze. He'd been holed up in his apartment for months trying to write the "book of the century," only to be denied by every publisher he sent his book to. His dreams of being a writer smashed, San decided that he needed a drink. However, he didn't want to drink in just any bar, he needed the perfect bar. He needed some place that spoke to him; a place that would take away all of his worries.

Turning a corner, San stopped in his tracks. There, a hundred meters away, was a bright neon sign reading "Carth's Cantina." Something about the way the sign looked and the crowd of people entering it spoke volumes to San. He decided this must be the place he was looking for all along. He walked to the entrance and paid the fee. The bouncer, a bothan, opened the door for San and let him pass.

As soon as San walked through the doors, he knew he made the right decision. Right in front of him was a reception desk with a Twi'lek woman standing behind it. She gestured to San's right and said "That way leads to the main bar area. It plays louder music and is mainly for dancing." San looked down that way and could hear the music coming down the hallway from that direction. "To your left is a lounge area. The music there is more subdued and is meant for relaxation and conversation."

San thanked the woman and walked down the hallway to his left. When he entered he heard the music, which was much quieter than that coming from the other hallway, and also saw couches and tables set up throughout the room. There were people of all different races sitting throughout the lounge. Many of them were in conversation, though San could not make any of them out due to the music being just loud enough to keep people from listening in. In the center was a bar with two humans behind it. San walked up the the closer of the two, an older gentleman with grey hair and a bushy mustache, and sat down. He put a hundred credits on the bar slid it over to the bartender. "I've had a bad few months. Take care of me, would ya?"

The bartender took the credits and knelt under the bar. He pulled out some Corellian Ale and poured a glass for San. "We don't have any heavy drinks here. This side is meant for relaxation. If you want to get smashed, you should head over to the other side."

San nodded to him and took the drink. "I've been out of the loop for quite a while. Any news on what's been going on?"

The bartender shook his head and said, "Sorry, but I don't have time for conversation. Why don't you ask someone else?"

San was a little surprised and put off by the bartenders' response. He opened his mouth to say something back at the man, but decided against it. He didn't come here to argue with anyone. Instead, he took his drink and sat down at one of the stools by the bar. He faced away from the bar looking at all the faces of all the people. Maybe I can find someone to have a good conversation with. God knows I need one about now.

OOC: Ok. This is my (lazy) way to find out what the MBT is like since I've been gone. I figure there are too many threads to go through to try and find out what the galaxy is like. I know about the crazy big battle at Mon Calamari, but other than that I'm pretty much in the dark.

In my defense for finding out about the MBT this way, it also gives me some practice getting my creative juices flowing again. So, if you want to post here, please go right ahead. Thanks.
Last edited by Arkol on Tue Nov 08, 2011 9:05 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Beorht
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Re: Carth's Cantina

Post by Beorht » Mon Oct 31, 2011 10:58 am

Farnabas Engel, a beefy man in his late fifties, had overheard.

That was probably not a good thing for San.

The quarter-sloshed captain of the Yurba's Revenge shoved over and half-raised a pint of bitters in San's direction. A well-remunerated and galaxy-class information professional he might be, but all that meant right here and now was that he was in the mood to talk. Current affairs, big bad shifts in galactic whatever - he had a tendency to pontificate.

"All this crap with the Cult of Shadow and the Xen'Chi, it's been a few years since we've seen anything bad 'tween the Empire and the Republic. Here's hoping it stays that way."

His companion, an equally hulking Ishi Tib nodded morosely. But Kalaaa was always morose. The slicer burped. "Not likely, Cap'n. Been meaning to talk to you about some of the new stuff. Cyber-hostilities on the HoloNet. People trying to poke each other's buttons." He was not quiet about it.

"No kidding. Heh. How 'bout that."

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Re: Carth's Cantina

Post by xfiend1013 » Mon Oct 31, 2011 1:04 pm

Tarantella Fiennes flinched in the coolness of the fresh air of Coronet City. She'd arrived on Corellia just today, fresh from Sardis Station - well, a little less than fresh. There was a hotel nearby, which she'd sought out mainly for the fresher. She was damn near broke again and she was looking to get her first article for the Galactic Guide up on the holonet so her credit chit a little heavier.

Not that they actually got any heavier when credits got loaded on there. She wished they would. It would make her feel better.

She couldn't very well write up a review of the planet Corellia. The thousand-year old entry had been edited a few billion times. The Coronet City article was equally earmarked.

So she settled on the hotel, sent it off with the relevant information.

And just like that, fifty credits came rolling in. It almost covered the cost of the room. So she set out for the nearest Cantina.

Carefully holding her chit she wandered in. The place smelled like Sardis Station - the entire Station had smelled like a cantina. That familiar mix of spilled booze, dried sweat, and old smoke on top of too many pheromones and too much perfume swirling with cheap cologne and the occasional bit of urine on the floor.

This would do nicely. There was nothing in the Galactic Guide for it.

So she sat down, got a bad case of writers' block and bought a drink.

She couldn't afford many more and she felt like she needed a few.

She looked around for someone drunk and someone male.

"Hi there." She said, holding the Galactic Guide in front of her in folded arms, conspicuously drink-less. She'd walked up to a slightly raucous table where two hulking men were drunk and chatting with a third. They were doing the whole 'overview of the galaxy' game and she had to admit she liked it.

"Buy a girl a drink?" She asked, surprised no one had already done it.

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Re: Carth's Cantina

Post by Arkol » Tue Nov 08, 2011 8:47 am

San looked over at the two drunk men who walked up to him. He raised his glass in response and took a drink. "Yea, what is this Cult of Shadows all about anyway? And how did this Sivter guy get to be so powerful as too threaten the entire galaxy?"

At that moment, a woman walked up to them with an expectant look on her face. "Buy a girl a drink?" San then turned around to the bartender and waved him over.

Grumpily, the man walked over to San. "Go ahead and get her a drink, whatever she wants," Stevenson said. He turned back around to the woman and extended his hand. "Hi. I'm San Stevenson."

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by Beorht » Tue Nov 08, 2011 9:49 am

"An' I'm Farn and this is Kalaaa," said Engel. He waggled his eyebrows in a polite way.

"So. The Cult." The information broker rubbed his hands together and lapsed into full storytelling mode. Unlike most of his ilk, he'd actually spoken with a former Cult member, and while she hadn't been exactly forthcoming about the really interesting stuff, she'd been more than happy to give a broad picture. "About six years ago, a Defel named Sivter started recruiting in earnest - pulled in Darksiders from all sorts of traditions. Sith, Inquisitors, Detori, cultists, all kinds, right? There was a vacuum. Sith Empire was doing good but not too good, they'd just conquered the Anari Alliance and taken down the Detori Order - lots of Darksiders running around with nothing to do. So along comes Sivter and builds something new and big and very secret. Starts brainwashing them, uses weird Sith psychotropic chemicals, makes some monsters, kills some Jedi. But for the most part they kept quiet, until two years ago. Then they started making raids out of their secret base or bases, raids that made no sense. They kicked it off with an attack on the Jedi Temple at Onderon, got into the Archives, nobody's sure what they got, right? Then they hit some monastery on Chalacta, some other bits and pieces around the galaxy, and so forth. Things get a little quiet. Then all of a sudden they hit Vorzyd V with something that makes a good chunk of the population go mad and kill each other.

"Finally, about a week or two ago, Sivter slices into GNN and tells the galaxy that it needs to surrender or more bad things will happen. The planet Alsakan gets hit by a huge asteroid fleet crewed by arachnoids called Charon. Then he tells everyone that the next target will be Mon Cal, and so everyone - Republic, Empire, Sith, some Unknown Regions people - starts moving their fleets there, hoping to hold off these Charon and maybe strike back.

"That's life right now. The latest greatest threat to life as we know it. Sound about right, Kalaaa?"

The Ishi Tib burped. "Your verb tense needs work."

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by xfiend1013 » Wed Nov 09, 2011 4:49 pm

Tarantella listened, rapt at first, then she found her attention fading as she wished she had a cigarra.

She surreptitiously added a note to the datapad. "Good conversation." It read. "Cheap drinks not quite worth the price."

"Yeah a whole planet got taken out." She added. "Alsakan. All sorts of ships and stuff have been blown up too. I bet it's a great time to be running a company that makes ships."

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by Beorht » Wed Nov 09, 2011 9:54 pm

"Or planets," Kalaaa philosophized.

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by xfiend1013 » Thu Nov 17, 2011 2:48 pm

Blam.

The doors opened with that theatrical flair that was really too much for a place like Carth's.

Too much if it had been by itself, really.

So the inswept smoke of expensive cigarras, the pop-crack flash of the photographers outside, the dual-wielded arm candy and shine-snazz tuxedo were just the gold-flake butter-icing on the too-much cake. It was too rich and too shiny for anyone who wasn't wearing five-hundred credit "Gigahertz" sunglasses.

So Grant Ford was lucky, then - he was one of only three people on Corellia wearing such ostentatious eyewear, and the other two were the interstellar supermodels hanging on to his arms. They were models with swimsuit, cover, daddy, and body image issues and Grant was shocked at how cheap it was to get them to come on a date.

Who would bring such an up-class act to such a downtown bar?

Someone who didn't know any better. The five-time winner of the Coronet Skyscraper Games, the six-time winner of the "Most Extreme Holovid" award on GNN, the Urban Freerunning Champion of Corellia, the "BASE-Jump Kid," Freeclimber Extraordinare, the "Highest Man on Corellia" in two different magazines (Greego Weed Weekly and SKYDIVE!) and now, suddenly, a real-life University-Educated Economist (with a B.S.!).

Grant Ford. Twenty-six years old. With a build you could throw across an alleyway from ten stories up and legs that could do that job on their own.

Short brown hair, expensive haircut, his first that he'd paid more than 10 credits for.

Sun-kissed skin that had been kissed by plenty of sentient beings of both sexes.

A constant five o'clock shadow with an error bar of plus or minus one hour.

He'd just learned about error bars, which was amusing, since he was an economist. Now with a bachelor's degree!

His arms were long and were doing some sweet rippling motions to amuse the already bored models, since they hadn't been at all interested in the fact that he'd just gotten an honorary economics degree from Coronet University, thanks to his rather large endowments.

The models weren't interested in large endowments. They were half-starved beasts, terrified of food. It was a wretched combination that was taking more from Fords' wallet than he knew.

"Drinks on the house!" Grant Ford shouted, flashing a dimple and a smile and a chin you could use to wedge a blast door open. "And for an encore I'm gonna climb up there too!"

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by Beorht » Fri Nov 18, 2011 2:49 pm

As Ford and his retinue entered the main bar area in a halo of flashbulbs, a Zeltron woman in white slunk off the dance floor surrounded by a pheromonal cloud and a retinue of her own. She wasn't encouraging them, oh goodness no, which was perhaps the point. A pleasant buzz of endorphins and grain alcohol flushed her red neck redder, and strands of her white hair clung to her. Orange eyes glowed from a mixture of mixtures.

She examined the interstellar models the same way a Star Destroyer examines corvettes. In her recent youth, she'd had her flirtations with bulimia (after all, she'd flirted with literally everything else and would hate the eating disorders to feel left out) but currently considered such things beneath her, and the people associated with them as well.

"Drinks all around? You just made a new best friend, Mister Ford."

Who was it but Doctor Linna Beorht, Interstellar Politics Today's current cover pundit, Valorum Award-winning political economist, Zeltros People Weekly's number three "Academic We Love," face of A.B.Q. Mature Beverages (in twelve sectors!), and strong contender for Hottest Sentient Being in the Room?

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Re: Carth's Cantina (Open)

Post by xfiend1013 » Sun Dec 11, 2011 11:05 pm

Grant stopped so fast his chin became dangerous, and let each of his eyeballs crawl slowly over Linna Beorht.

He recalled something his stepfather had said about Zeltron women.

"Son, they'll mess up your mind, ruin your life, and take all your money. You'll enjoy every minute of it until it's gone, then you'll never be able to enjoy anything else."

He recalled the look of total defeat, he could hear the horrid holovids looping in front of the passed-out old man, he could smell the whiskey and failure.

Then he remembered what his real father (too busy to bother to raise him) had said about Zelton women (and men).

"Frack yes. Oh frack yes. They'll frell up your head, take all your money, and turn your life to a shavvit storm you just gotta walk away from. Worth it. Worth every last gods-damn second."

"A new best friend?" Ford said with a smile that could have sold everyone in the room Gigahertz sunglasses. It gave Linna Beorht a serious run for Hottest Sentient Being in the Room.

"Mr. Grant loves new friends." One of the models said with a lackadaisical ennui that most poets wished they could master.

Ford made the "blaster hands" gesture and therefore lost the H.S.B.it.R contest. Then he fell over backwards, throwing his glass into the air. He rolled over backwards as the models shrieked and spread, probably terrified of coming into contact with a caloric liquid.

Then, he came up with a much-practiced flourish and snagged the glass.

It had spilled everywhere, though.

He swore.

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