I like Dinner. I like you. (ZOMG IZ OPEN!!!)

[The Agriculturist]

SWIM strode silently, smoothly, softly into the cantina, quietly noting a table in the corner of the establishment where he could sit in peace. He was hungry, he was thirsty. He was deadly. And he was on Coruscant.

 

[The Agriculturist]

His meal arrived fairly quickly, which meant the cook would survive another day. Good for him. Good for SWIM.
After munching thoroughly for several minutes, and washing down the meal with a good ale, SWIM withdrew a small datapad from his coat pocket, and began to study it carefully. It was connected to an underground network, which was constantly updated with regards to the galactic situation. It came in handy when SWIM decided which job would tickle his fancy.

 

[Mr Mythos]

A man enters the establishment. His head is covered with tattoos and sports several small horns. His clothes are well worn and the wind from the outside whips his cloak around him, adding to the mystique of this newcomer. The door slides shut behind him and his cloak gives up on its rustling. Various patrons of the bar look up at the Zabrak. His face looks hard and his eyes harder, as if he has seen so much in so little time. His fists are clenched and upon his back is a mighty spear with a curved blade and a collection of beads at the base of it. The weapon is covered with knicks and scratches from many a-battle and a blaster is holstered on the man's right leg. He takes a careful few steps to the centre of the room, all attention focused on him now. He looks around, his steely gaze penetrating every person in the bar, some looking away. He opens his mouth to speak.
"Has anyone got any batteries?"

 

[Sailor Fett]

The room falls silent with all eyes on the Zabrak. A few coughs now and agians, but still. no one answers. After a while of no replies, He spots a armoured hand up in the air, half way across the room.