Pre-TL:A Cool Cat Walks Into A Bar...

Killa Ree

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-Theme-​

The music was hopping tonight out here in a little slice of heaven. Where those persecuted by xenophobic society could be themselves, feel free to be their own natures. Here in the joint called the Slicer's Vice, Nashyr Ris finally managed to carve a small space of her own. All the dancers she hired were not human; beautiful, yes, but as far removed from the dullard societies of the Deep Core as could be. The music was hopping, the drinks were pouring.

The striped Cathar woman strode her way through the light crowd that milled about, light green eyes taking in every table that needed refills. Curtained 'booths' that meant patrons kept their hands to themselves. And the bar was relatively empty; perhaps she could balance some books, but meantime there were always thirsty people.

But she was just. So. Bored. It was too damned slow, maybe she could finally get stirred up with some excitement around here.
 

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Naturally, the best way to relax after blowing up a black market auction house was to get a drink. So after doing just that, Arden decided to go looking for a bar. One caught his eye as he walked. The Slicer's Vice. Certainly sounded promising. He made his way over to it and entered the bar.

It was not what he expected.

It was a strip club...but there wasn't one human employee there. Not that he was complaining at all, they were all very good looking. The T-visor scanned the building, getting a lay of the land before Arden walked towards the bar. He threw a small salute at one Twi'lek girl then pulled the leather jacket tighter around his armour, making sure his twin blasters were covered up. Not that they weren't allowed, he just didn't want to stir more trouble than he already had. He hoped that he avoided police or other gangsters.

As he waited for the bartender to help him, he spotted a Cathar that didn't look bad. Gears started to turn but they were quickly interrupted by the attractive bartender. "I'll have a beer, hon. Thank you." he said with a cool voice. He took his helmet off, ran a hand through his black hair and turned to look at the rest of the place again.

@Killa Ree
 
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Algarus

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Alana wasn't sure where she was, well she did, but she wasn't sure what this place was. There was alot of scantily clad women. Like, alot, and not a single one of them was an human. This was probably one of those non-human strip clubs she had heard about, which she didn't mind, she wasn't here for a show after all. She walked past a pair of scantly clad Rodian women, who made strange slurping noises at her, which made her get the feeling that she wasn't supposed to be here. "Ladies." She nodded, tipped her hat towards the women as she moved on in. Her hip holstered pistol slapped against her thigh, as she made her way up to the bar, planting her elbows down as the bartender looked over towards her. "Hey, is Marvis here?" She asked, going with the cover her dealer was going with this time. The confused expression that the barkeep returned her told her otherwise, as Alana scowled, her shoulders sinking. Had this guy run out on her too? She sighed, deciding to take up one of the vacant seats, as she gave a dismissive wave towards the woman. "I'll take a Ruby Ritz on the rocks." She ordered, as she cast a glance around the bar, and she caught sight of a Mandalorian and a...Cathar?

Alana had trouble remembering all the species names, but she felt pretty sure about that. Nodding, Alana kept to herself for now, and swiped the drink as it was slid towards her. She was one day with no chems, that inching sensation was coming and going, and sometimes the voices would scrap at the back of her skull, but so long as she kept herself loose she could tune it out. She raised the glass to her lips and sipped at the liquor, feeling the poison slide down her throat. It was nasty stuff, but it did the job, whenever she didn't have chems to spare alcohol was there to pick up the slack. She needed to find another dealer.
 
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Nefieslab

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Max

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

The Jedi walks into a strip club...

Still waiting on the punchline.

Of course it was a forgone conclusion that there would be a punchline because there always was. As for Max? Right now he was looking for something, or someone. Honestly, he had come into this seedy little place because of something in the Force.

A feeling.

Not a very strong one so unlikely to be anything dangerous or Dark but enough that he decided there was little harm in stepping into the den of indecency. Besides, he had come to the Jedi way of life later in life; he'd been to strip clubs before.

He pushed through the crowds and the dancers with a simple wave of his hand. The Force? The Jedi mind trick?

Nothing so obvious; people on the clock just didn't waste time with someone signalling that they weren't interested. Of course that still meant that SOMEONE had to get offended because of SOMETHING.

"Oi, pinky skin!"

... and apparently this time it was his species. He turned around to see a rather large Twilek male glaring at him.

"Evening." He greeted the other man with a small smile, "Sorry to disturb; just here to take in the sights."

He made to back down and had to turn his small step into a bit of a leap to avoid the wild swing of the man's fist. Max frowned slightly.

"Here to oggle xeno women you mean."

Max wince slightly, just now noticing just how drunk the Twilek seemed.

"... does anyone want to take this young man to sit down with a glass of water? I think he's had enough."
 

Killa Ree

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Now, usually Nash had a good gut feeling to rely on. It had gotten her out of many a tight spot before.. and into a few, if she remembered correctly. But if wishes were really coming true, it seemed to be happening in spades. Her gut tightened at the sight of a Mandalorian T-visor striding through... but greenish eyes blinked owlishly when he simply took off his helmet. Was that a thing?

Her bartender Sunshine, though, didn't bat an eye. Unlike most other Zeltrons, she was not cheerful, and resented being the type to give drinks. And though she was picked because she was beautiful... she was also picked because she was tough as nails.

And looked ready to devour the Mando whole. "Here ya 'are, babe," she rasped dryly, sliding over a full pint and mixing up the other newcomer's drinks. Up on the stage, three holographic Twi'leks danced with a live Rodian to an upbeat remix of a galactic favorite; it just happened to be one of her favorite songs, too, so she sashayed, tail swirling around her hips as she did. Like most of her girls, she dressed in what could barely constitute as 'decent' wear. Short black shorts, a tight black tank top with the club logo printed in bright neons.

However, unlike most of her girls, she was no twig. In this galaxy, height usually didn't mean much. You had to have some weight to throw about, too. Though not extremely stacked, she was... dense. And most patrons kept a clear path of her.

But ears flicked to a sound that she kept out of her bar, for many reasons as a matter of fact. It sounded like a fight begging to start. She caught the Mando's eye first, and offered a wink. Stretched. Caught the eye of a gal that seemed a bit spaced with her drink, and offered a small smirk, and a wink of her own. They both had a smell to them... they weren't from around here.

When the big Twi'lek made another drunken swing, she leapt forward, catching the fist, shoving back the Human and twisting on one heel, slamming the big boy Twi'lek to the floor with his own momentum. Unless the human wouldn't move at all, then she'd just be pushed against him.

"That's enough outta you, Baxxxx," she hissed, baring her fangs in a fierce grin, nose wrinkling in disgust. "You know we don't pick on patrons here; go clean up or clear out." The guy groaned soddenly, pulled up by one of his buddies, and she sighed, pulling a strand of black hair out of her face to face the guy that came in.

He was a bit older-looking than some of her patrons... but there was a gut feeling around this guy. She couldn't put a finger on it.

She jerked her thumb towards the bar, one hand settling on her hip. "Sorry for the trouble. First drink on me for it?" She met his gaze square on, waiting to see if the Human would take the offer or move on. Most came here for novelty; some came for their own thrills. She wasn't here to judge. But occasionally some snotty Inner Rim type would come sauntering to sneer and make xeno comments. She couldn't stand racism of any kind, so out they would go if there was any trouble.

@KinkyPrawn @Algarus @Nefieslab
 
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KinkyPrawn

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Arden took the beer and raised it to his lips. "Cheers, luv." he said before helping himself to a large swig. He turned his helmet to have the T-visor point slightly past him, letting him keep an eye on what was going on behind him. He looked up again and couldn't believe his eyes. The same junkie that gave him the putrid aroma on his armour came waltzing in, looking for someone. She didn't seem to recognize him...though, he would give her time to process. She was most likely coming off another high.

He caught sight of the Cathar, smiling as she cast a wink his way. He followed her with his eyes, spotting a Twi'lek trying to attack a new arrival. He took another large sip, lowering his glass' contents to less than half. He raised an eyebrow as the Cathar lady dropped the Twi'lek like a bad habit. "Looks like we got a killer queen here tonight." he muttered as he wiped the foam off his moustache. He listened to the little exchange, figuring she was the owner. With a smirk, Arden clipped his helmet to his belt, rose from his seat, and waltzed over to the owner. Taking another sip of his drink, he stopped a meter or two from her. "Well, good evening darling. Tell me something, does the fur match the curtains?" he asked her, that smug grin not faltering for a second even as he finished his drink.

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Alana had to take a double take as she witnesses the Mandalorian across from her turn into that one jackass from Nar Shaddaa. He made eye contact with her, so he probably knew it was her. What a jerk that guy was. Alana scowled and took another sip, nodding in approval to her Zeltron server, her thoughts bubbled on how she was going to handle this idiot.

She was going to kick his ass three ways to the deep core for what he pulled; but she was going to finish her drink first. This idea changed however as she watched the idiot get up and move to speak to the Cathat woman, and say probably one of the dumbest things she had heard in a long while. The urge to kick the Mandalorians rear end soon faded, as she grinned and went back to sipping her ritz. "Oh this is going to be good." She muttered to herself, leaning back in her chair as she just had front row seats to an asskicking contest, heck she might even join in.

@Killa Ree @KinkyPrawn @Nefieslab
 
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++ These sentiments really needed to work on their premises naming routines ++, was the conclusion that the red eyed unit had came to after its photo receptors had completed its full 360 degree rotation. The alleged workshop although was full of fleshies, had a distinct lack of slicing equipment, yet alone any clamping equipment. ++ Perhaps this might just be the waiting room for the fleshies to congregate whilst until a work station was available, or possibly the work stations were above these high counters that the various people were perching themselves against.? ++

With a series of grinding sounds, the centre drive tread extended from the base of the black cased astromech. The retractable limb sputtering in its movements as the Knurled drive gears failed to bite on and push the worn down gear teeth. Resulting in a loud clanging sound resonating within the droid's casing. Even with its centre tread only part way extended, the locomotive sub routine still kicked in, propelling the droid forwards, with a cringe inducing sound of its metallic casing scrapping along the duracrete surface of the floor.

As the R5 unit moved further into the questionable work shop. Its photo reception continued to scan for the slightest sign of a replacement scomp link, it's search being assisted by an extended periscope, that was peeking up over the counter top of the bar. From what R5 could see, this workshop was in serious contravention of many of the First Order regulations that was ingrained into it's base programming, then again perhaps it was from the countless times the droid had been reprogrammed as it 'changed owners' - the fragmented lines of code came up with the argument that ++ fleshies should wear personal perspective equipment when in an maintence facility ++.

R5-TY's fractured conclusion was reinforced by it's receptors focusing in on the sight of a scantly clad fleshie, of Twi'Lek designation flailing about in a cage. A series of broken binary beeps crackled out of its short circuited speaker, attempting to warn the patrons of the workshop that the Twi'lek appeared to be convulsing from an electrical shock - only for the panicked sounding tones to come out as pure gibberish. Knowing that fleshies always seemed to be unable to understand him, R5 decided that it would take matters into its own actuators. With the sound almost akin to nails running along a chalk board, the droid accelerated towards the dancer's cage, scraping the base of its chasis along the duracrete flooring beneath as it headed towards the Twi'lek
 

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The target had to frequent strip clubs because he had to make his job more awkward than had to be, Rezyl thought to himself stuffing the tracking fob in a pocket. At least security was lax enough for him to get in armed so maybe things we're going to go his way tonight.

He scanned the room, the placed seem quiet for a strip club, though he had never been to one before tonight so he didn't really know but he couldn't see his target in the dim light, the bartender would've likely seen all who have come and gone, so that was his next destination, the Bar.

He noticed the man in the Mandalorian armour but his helmet was removed, he must have stolen it since no Mandalorian would remove it in such a public place, as he approached the bar, his hood still up, he heard the fake mando's words and rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Where did you steal that armour?" he spoke nonchalantly at him after the Cather had finished with him, staring at the bar wall not even turning to face him.

@Killa Ree @KinkyPrawn @Nefieslab @Algarus
 

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The train job on Taris had rapped up for Dax about as expected. His patch work armor needed to be seen to, something he trusted to one or two select few in known space. He was going to sit and brood in his ship at the port, but he found he was out of spice and bourbon.

Departing his ship the mando would roam the streets, until his notices the neon lights of the strip club. "As good a place as any." He thought to himself and began to walk toward the door. On the way in however, he noticed a Zabrak thug. The mud brain made the mistake of robbing an old woman of her credits before turning and running toward Dax.

In a blink the thug was on the ground. His holdout blaster, knife and woman's credits in the mando hands. As well as a cheap pair of shades. Dax looked down on the mud humper on the ground. "Thanks" he said sharply. Then proceeded to walk over the man, making a point to step on his head before moving into the bar.

As the door to the Slicer's Vice slide open with a hiss, he his the weapons around him person. Making it look like he was simply adjusting his simplistic grey t shirt over his black tac pants and boots from his armor. He smiled as he quickly noticed nothing but xeno dancers and small but growing crowd. Also taking note that another mando(ish) merc had found his way here and was attracting attention.

"Just my luck" he said more or less to himself.

Then made his way toward the bar. Waving over a server droid with two fingers, seeing as the Cathar bartender was busy. "shot of bourbon and a beer." he ordered to the droid. Then returned his attention to the ever expanding crowd.
 

Nefieslab

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Oh.

Well the Twilek man wasn't going to be much of a problem for him anymore but he was a little bit concerned that the young man had taken a little bit of a bigger bump than was strictly comfortable or even necessary. He was fairly certain a stiffer than average wind would have blown the young man over if he was being honest with himself.

He smiled a little bit at the Cathar woman regardless and nodded happily.

"I would be delighted - the second shall be on me of course!"

Turning to the man who looked like he shaved with a machette and hadn't looked to have bathed in weeks, Max blinked a few times at the question. He raised an eyebrow. He turned back to the Cathar woman.

"Friend of yours?" he asked her with a small frown, "Seems to be a forward fellow. Shame about his face of course."
 

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She stiffened slightly when the Mando shiny boy toy came wandering her direction. Her tail flicked back and forth in irritation, and she stiffened her jaw ever so slightly, suppressing the urge to grimace.

Instead, something entirely different happened.

She turned towards the Mando... and she had the biggest shocked look on her face.

"Oh my stars!" she twittered, a hand over her chest. "For a second there, I thought you were talking to me. You naughty boy," she simpered, but the smile was a baring of fangs, hand still cocked on her hip and her eyes narrowing into a deathly glare. "I'm afraid this human male," she gestured to Max, "doesn't find you to be his type. And if it were directed to me..."

She stepped right into his face, glaring into his eyes with a growl just itching to rumble out from her chest. "Go find some other girl to slobber over, we've got plenty. M'kay, Buckethead?" So saying, she turned on her heel, stalking back to the other human. She let out a gusty sigh, then a tentative grin, cocking her head. "That's the spirit! I like you, follow me."

She lightly tapped the chassis of the rolling rough unit that garbled something... safety protocol? Some gibberish... and shook her head. "Wrong space, Sparky. This place is entertainment, not maintenance." She snapped her fingers to Sunshine, and the girl sighed, making her way over to the droid that looked... more than a little rough. Perhaps she could help better, droids were not Nash's specialty.

Now if Jaxu ever got off his tail, he'd be a better help...

She slipped behind the bar along with Niza, the younger sister of Sunshine, who seamlessly took control, snagging a bottle of Corellian bourbon and two glasses. "Prefer something different, cowboy?" she spoke, cocking the bottle his way. She then set it down, setting up the drinks for the other rough-looking space guy that meandered in... beer and bourbon, placed on the droid's tray as it wheeled off with a little chirp.

If that utreekov would persist in trailing, then she'd be ready to lash back again. She couldn't stand guys that thought they could drool all over her, just because she was here. There were some standards after all, even if this was at the tail-end of any civilized galactic space. And 'civilized' was putting it pretty karking thinly.

@Nefieslab @KinkyPrawn @Topher @christhebarker @Algarus @Taz
 

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It had been a long day at the forge for Njallgard and he felt like having a drink, the only problem was, he was dried out for Tihaar on his freighter, much to the annoyance of the Ursine as he went through the kitchen... and the rest of the ship. Sadly, no luck and his crew weren't much better as they had forgotten to buy booze when they went out for restocking the ship with fresh food and provisions.

Going back to the cockpit, the Ursine sat down and started to check for nearby planets that could provide him with some cold beverages to relax, before going back to work. When finding a planet, he plopped in the route in the system and before he knew it, he had landed and ventured out to find a bar or club. His crew stayed on the ship as they still had work to do or just didn't wanted to accompany him this time, which it had no trouble with.

Wearing his Beskar armour, making him look rather threatening and just to top it off with how large he was, didn't help the matter one bit. He looked very much like a hulking tank walking down the street and along with the war mace hanging by his hip in a metal ring by its head, for easy retrieval in a fight. Not to mention the heavy blaster on his other hip. The mace itself had a sigil on both sides, shaped to resemble a roaring bear. While the war mace might look very large and heavy for humanoid creatures of the galaxy, the war mace for Njall was one of the lighter melee weapons he used, given how much he worked all manners of variants.

The large Ursine didn't really pay much attention to everyone else as he walked by everyone else as he really just wanted to have a drink, which might come sooner than he expected. Just as he was about to walk past the Slicer's Vice, a rather larger Twi'lek, walking drunkenly directly into Njall's hulking present, making the Twi'lek tip over and land on his ass.

"Oi, watch where you are standing asshole!" yelled the drunk Twi'lek annoyed by the fact that he didn't beat the human back in the bar, so Njall was the one to receive the Twi'lek's anger. However, his buddies were almost comically fast in getting their friend out of Njall's way, just because of how big the Ursine actually was, not to mention had Mandalorian armour on.

The emotionless t-visor followed the little group, skedaddle out of his way and for just a second he thought about following them and bash their heads in with his mace, but he really needed a drink and decided against it and entered the Slicer's Vice. Entering the establishment it became obvious what kind of place this was, but that didn't matter, he just needed a drink and then it could be on the end of the universe for all he cared.

It wasn't the most crowded place and he was fine with that, which meant room at the bar to get a drink. The first person that caught his eyes, was the other Mandalorian (@KinkyPrawn), or at least the armour, but he had his helmet off? Either a Dar'manda or Beroya. As he headed up for the bar, he planted his large hands on the bar counter and waited for the bartender to arrive. "What would it be, big guy?" Asked the bartender. "Give me ze best poison water you 'ave in ze largest mugs you got" ordered Njall with a thick, but a husky voice. He would have seated himself be the bar, but frankly, he doubted the chairs could handle the amount of weight from his armour and just how large he was as he hit around the 300 kg and it certainly wasn't fat.
 
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Topher

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The red LED 'eyes' of the R5 unit spun round to face the furry fleshie, that went by the designation of Cathar, it's receptors rising upwards to regard the sentient creature - staring at it blankly through its lenses as the female cathar spoke out about this establishment being entertainment not maintenance. Whilst the works spoken to the droid did compute to a degree, the reference to Sparky, presumably one of these informal designations that these fleshies give droids for some reason - did not compute, his designation was R5-TY, not sparky. ++ Argument invalid, message intended for other astromech unit - Incorrect designation cited ++ the black cased Droid continued to blankly look at the cathar creature for a moment longer before letting out another incomprehensible series of beeps and tones, before rotating its head back towards the caged Twi Lek dancer and rolled away, scraping it's chassis as it advanced towards the raised podium that contained the 'trapped dancer'

As the defective droid continued towards centre of the establishment, its head periodically rotating around to update itself of its spacial situation. Before coming to a halt at the base of the caged podium. R5-TY's red optical receptors spun round to look up towards the Twi-Lek, before an series of tones rang out from it's distorted speakers, the tones sounding the exasperation the droid was holding towards the fleshies that occupied this facility, all of whom had not appeared to have noticed that the trapped Twi-lek was still flailing about.

++ Fleshies are unaware of danger, engage rescue protocol ++ R5-TY concluded as it's fractured sub routines finished its current analaysis of it's surroundings, before one of the compartment doors flipped open, before a pair of manipulator arms extended out from the droid's chassis and reached out towards the elevation controls of the dancer's podium. The Pincer like appendages making short work of simply battering the outer casing of the control panel, revealing the inner circuit cabling that had been hidden away. With a feverish determination the droid pulled and snipped away at the wires, cutting off the power that was running through the dancers cage - killing the lights and music that was being emitted from the platform, and trapping the Twi'Lek dancer in its cage several meters up off the ground.

++ Fleshie Designation Twi-Lek made safe - return to previous sub routine ++ Ran through R5-TY's processor core, as reversed away from the base of the podium, it's receptors catching sight of a rather confused looking Twi-Lek staring back at the droid. ++ Clearly the Fleshie must of been in a state of shock from being electrocuted ++ the droid concluded, before it's head spun round and it rolled away from the podium, its extended periscope and red hued lenses panning round to continue it's search for the slicing equipment that was supposedly available at this establishment.
 

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Arden kept smiling as the Cathar spoke to him, deflecting his flawless attempt at flirting with her. She stepped right up to him...but that seemed to only increase the smug grin on his face. He tipped the mug against his mouth and sipped the last few drops before watching her walk off. "I think I'm in love." he said to himself.

Before he could even think of pursuing the Cathar in his journey for conveniently short-term love, some other moon jockey decided to confront him. He slowly turned to face the man, his smile melting into a lethal scowl. "You wot, mate?" he said, glaring at the man. "Just because I wanna have a normal conversation with a person and hope to bury my face in a stunnin' lady's bosom before the nigh' is over, now I'm no' a real Mandalorian?" he fired back, taking note of some new characters entering the club...including one very absurdly large Mandalorian. He was happy to at least see another vod in the galaxy. "Now, lemme ask ya this: where'd ya steal that cape? Lando Calrissian?" he continued, a hand sneakily sliding down to his holster.

"Now, bugger off, will ya. And stop being momma's little snowflake and get a hat like a normal bounty hunter. And leave Cad Bane out of it, this time." and with that he left to fetch another drink. Though, even as he walked, he was ready for things to go south. If the boy didn't obstruct him, he would wander over to his fellow Mando(@Raven_41) and plop down next to him on a stool. "Oi, luv. Can I ge' a top-up on this? Thank you, sweetheart." he said in a sing-song voice with that smile returning as he pushed his empty mug towards the bartender. He looked up at the absolute unit next to him. "Well hello, sunshine. How ya doing?" he said cheerfully. "Anything new goin' on?"
 

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Dax gave a kinda "hmm" sounded scoff with a half smile to the Cathar bar tender(@Killa Ree). Who tried to tell his fellow mando that he didn't have a shot in galaxy, but from his apparent counter, he wasn't getting the hint. Seeing she was enjoying the attention, and the business, Dax turned his own attention to the rest of the bar.

Or he would have. But the mountain of metal made it nearly impossible. Dax took his beer over to the walking tank. Knocking on his over sized helmet with the bottle.

Speaking in mandalorian, "Is that real iron skin, because it looks like a parted out a light freighter poorly attempted to turn it into a set of armor." @Raven_41
 
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Alana was a little disappointed that the assholian didn't get knocked into next week, but she gave props to the Cathar for tolerating him. Suddenly something massive moved past her field of vision, as she gazed up at the armored bear creature with wide eyes, as she merely nodded and sipped her drink. That was one feller you didn't want to have a quarrel with. Seeing how the Mandalorian was going to get off scott-free for the time, Alana instead turned her attention to the droid that was making a b line for one of the cage dancers. Finishing off what was left of her drink, she slowly began to realize that the little astromech was on the fritz, as it seemed to go haywire on the control panel. It was an expensive mishap too, as Alana could only grimace as the little droid was digging itself into a hole. Was it even aware of where it was? Probably not.

As the lights and music from the stage was disrupted, Alana sighed and rose from her seat, as someone needed to get the little guy under control before he got sent to the scrap yards. Someone was going to have to help that poor dancer too. Alana would intercept the astromech, putting a hand on top of it's domed head, as she was hoping it would come to a stop. "Hey little guy, you fry a circuit board or something?" She questioned, taking a soothing tone with the little guy. "You keep this up and the owner is going to turn you over for some scrap and quick credits." Alana cast a look back to the caged Twi'lek, who looked none too pleased with the droid. This was totally going to kill her buzz.

@Topher
 
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The beady red irises of the black cased droids spun round to look at the fleshie that had approached and placed a hand on its metallic head, the glowing red hue of the photo receptors, pulsing slightly as the droids scanners processed the female fleshie that was speaking to it. Questioning whether it had been frying circuit boards, such a strange thing to say, why would fleshies want to cook a circuit board in oil?

The confusion over the female fleshies words soon shifted to panic, at the mention of Scrap. That meaning was all to well known, and was enough to fill the droids processors with dread. A series of panicked sounding tones crackled out of its faulty speaker, as the droid seemed to 'quiver' as its head spun round wildly. Scanning those present around it, updating its situational awareness, marking the locations of all the fleshies.

++ Self preservation sub routine active ++ the droid computed, before it wheeled itself away from Alana, backing a way with a sharp cringe inducing scraping sound. A series of frustrated sounding tones screached out of the droids faulty speaker, the cumbersome floor was going to hinder its escape. It would have to rely on an alternative means of escape, with a series of grinding servos. A pair of thrusters emerged from the main locomotion stalks at the side of the droid, before a series of bursts sputtered out from the revealed thruster jets. Lifting the droid up off the ground, by a meter or so, only for the faulty nature of the droid to catch up with it.

The thrusters cut out after a series of final spurts of blue flame, before the droid fell back down onto the ground face first with an almighty clatter. Leaving the defective droid just rocking back and forth on the floor, screeching out a series of incomprehensible binary tones.
 

Caught in Strangereal

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Sera was just trying to enjoy a cold cider and perverse sights for the. She actually rather enjoyed the lack of any crowd , things were dull and she could let her thoughts wander as her eyes took in all the stimuli. Then the worse that could happen, happened. People started showing up. Between the flirting Mando that made her cringe, to the walking polar bear and the older guy who's very sight unsettled Sera for a reason she couldn't quite explain. She was feeling rather repulsed.

So she turned to downing a few tall glasses of cider and trying to maintain a nice strong buzz that could dull the annoying people and noise of all the conversations going on as she tried to find some peace. Truth be told she didn't want to leave. Night time meant wandering around the streets trying to find a safe place to sleep, and being subject to all the unsavory types that could take advantage of the opportunity. Sera's mind was jumping to the worse case scenario causing her to shudder at the thought of waking up...

The screeching sound of metal on metal contact assaulted her ears. Sera would cover find her neck muscles stiffening and twitching ever so slightly in response as she slowly turned her head to look at the droid that was making a fuss. The karking thing somehow fell on it's side and was now incoherently rambling off. Binary meshing with high pitched screeches that pierced ears. It's distorted tones was mostly gibberish except for the occasional beep of binary that actually resembled a word. All Sera knew in that moment was that no amount of alcohol could drown it out and the noise needed to be stopped.

Finally getting up the Slender woman would wave and maneuver her way through the crowd to the R5 droid(@Topher) her ears registering the noise with more and more annoyance. She could already feel a headache start to form and feeling drained from just dealing with the noise. Still at least she could make it stop... possibly. Now standing beside the droid she would kneel down trying to look over it's condition. This thing was both really old and likely poorly maintained going through a rough past. Still this wasn't her first time getting a droid to shut up and she hoped the few tricks still lodged in her mind would work.

"1C 3C R34 M. Initiate diagnostic Standby" She muttered in a tone that was about as impersonal as the metal used to make the droid. It was a common command used to put droids into a maintenance code. Sera using it before to slice a few droids before hand and even a R5. The command if working as intended did a couple of things. Mainly temporarily seizing all commands to the droids motor function, clearing the caches of junk data getting the binary audio output device to stop recieving signals for noise output the works. Enough to make it stop making noise, in theory. If not... well then drastic measures might need to be use...
 
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