New Prospectives (Pre-DotR)

[Shalken]

Magnus chuckled at Nova's remark about breaking his hand in a handshake. He didn't think his new arms were actually that strong...or were they? Something else to test in the future.
The mood at the table lightened considerably as everyone relaxed. Magnus listened to the Padawan with interest. He'd never heard of the term "Padawan" before; apparently they had to grow a mini-braid to signify it. Interesting. But then, suppose there was a Jedi-in-training that was a race that didn't have hair, like a Nautolan? Did they tie their tentacle-hair-things into a braid? That would be an amusing. Magnus would pay good money to see that.
"I'm glad we're on the same page now," Magnus replied. "I should have spoken sooner, but I was too suspicious and Davian seemed to be doing most of the talking."

Magnus settled into his seat, getting more comfortable. "I was raised on Axum, a planet not too far from here. My family lived mostly in the....lower area of the city, so we didn't really see a whole lot. The only trips I ever made off-world were a couple short trips to Coruscant, and even then I only caught glimpses of Jedi. The rest I know is all probably just rumors and legends." He paused, peering out into the pouring rain, seeming to gather his thoughts. "A few months ago, my parents and I got into an....argument. We were in a hangar bay next to our only freighter. It exploded suddenly; I still don't know what caused it. The blast instantly killed both my parents. Shrapnel ripped my arms and face to shreds, and I got seriously burned all over. Had to spend all my savings plus the money from my parents' business to cover the cost of the cybernetics." Lifting his arm again, he continued, "I gotta say though....I like 'em. A lot. People seem to respect me more now." Magnus lowered his arm. "I'm still getting used to 'em though. It's weird, not being able to feel my face or arms any more. And everything's much sharper, it's like I have perfect vision and hearing."

Magnus eyed Davian's Jawa Juice, and realized he was still thirsty. "Excuse me for a moment," he said as he got up from the booth, "I'm getting another drink." With that, he approached the bar counter, sifting through the credit chips in his pocket.

 

[Vosrik]

"Now that's a sad tale if I've ever heard one," Davian said quietly as Magnus departed to get his drink. "I don't think he realizes how intimidating he really looks with all that metal. It's just those eyes, and look at how tall he is! Gotta be what, six foot nine...ten?" He shook his head in awe.
"My story's rather simple. Lost my dear mother when I was born. Grew up with just my dad. Not complaining though, he's the best father I could've asked for. I'm the CEO of PriceCorp, and my father founded the company and poured his life into it. I've lived on Coruscant all my life; after I finished university I helped Dad out while he ran the business. He's retired now, left it to me. I have big plans for the company." His eyes glistened brightly as he stared out at the pouring rain, watching the water run down the window and a lone, sopping wet figure hurry into their canteen.
Davian sipped his Jawa Juice slowly, swishing it in his mouth as he savoured its flavour. It wasn't the best he'd ever had, but it wasn't as watered-down as the stuff he drank on Corsin a week ago.
He continued, "I usually travel a lot of the trade routes around the Inner Rim. I've seen a fair share of interesting and....well, weird things too. Don't get the privilege to see Jedi often though." Davian searched the ceiling, as if his memories were laid out along the sleek roof. He counted a couple times with his fingers. "....two....yeah I've only seen them once or twice. They wouldn't be bothered to talk to a small-scale businessman like myself though. Much more important things to do, I'm sure." He spoke without any trace of sarcasm, as he was quite sure they truly did have pressing matters to be outside the Temple.

@MockaDash

 

[Halcyon]

Nova allowed Magnus to finish telling his story undisturbed, although he wanted to interrupt him more than once and let him know just how much they had in common. The last bit of it left him speechless though, and he felt a cold shiver creeping along his spine, as if a cloud suddenly blotted the sun on a warm Corellian summer afternoon. It was not empathy for the cyborg that he was feeling. It was something else entirely.

Lost in thought, he wasted the window to say anything before Valen abandoned the table.

Rigil then listened quietly to Davian, although at some point he wanted to ask just how many meters was a foot. He actually peeked down at his feet and tried to guess. But was the standard measure human feet? Wookie feet? Chevin feet? Certainly not Huttese feet; did they even had any?

The Padawan also listened attentively to Davian's life story, even though he felt a bit uncomfortable. He was not one to share, but then he would feel bad if he did not.

"Importance seems to be relative doesn't it," he finally replied, not sounding distinctively sardonic. He knew Davian did not meant anything in particular with his remark; yet, the businessman unwittingly struck a nerve. "I've spent years on Coruscant doing little more than driving senators and whatnot around the city. The only reason why you don't see many Jedi on the streets is because we spend entire weeks at a time locked in the Temple."

The Arkanian glanced over his shoulder at Magnus, wondering if the 'Tin Man' was ever coming back to the booth. Not that he missed him all that much already, but if he was going to share his life story, he might as well just do it once. Nova disliked unnecessarily repeating himself.

"Just today," the Padawan went on, "my master told me to meditate on my desires, but if I were to spend another day in that damned chamber I think I'd probably go insane."

Realizing what he just said, he grinned.

"That's just a figure os speech... I know I'm sounding crazy as it is, but it's hard for me to really explain it," he looked through the window at the falling rain, and how it slanted at various degrees according to the whims of those strong winds. "I find the Universe's constant struggle for equilibrium to be soothing, so I find peace amongst the chaos of a busy street or bar.

"I can't possibly be the only one, right?" He turned his head to face Davian, with a wistful smile painted across it. "A lot of people like to go for a walk to ease their minds, no?"

 

[Shalken]

At this point, the cantina was ridiculously crowded. Peaple really liked this place, apparently. As Magnus carefully edged his way through the throng, he accidentally bumped into a burly Rodian. "Oi! Watch where you're--" The patron cut himself short as he turned, finding himself looking up into gleaming, lifeless red eyes. "My....apologies." The alien apparently decided against picking a fight; he turned away, muttering something in his native language.

Pulling out the proper credit chip, Magnus slid into the only available chair at the counter next to some girl. "Another Jawa Juice, on the rocks." The bartender turned to him, shaking up another customer's drink. "You'll have to wait a minute, fella. Bit busy, as you can see."

Nodding, Magnus settled into the seat a bit more. His eyes drifted over to the girl sitting next to him. She was still dripping wet, must have arrived recently. If Magnus was the interested type, he'd say she was rather cute; long brown hair, nice face. Before he could admire her any longer, some loud shouts in the corner of the bar distracted him. A circle of customers had formed around two hangar workers, both with raised fists. One was a great deal taller than the other, but the short worker was both faster and apparently more sober, evading each punch thrown at him and retaliating with his own. A few seconds later, the taller one went down, and cheers erupted from the other hangar workers. Credit chips passed hands as the bouncers grabbed the tall drunk and dragged him outside into the rain.

 

[Vosrik]

"Ahh yes, senators." Davian smirked and chuckled, perhaps a bit more cynically than he meant to. "Senators are an...interesting breed. Always have that peculiar talent to say an awful lot of nothing. But such is the way of democracy."
Davian pondered at the instructions Nova had been given. He thought part of tenants of a Jedi were to turn from your desires, not meditate them. But how could he possibly comprehend the Jedi and their mysterious ways? Davian brushed a hand over his forehead. The Force. Such a weird and almost unnatural--no, supernatural thing. Really it was a little too much for him to have to worry about.
Davian took a sip of his drink again as Nova asked his question. "Walking doesn't usually help me clear my mind unfortunately. When I need to really calm down, I get on my ship and just look at space from orbit." He donned a wistful look again, then noted with some amusement as he witnessed a patron scurry away from Magnus' figure like a scared animal. "There's just something to looking out at all the stars, the vastness of the cosmos and nebulas. Maybe that really is peace in chaos. Call me power-hungry or attention-seeking, but I look out at all that..." he gesticulated at the ceiling, "...stuff, I just want to make an impact."
Davian lost his momentum as he came back to earth, so to speak. "Is that a bit much for a businessman to ask? Perhaps. I'll figure out a way."

@MockaDash @Galavant

 

[Halcyon]

"Good luck to you, then," Rigil nodded, not a single trace of sarcasm in his voice. "We are made immortal by our actions; I think I understand what you mean." He glanced at the cup he had offered Price, almost wishing he had not done so. "As kids, we all believe to have what it takes to distance ourselves from the common mob." Looking back at the commotion that was taking place, Nova could not help but become disgruntled with what he saw. A couple of workers fighting and people around them betting on the victor instead of breaking them apart. "Even someone who spent half his childhood living on underground tunnels, thinks he's best than most. Believes he just needs to get a break to show everyone what he's worth."

Nova continued to talk, almost as if doing it with himself. He occasionally looked at Davian while doing so but most of the time he was shifting his eyes across the room. "Yes, I was born with a gift that is coveted by many. But, while sometimes I thought of it as being a blessing, oftentimes it's more akin to a curse than anything else." He placed his hands on his lap, feeling his lightsaber under his dark robes. "Not all of us Jedi think the same, Price.

"It's not about putting up with politicians; it's about being stuck in a planet much like the one I was born in," he sighed deeply, "when I could be making a real difference somewhere else in the galaxy."

Nova was recalling Davian's words about flying his ship to orbit. He had a broken spaceship, forgotten on an icy warehouse, somewhere on that alabaster world.

"It's about dreaming of one day being able to travel the stars, only to be grounded on a new planet after doing so..." he paused and turned to face Davian, "what's the word I'm looking for?..." speaking to himself and snapping his fingers a couple of times while he retrieved the word from the back of his mind, "caprice? Yeah, that feels right. It's fate's sadistic caprice."

The Arkanian hybrid chuckled.

"But all this talk has parched my throat, I guess I'll be needing a drink after all," he said and immediately got up from his seat.

 

[Shalken]

Magnus rapped his fingers against the countertop noisily. That Jawa Juice was taking way too long. Were they actually that backed up with that many orders? He doubted it. Whatever.
One of his pant pockets began vibrating suddenly. Fumbling with the pocket straps, he pulled out his old run-down datapad with mounting interest. Maybe it was one of his contacts from Axum? Maybe it was--

Nope.

In big letters, the text read "Astartan Bank of Cybernetic Insurance".

Great. Just.....great.

"Thank you for doing business with ABCI! We hope your cybernetic refurbishments are suiting you quite well. We assure you, they're well worth it! Because of your Astartan status as a middle-class citizen, we must stress that although the interest on your plan is fairly low, we require the loan to be paid in full over a shorter span of time. Your first payment is due within the week.

Again, thank you for working wi--"

Magnus shut off his datapad before he finished reading the message. Damn creditors. That was one thing he hated the most: being in debt to someone else. He hated owing people, it was almost like a sort of slavery. They could ask you to do almost anything in return and you'd be obligated to do it.

Looking back toward the booth he had previously been sitting in, he noticed Nova had stood up and was headed toward the bar. Was he getting another drink? Perhaps he regretted giving his first one to Davian.

Checking the time, he realized it was fairly late. He'd have to find a place to stay overnight. Maybe Davian would let him stay somewhere? No, that would be too assuming. He'd check himself into a hotel somewhere.

 

[Vosrik]

Finishing his Ardees with one final swig, Davian set aside his glass and looked outside again at the miserable grey sky. The colours of the other nearby shops and canteens were muted and refracted across his face as they passed through the streaks of water that poured down the window. Blast, still raining, he thought contemptuously as he gathered up his datapad. It had been a long day, and he longed to get to his apartment where the thought of his bed seemed incredibly welcoming.
Davian got up and strode to Magnus' side, putting a hand on the Astartan's shoulder. "I'll be on my way for tonight. If you like, I can get you to start work as soon as tomorrow." He scratched his chin and paused. "On second thought, maybe in a couple days. I have to fill out the paperwork and arrange your payment. For now though, have a good evening." Davian gave Magnus a casual salute as he carefully waded through the crowded lobby of the Blue Box.
This canteen had some of the weirdest clientele he'd seen in one place. Davian stepped on something that definitely wasn't a foot, eliciting a squawk from something a few feet away. He paused before exiting the building. He hadn't brought an umbrella or an overcoat. Muttering under his breath about dry cleaners and how unnecessary rain was, he squeezed his eyes shut and briskly walked into the street. Although the downpour had let up somewhat, it was unpleasant and cold.
Davian took a final look back at the canteen, where he thought he could still see Magnus' head over the crowd. Shaking his head, he continued along the street toward his cozy apartment. He shook his head and pondered, It sure looks hella smaller on the outside.

 

[Halcyon]

On his way to the counter, Nova noticed that Magnus was still waiting to be served. The Arkanian was not in a mood to wait that long for his own drink.

As he was approaching the towering cyborg and was about to engage him in small talk, Valen pulled out his datapad from a pocket and began reading it attentively, as if giving Nova the cold shoulder if not for the contorting metal that was his face. The cyborg maybe did not notice it, but the entirety of his facial expressions were all still there. Whoever 'fixed him' did a hell of a job.

Nova Rigil perfectly recognized the look on the Tin Man's face. While growing up, he had seen it on many occasions on both of his parents.

The pale man with his dark robes leaned over the counter, standing not too close to Magnus, and not too far either; waiting patiently for an opportunity to engage the Axumite in conservation. It was with a bit of surprise that he saw Davian approach the other man, say something to him, and leave without addressing the Padawan. Apparently, he did not make as good of a first impression as he thought he did.

The outlandish and fortuitous encounter seemed to be ending the same way it had begun; abruptly.

It did not matter either way. It was best for Rigil if he returned to his master, before she noticed he was missing. He would have to be extra careful while entering through the window on the fifth floor, the same way he had left, so as to not drag any mud or rainwater inside, thus leaving traces of his impromptu soiree.

The barman looked his way, impatiently, waiting for him to order something.

Should he?

"Another one of those... Jabba juices?!" he said while searching his pockets for credits, then throwing them at the counter. "Yeah, that thing. Give me me another one of those!"

Hell, why not!

 

[Shalken]

Returning the datapad to his pocket like it was contaminated, Magnus looked up to see Rigil standing beside him. "Come to join the party?" he asked sarcastically.
Before he could continue, Davian placed a hand on his shoulder, mentioning he'd be able to work right away. Magnus' spirits took an immediate rollercoaster dive, however, when his employer then mentioned the paperwork, and that it might take more than a couple of days.
As Davian left, Magnus nodded his farewell, turning his attention back to Nova. He looked on with amusement as the Padawan ordered another "Jabba Juice".
"Don't get out very much, do you? No worries, bud; everyone starts somewhere."

The surly bartender, having served the other patrons, prepared both Jawa Juices at once, sliding them across the counter and swiping the credits. Magnus, grabbing his drink, turned to the Padawan. "Well, mate, I've got a sad story, and by the looks of you, I'd say you do too. So let's drink to the future." With that, he raised his glass.

 

[Halcyon]

Valen's remark, regarding everyone starting somewhere, flew straight above Nova's head.

"What do you mean by it?" the Padawan inquired and grabbed the Jawa juice; ignoring it, he decided to raise his glass. "To the future!"

He paused to take a sip from the drink. "I don't know if my story is sad or simply in bad taste," he said. Its bitterness made him grimace; the irony of such not lost to him. No, not irony, synchronism rather. "I was born on Corellia; you've probably heard of it. I don't know how the lower levels on Axum compare to the Selonian Tunnels on Coronet City, from where I'm from, but I imagine they're not unlike each other.

"As it turned out, my Force sensitivity was discovered and I was sent to Arkania, which coincidentally is my homeworld, to be trained as a Jedi." Pausing to take another sip, Nova bit his lower lip when the liquid nestled on his stomach. "Funny thing his," he started to drag his words without realizing it, "I thought I was gonna shave the Galaxy; turnshout the Galacshee needs no shaving from me." Apparently, the stuff packed quite the punch!

Suddenly, a light went on inside Rigil's head, Magnus' previous statement started to make - some amount of - sense, and he laughed mildly. "Dish?" he said while looking at the glass of Ardees. "Nah, I just don't drink much becoz of my weak constritition. Geneticsh, really. My Offshoot blood ish to blame. If nots for my Jedi training," he burped loudly, "I probablish couldn't handle a shot glash of dish stuff!"

 

[Shalken]

"Well, what I mean is....eh, you'll get it someday." Magnus took a hearty swig of the liquor.
He intently listened as the Offshoot told his tale of woe, interjecting occasionally. "Corellia...yeah, heard of the place. Never been there though. You're probably right."

As Nova's speech started to become slurred and clumsy, Magnus started to get a little fuzzy as well, cutting his words short. He waved a hand at Nova's comment about the Galaxy not needing any "shaving". "Nonsense! Heck, y'might not save the whole galaxy, but you'll prob'ly save someone's arse someday. Maybe even mine. Jus' you wait."

He wondered why his newfound drinking pal was having trouble handling said drink. Magnus had just recently downed a full glass of Ardees, and on his second; Rigil had only taken a couple sips, and the alcohol hit his system that hard already?
Magnus nodded at Nova's remark. "Ahh, yes.....Jedi trainin'. Mhm. How do you folks pull it off? Y'know, that whole...." He waved his free hand around in the air whimsically, "magic-y stuff, eh? Like, it ain't real, obviously, but keepin' a parlor trick up an' runnin' for that long, an' even makin' a whole cult 'round it? Don't that stuff get a little old eventually?"



(( I deeply apologize if I'm inaccurately depicting Magnus being drunk; I can't exactly write from experience. ))

 

[Vosrik]

"Blast!" Davian stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the rain as realization hit him like a truck. He'd already been walking for some time, but remembered that he hadn't given Magnus any way to contact him. No business card, number, office address, nothing. How could he be so careless and clumsy? What would Logan say if he knew?
His pent-up annoyance of the rain and his own mistake came to a head as Davian spun and forcefully kicked a metal pole along the street.
The pole remained quite immobile as his foot rebounded off it with a loud ring. Davian swore loudly and keeled over in pain. After a moment he recovered and began jogging back to the canteen, taking advantage of the eaves of other shops along the street to avoid getting even more wet.

 

[Halcyon]

[ @Shalken Apologizing for inaccuracy at portraying his character drunk. Stating it stems from not having firsthand experience. Implying I do. XP ]​

The Blue Box was rotating (not so) slightly. At least it was so, from Nova's point of view. He grabbed the counter in an attempt to make the room stop spinning; alas, to no avail.

He should have known better than to drink an unfamiliar beverage - one whose alcohol content was unknown to him - without immediately quickening his metabolism using the Force. He was doing so now, although it was significantly harder to focus after the fact.

He closed his eyes.

As Rigil's brain functions returned to normal activity, he could feel the ground beneath his feet stop wobbling.

He opened his eyes.

There he was again, one Magnus Valen standing in front of him, rather than three. What was that thing he said about keeping a parlor trick up and running?

"It ain't real? The Force ain't real, you mean?" Nova, obviously - and, let us not forget, uncannily - sober, rhetorically inquired. "The Force is what binds the galaxy and everything else in it! If that's just a parlor trick," he quickly alternated between pointing his index finger at Magnus and at himself, "then what about you and me? What are we then?"

Nova's mouth was dry and he started to experience a serious headache. He snapped his jaw and frowned. It was not going away.

The Padawan was able to heighten his liver metabolism to better catabolize ethanol; but he was not able to prevent the subsequent hangover from happening.

Also, he was going to have to spend the next few hours focusing on healing his poor and overtaxed hepatocytes.

Maybe another gulp from the Ardees would help ease the headache.

Surprisingly it did! Also, the burning sensation was not so bad this time around while the molten leaden ball rolled down his throat and curled up inside his stomach; albeit, the beneficial effects were not without a resurgence of the other - less welcoming - ones.

"Now lishen here mishter Tin Man!" Emphasis on the Tin Man, while continuously poking Valen's chest with every new sentence.

"If you'll refushe to believe in da Forshe, then I'm of a mind to show it to ya!"

Poke. Poke.

"The Forshe, I mean!"

Poke.

"I'll show it!"

Glare.

"Wanna see it?"

He stopped. Realized that last sentence could be interpreted in more ways that one. Reiterated.

"The Forshe?"

Poke.

 

[Shalken]

As Nova protested Magnus' statement about the force being fake (and blabbering on about it binding the galaxy together), Magnus realized sluggishly that his friend was no longer slurring his speech. Was he lying about not being able to handle his drink only a few moments before, and just pretending that he was drunk? He had to have been. Nobody gets drunk that fast, anyway.
Magnus raised an eyebrow at Rigil. "Uh....don't quite follow you. You're an Arkanian somethin-or-other, and I'm an Astartan Axum...Axum...."

What was that word again? It was on the tip of his tongue. Oh well, just find one that sounds right and go for it. "...Axumerian."

Nailed it. He took another swig to celebrate his linguistic magnificence.

Setting his drink down, Magnus abruptly rose from his seat, now standing beside Nova. Being called "Tin Man" wasn't exactly the same as being referred to as a droid, but man, it was close. Too close. To boot, Nova was slurring his words again - was he just playing games now?

"You'll show me, eh? Tha's what you'll do? Show me the Farce? Yeah! Fine then! Go for it!" Magnus tapped his chest quickly before extending his arms to the sides. "Hit me with one!"

 

[Halcyon]

A Jedi is taught not to give in to his emotions. Is taught not to let himself become overwhelmed with insecurities and inexperience. Taught never to let his temper get the best of him. Not to give in to lawlessness and instead preserve a placid mind. But above all else, he knows that the Force is undying. Even if others do not know that, he should not think less of them or let his own power corrupt him into thinking he is better than the rest.

A green - or some other monochromatic - little alien; one of the Masters he had come across with in the past; once said to him that power leads to tenacity, tenacity to arrogance, arrogance to pride, and pride always comes before a fall. One must therefore be ever mindful of his own power and not allow themselves to be corrupted by it.

Nova, despite being drunk, regained his composure upon remembering those words. He was not going to commit the aberration of picking a fight, even though he almost did.

"Wait a minute, did you just said Farce?" He inquired while looking up at the towering Axumite, getting dizzy in the process. Was he always that tall, or was he going through some kind of growth spurt?

Normally, he would not fall for such an obvious taunt. Normally, he would not be drunk.

Nah! Not this time, he thought. The Tin Man was kinda nice and all of that. Besides, what was he gonna do? Use telekinesis on him? If he did send Valen flying into the air he would probably bump against several other patrons, injuring them in the process. Furthermore, there was a possibility of Nova miscalculating the thrust employed and ending up sending Magnus through a wall or something similar. Magnus would probably get up unscathed, but then again, the other patrons most certainly would not.

Rigil now had an empty seat beside him, so he did the right thing to do; which was finishing the rest of his drink, and taking that seat.

The first bit of that two-part process went without any blunders. The second though, had Nova trip forward after slamming the empty glass on the table, and headbutting Magnus on the chest - since after all, Magnus' chest and Nova's forehead, were roughly about the same height.

 

[Vosrik]

Stopping in front of the Blue Box, Davian shivered. The wind had picked up some, but the rain had slowed down to a drizzle. He pulled off his treasured suit jacket and wrung it out carefully, drips of water pattering off it to the ground. Why did it have to rain? Concern lined Davian's face as he ran his hand gently along the seams. The water didn't look like it would do too much damage. Sighing and mentally preparing himself, he slid the exquisite maroon jacket back on and stepped inside.
His eyes adjusting to the light, he searched the room for Magnus. Davian spotted him next to Nova and a pretty-looking girl at the counter, so he began making his way over. Something was wrong though; a small crowd had gathered around the two, both were standing, and they looked like they were staring each other down. Magnus tapped his own chest before raising his arms out, and Davian heard a loud taunt from the giant.
With growing concern, he watched as Nova slammed a glass on the counter and promptly headbutted Magnus' chest. "Hey! What are you two doing!?" Davian shouted as he tried getting to them as quickly as he could. The crowd grew thicker though and blocked his way.

 

[Galavant]

Andrena hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on. That was what she usually did at bars such as this. She didn't particularly want to talk to anyone, or even really be here, except to sell a shitton of spice. The guy didn't seem to be in this particular venue with the word "blue" in the name. She wouldn't even have stayed at this particular one all that long, except that it was still raining and she didn't particularly want to go back out into it. That and the drink was actually pretty good. Which was a rare thing, for bars frequented by criminals. It was almost as if the owners knew that they could water everything down since the clientèle weren't exactly going to be writing reviews on the place, and had plenty of illicit cash that needed to be laundered.

But when a brawl broke out it was pretty hard to ignore.

Andrena hadn't interacted with anyone at all, but got the feeling that the guy who looked like he was made of metal was probably going to win the fight. She'd spent her time running the numbers in head for how much she should ask per a kilo. The moral implications of what she was doing hadn't really entered into it. Fundamentally she knew that drug transporting was kinda wrong. But what other people did with them wasn't her problem.

The bar fight on the other hand was.

Not because she really had to get involved, but because she had to get out of it. It was more a "for fun" thing. She'd never actually been in one before.

It seemed exciting enough.

So she picked up her empty glass and looked around for someone to throw it at.

The guy who had just said "Hey! What are you two doing!?" seemed like a good enough target.

"BAR FIGHT," She shouted because she could. And then she chucked her empty glass at him.

 

[Shalken]

"The Farce? Yeh, you bet tha's what I called it!" Magnus retorted sluggishly. Seeing Nova down the rest of his drink and slam the glass on the counter, Magnus braced for the worst. Drunk as he was, he was fully prepared mentally for anything and everything supernatural. He had every excuse and argument ready to explain why the Force was just superstitious magic tricks and mind games. And he was fully prepared to continue disbelieving all of it.

He was not, however, prepared for a headbutt to the chest.

Magnus reeled back a bit, shocked by Nova's sudden assault. "Bloody 'ell was that?! You call that the Force?" he guffawed, pushing Nova off his chest. He dimly heard someone yell "Hey! What are you two doing!?" shortly followed by someone else close by shout "BAR FIGHT!"

He didn't really care what else was happening around him, though. He needed to teach this Padawan a lesson. Magnus glared into his opponent. "Some Force tha' was! More like the force o' your face! You jus' can't do it coz you got no contrapititions aroun' to fake it! I'll show yeh some real force!" To punctuate his rant, Magnus charged at Nova.

Unfortunately for the cyborg giant, the liquor was starting to affect him too, blurring his vision. The room also began to shake and wobble considerably, keeping him from getting a proper foothold. These compounding effects turned Magnus' would-be bone-crushing assault into more of a directed tumble in Nova's general direction.

 

[Halcyon]

Why was his head aching so much? Stuff was happening all around him at such a fast pace that it was hard for Nova's inebriated brain to keep track of it all. He applied some strong pressure on his temples with both hands. The throbbing sensation inside his skull was becoming unbearable. Wait, no. It was mostly located on his forehead. Did he just smacked it against a wall or something?

The wall spoke, saying something something bloody hell something something Force. Then it pushed him and, Nova being the rag doll that he was at that moment, spun a couple of times and ended up facing the opposite direction.

He saw an empty glass flying through the air just in front of him. So pretty and shiny, sparkling under the kaleidoscopic bar lights as it went!

With mouth ajar, he followed its flight path and saw Davian standing in the trajectory of that miraculously aerial cup.

Wait a minute! He already left, didn't he?

Fairy glass gone, the pain intensified. Rigil suddenly crouched along with it, clenching his jaws, letting out a few muffled grunts. He, once more, needed to focus on healing his body. As he ducked, something seemed to tumble over him, trampling over his body and dragging him to the floor with it. Something or someone. Something surely, since it felt more like a truck than anything else.

Aching, the Padawan got up on his own two feet, using the nearby bar stool to help him do so. There was a considerably louder commotion going on. By the the Force, why?

As he became vertical again, he felt something scaly hitting him in the back of his head. He turned around - the room seemed to have missed its cue because it kept spinning some more even after Nova's body had stopped - and faced a bloated Rodian giving him a... menacing look? Whatever! Rodian eyes always seemed like those of a dead fish anyway.

"That's it," he said and suddenly stretched his right arm with the palm towards the alien. A surge of energy ran through his skin giving him goosebumps; it tingled a little and Nova giggled. The Rodian went flying through the ceiling and then crashing down into the floor, bringing bits and pieces of it down with him.

Nova remembered the sparkling cup from earlier. Entertained with the thought, he chuckled.

Another patron bumped into him, disrupting his state of self-amusement. The headache returned with a vengeance, as it seemed to be doing when Rigil was not laughing.

"That," he shouted, "is," raising his left arm in the direction of the nearby (ever so helpful) stool, "it!"

The stool, whose metallic frame was firmly bolted onto the floor, first moaned and screeched before bursting out of it, screws flying everywhere, and he hovered into the Padawan's own two hands. He held the improvised mallet over his shoulder as a bat.

"Come at me!" He said to whoever.