Open Social Raxus Drowning the Sorrows, Surfacing the Joys

[Enya Darand]

The Rusty Rifle​

Raxulon​

Raxus​

2100 Hours​

"Another Hoth Ice-breaker please," Enya called out, pushing the empty cocktail glass forward and tapping it expectantly. She'd lost count of how many she'd had by now, probably 4 or 5 or...10, maybe. It was nice though, all the thoughts just kinda disappeared in a buzzy fuzzy haze and she felt kinda giggly, and she didn't think about the bad things that gave her nightmares, so in her book, a few drinks every so often is just medicine, and hey! If she's gonna drink, might as well do it with her buddies in the Rusty Rifle. Apparently it used to be a real piece of poodoo, but being so close to the imperial barracks had it's perks, like a bunch of soldiers sinking their credits into your pockets, and renovations just bring more and more people in, so now it was soldiers and social drinkers and something else beginning with an s.

As for her, she just drank, she occasionally talked if someone talked to her, but for the most part, she just liked to sit there and stare at the fish tank, eyes absent-mindedly following the little aquatic cuties as they floated around. She liked the water, it wasn't like fire, fire was hot and painful and baaaaad and it hurt your...where is that drink...?

(OOC:Open to all Imperials and/or people with a decent reason to be on Raxus!)

@Tic

 

[L'Arra]

Imperial space wasn't the best place for a smuggler to be, L'Arra knew that for sure. She always liked returning to it after a run though. No trace of her smuggling on her or her person, and former Imperial Navy paperwork to get her through most places she wanted to be. Most of the places ended up being bars and cantinas. She'd never been to the Rusty Rifle before, but the name stood out to her, and she would happily put it's drinks to the test.

L'Arra found a place to sit at the bar next to a woman calling for a Hoth Ice-breaker. Decent drink all things considered. L'Arra's ears swiveled around, taking in all the sounds, and her black furred, trimmed tail swished behind her absent mindedly. When the bartender came to deliver the woman her drink, L'Arra raised a hand to grab his attention.

"Old Fashioned, Corellian bourbon," she said. Normally she'd have the bourbon straight or on the rocks, but she felt like living a little after her incident on Nal Hutta.

@Panda Hermit 98 @Tic

 

[Enya Darand]

"Corellian Bourbon? Mmmm, quirky," Enya slurred out, turning to look at her new drinking buddy. Of course, her eyes immediately darted toward the most obvious thing, big floofy and cute as they were.
"A quirky kitty!" She exclaimed, though almost immediately afterward she clamped her hand over her mouth, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, is that speciesist? I apologize!"

Of course, as she was saying this, her free arm was slowly moving up towards the floofy ears....

@TheDudeMike

 

[L'Arra]

L'Arra turned at the mention of her drink of choice. She was about ready to get defensive, as all Corellians should be, when she noticed the woman was on another level entirely. L'Arra held up a finger to the woman, as her drink arrived. She grabbed it and took a large swill from it, then turned back to the woman, not even stopping her from reaching for her ears.

"Not at all!" L'Arra said, now ready to handle this conversation after her swill. The heat from the bourbon ran down through her chest. She loved that feeling. "Go ahead, get it out of your system." L'Arra tilted her head downward, giving the woman free reign of her ears for a while. It would only last a few seconds.

Picking her head back up, L'Arra beamed a smile at the woman. "Name's L'Arra. Seein' how you got to cop a feel, mind tellin' me yours?" She took another large swill of her bourbon. She wanted to be on every level this woman was.

@Panda Hermit 98

 

[Kellan Solari]

Captain Kellan Solari had spent the immediate weeks following his assignment to ISB’s Blackout Fleet steeped in training at one of Raxulon’s innumerable Imperial facilities. The city itself was a tolerable enough location for so protracted a posting. Against the backdrop of his studies of spycraft and the finer points of espionage, the familiar shape of the Imperial capital’s skyline was a welcome sight. The training regime itself had been a lesson in endurance and repetition and days where he set foot outside the grounds of the compound were rare.

And so, as he sat slouched before the swooping bar of The Rusty Rifle, he was dimly aware of two points. First, that such outings were in all likelihood a rarity and as such were to be relished. To that point, he threw back the remaining third of his ferment and signaled the bartender for another. And secondly, that he was almost certainly being watched by those entrusted with his training, a suspicion which gnawed at the nape of his neck like a floater flea.

Kellan spun on his stool to face the interior of the bustling establishment. Dressed inconspicuously in the shore leave attire of an Imperial Naval officer, he pitched either elbow onto the bar behind him and scanned the brightly chromatic space for any familiar faces, insignias or uniforms. Out of his periphery, he caught sight of a youthful looking human ruffling the hair of another young woman. Then he caught sight of the ears protruding from her hair.

“Those come stock or were they a specialty job?” he yelled above the din, pointing towards the woman’s ears.

@Panda Hermit 98 @TheDudeMike