Ask Humanity on Agamar

[Krinn Nelthar]

Late morning in an Agamar spaceport...

When he wakes, it's with a blinding headache. Krinn had intended to leave the port already, but his newfound tendency to get so entirely drunk that flying a starfighter would probably result in a dozen or so deaths, including his own, had left the Nautolan within the hotel chambers that was attached to the sprawling station itself. His hand stung, and it only takes a few stiff twitches of his fingers to remember that he had cut it rather badly on glass. It was wrapped in a bandage, and it would heal well enough, in time. But for now, the Sith would have to endure the suffering of it.

He's practically appalled when he realizes just how late the morning was, and he's not completely sure how much of that was spent asleep, and how much of that was spend drunkenly sputtering nonsense about how much better the Empire would be if every one of it's worlds was a water world. After his drinking partner had departed the station, all bets had been off in regards to self control.

Krinn sits up on the bed, head in his clawed hands, and the minutes tick by as he groans into viridian skin. He probably looked as bad as he felt, but at the very least, he hadn't died from alcohol poisoning. Rising upon unsteady limbs, the Nautolan drapes himself within his dark, hooded robes, and insures that his lightsaber is still clipped at his belt before he departs the dimly lit chambers.

Interestingly, the port is quite a bit more crowded than it was the last time he had traveled through. In fact, it was practically buzzing with activity, and the feel of the air was different. Something had changed. And if Krinn had bothered to pay attention to anything other than his devolving state of mind, he might have been aware of the ISC's humanitarian convoy. Large eyes blink owlishly at the shifting surroundings, supplies being transported through the structure, civilians who seemed far more rugged in appearance than the few he had seen when he had first arrived. Interestingly, the number of more shady looking fellows seemed to have shrunk in number, but perhaps that could just simply be due to the time.

Krinn moves forward through the gathering variety of people, entirely unsure what to make of it all, and he thinks that, perhaps, he should check the holonet, or the news terminals, or, well, anything really. Anything that wasn't the bottom of a Spicebrew bottle. At least not yet. He does find himself bumping lightly into another, and the Nautolan doesn't really even bother to look at them as he utters a rather awkward apology.

"Sorry." Krinn manages to speak with shaky, tired breath. "Just trying to figure out what all of this is." Not that he needed to offer an explanation, but at the very least, it was an excuse.

@Sreeya

 

[Livi Cross]

Livi was getting tired of the constant ISCRA runs she had to do. While it was great for establishing her as a Ranger, it was also exhausting. She was dismayed to learn the President had pulled ISCRA out of the FWA, as that meant more time out in bumfuck outer rim worlds. Agamar was a world nobody cared about, but it had recently come under attack by Sith. She didn’t see the point of being here - not like the ISC would be able to stop the Sith from laying claim to the planet.

She felt like a zombie as she walked back from a cafeteria, carrying a tray of bland, cheap food. Livi yawned as she walked, tired from working overtime. She was also starving, and planned to crash for the night shortly after this meal. Livi barely cut across the path when someone rudely bumped into her, sending the tray flying and all her food crashing to the ground.

“Seriously, jerk?” Livi called out, agitated. She knew it was an accident, but it didn’t help her mood. The Ranger glared at the Nautolan, scowling at his beady red eyes. With a grunt, she turned away and crouched down to collect her mess off the ground.

@Nevermourn

 

[Krinn Nelthar]

He's slow to react, slow to peer through the fog of his aching head, a blistering hangover, no doubt. His hand burns beneath the bandages, and his mind churns to keep up with the lively surroundings that the Nautolan has found himself within. Blinking large eyes, he finally turns, the biting remark of the woman he had bumped into snagging at his sluggish thoughts as he realizes what he had done. A tray once filled with food had clattered loudly to the floor, spilling it's contents across dirtied ground, and prompting the venomous words of the one who had intended to eat it. The Sith draws in a slow breath, smothering the agitation that rises like bile into his throat. He doesn't snap back at her, as he might have in his past. Merely swipes a clawed hand over his eyes, fingers rubbing at pounding temples.

"Sorry." He uttered once again, because he's not sure what else to say that wouldn't end up starting an argument. He really hadn't meant to knock into her like that. "I had too much to drink last night." A simple explanation, all she would get for the moment as the Nautolan slowly lowered his aching frame to try and help with picking up her spilled food, if only to be polite, considering it was his fault that she had dropped it. His bandaged hand moves a bit slower than the other, but it would get the job done, regardless.

@Sreeya

 

[Livi Cross]

Livi’s expression softened when the Nautolan apologized. She quietly continued to pick up the food, unable to mask a grin at his words, “I wish I had that problem,” Livi muttered. She had been working nonstop and didn’t have any breaks to drink or relax. With his help, she managed to get most of the food back on her tray, though the entire thing would have to go in the trash. Livi walked over and dumped it, glancing up at the Nautolan.

“I don’t suppose I can guilt trip you into buying me lunch, can I?” She asked with a faint smile. She expected him to tell her to fuck off, quite frankly, and she was fine with that. The guy looked absolutely blazed, which made him appear all the more intimidating, “Anyway, feel free to join me for some grub. You look like shit,” Livi said quite casually as she began to make her way back to the food court.

@Nevermourn

 

[Krinn Nelthar]

He's glad that she doesn't snap at him again, at least. His pounding head wasn't very fond of their loud surroundings, particularly those that were close to his ear. The food is swept up quickly, the Ranger's muttered words drifting with amusement through his thoughts. But... most people didn't eat off the floor. The mess was cleaned up, but the food was wasted, ruined by his clumsiness. His large eyes shift back toward the woman, as the Nautolan considers her words.

"I think I owe you a tray, at least." Krinn finally responds, soft spoken and tired, but earnest nonetheless. He moves to follow her back toward the food court, clawed fingers toying at the edges of his clothing as they walk. "I'm Krinn." The Nautolan offers, if only to be polite. And... food sounded nice, even if he's certain he'll only pick at it. At the very least, even a small meal would help settle his churning stomach.

@Sreeya