Rebellious Fun Intensifies

[Brent Fury Drast]

⌬ THEME ⌬
Open to any and all Galactic Alliance members - Also a viewing
​

The speakers blasting the music were not only well worn but they were not the best in quality either. Still it was more than enough to supply the Lane-House with the proper ambiance. All sorts of people were at the borderline dive bar that also doubled as a repair shop for ships and speeders alike.

The drinks were cheap, the music consistent and best of all it was on Mimban and away from any annoying Imperials or their Sith overlords. Stepping away from one of the game tables Brent took two empty bottles and set them on the bar counter to get them traded out for some new ones. So far he knew better than to get something that was not pre-sealed. Chances were with how busy things were the glasses were not getting completely cleaned and Brent was not about drink out of a plastic cup if he had a choice.

The man had decided to take a break from his normal work of repairing rebel ships. The Drast had wiped the grime and cleaned up well enough to seem like any other wayward son guy. A few beers in, two...no three shots of whiskey too and he was just starting to feel the affects.

Taking the cool brews back over to the game table he held out the bottle in his left hand for the lady he had been competing against. She was good, he had to admit but the man was not trying to win. Well, he was but that was not his priority. Instead he was just enjoying some company, some loud music and a steady buzz.

The Galactic Alliance had made some moves recently and he was here to celebrate with many of them. "Aay turn that up!" He shouted to the bartender so he could at least semi-hear at least one of the latest Episodes of The Emperor In Paradise. Whatever his feelings towards the Empire were, he had to admit that it was entertaining holo-series.

 

[Arda Breaux]

It was the first thing she heard about when she returned to Mimban after journeying across the galaxy to see an old friend, she was uncertain how she felt about their alcohol reserves being used for such an event, but would make sure who ever was running it would pay the bill. However, come to find who indeed was hosting this get-together made the Jedi Commander groan noticeably in that those around her had to check to make sure she was truly all right. Recently, their numbers grew and now there was another Drast in their fold, one odd-ball one who was nothing like his cousin, Alys.

Regardless, after all that has happened in recent months, Arda decided to check it out, in the very least, she could make sure her Jedi didn't become too obnoxious and at least there were not Mandalorians to stir fights with like the last celebration they had. There weren't many people yet and Arda went to the bar to order an ale; she heard Brent yell out for the bar tender to turn up the holo and Arda glanced up to see the latest episodes of the Emperor in Paradise were airing. She grinned at the fiasco unfolding in one of them and took a sip from her drink, nodding in approval of how so much better it tasted than some of the cheap stuff they had been getting.

"Brent!" she called out to the newest padawan, "So gracious of you to throw this party." she said.

@Darasuum

 

[Brent Fury Drast]

Half way through a thirsty gulp of the fermented beverage he heard his name called out. Brent's eyes widened in curiosity wondering who it could be. The voice sounded familiar and of course it was someone who he had heard quite a few times. It was non other than the spit fire Jedi Master Arda Breaux.

"AAAYYY Arda, arda arda bo barda, fee fii fo farda..." He did not finish the sing song rhyme that practically every kid learned in kindergarten. Brent cleared his throat to regain some composure and appear more the smooth talker than than the funny clown. "Ahem...what uh...what made you decide to come?" his right eyebrow jumped up for a moment knowing full well he was playing with fire even though it was a friendly flirtation.

Not enough people had arrived yet in his own oppinion. The man had made extra sure that there was good booze supplied. The bartender had contacted some dog delivery service or something. The man had not pressed for details because he had not cared. "Hey you know if anyone else is coming? I'd hate for all this good music, booze and...company, to go to waste. Where's Hugo, or Crix? Those guys owe me a drinks...or maybe its the other way around."

The Duro was not the only one he wanted to see. There was his own relative, Alysanne. The woman was a productive member of society compared to him but that was not saying much. Actually she was productive no matter who you compared her to. Still it had been a minute since they had hung out. Supposedly other people were bringing drugs and while he was not the type to purchase or carry, he was not against partaking from time to time for the sake of a good party.

@GABA @Wit @Raydo @Zay

 

[Luy]

Another bar, on another world. How many had there been, and how long had it been? Kothlis with Ner? It had been while since the old Feeorin had been sociable. So an all Galactic Alliance shindig was an oppurtunity he would take. He opened the door and sidled his large frame into the throng of patrons. Seeing the Feeoring was one thing, seing him not in his flowing outer robes was something else; those arms! But quite a few people noticed the saber and chromium knife combo either side of his belt.

A bow began to form as he made his way to the bar, he nodded to each and every person that stepped aside. His frame smearing intimidation into his polite and gracious manner. Quite more swiftly than most, the tendril maned head nodded to the barkeep. There was a confused look on their face and the Feeorin tilted closer. "Meiloorun Juice, cold and over ice, please." The barkeep shook their head and insited a real drink was ordered. "Do you know what a Carbon Freeze is, or maybe a Fuzzy Tautaun?" At the latter the barkeep clicked their finger and began preparing the drink. In a tall, far bigger than a pint glass a concotions of fruit and grain alcohol was mixed with sugar and a foam made from aerated stimulant drink was poured out and slid his way.

The Master smiled and nodded his large hand fitting aroud the large glass like it was made for his size. He placed down a few of the only credits he had and turned to face the bar, a few who smiled andwhispered to themselves had the decency to turn away as he faced them. Some didn't some just looked on in amusment and a few in wonder. Luy brought the drink to his lips and then took a dip swig of the citrus tang. Stress began to ebb away and his broad shoulders sagged slightly. He lowered the drink and wiped the foam moustache from his upper lips tendrils.

 

[Eisa Swan]

Kriff it's been a while since there had been an open call for some social team building within the rebellion, well atleast to her awareness. The last time the Fiery haired youth had attended an event, some over zealous mandalorians opted to get a little too physical. Something that she wouldn't soon forget, especially having had to pay out for some dental work to get afew broken teeth replaced with some false implants. Still despite that and from what she could vaguely remember from the concussion, it was an alright night, though there was the hope that this evening might be a bit quieter.

Stepping through the doors, the young Fiery haired Jedi cast her bright emerald gaze across the various faces that had already started to fill the joint. With a quick adjustment of her blue denam jacket, Eisa stepped into another somewhat impromptu gathering for the members of the Galactic Alliance. This time however, not dressed in her typical ill fitting mixture of boiler suits and loose t shirts. But was wearing a form fitting combination of black jeans, bright Fiery orange top and the blue jacket. Possibly being the first time, that she had been seen looking remotely feminine as opposed to her usual grease smeared tomboy look.

This was somewhat in part of the influence of her fellow Knight @Kae'Leigh Tameris, following on from their joint mission to Borgo Prime, the pair had connected on some level with each other. And to a degree, a few aspects might have rubbed off on the petite Jedi.

Moving deeper into the cantina she could start to make out more familiar faces, two Jedi masters, Luy and Breaux. The former being the one who oversaw her Knighthood trails, and the latter it had been a while since the pair crossed paths, that last being during their attempts to salvage parts to build a droid for the then Padawan. How things have changed since then, not only had she became a Jedi master but also inherited the unenviable mantle of orchestrating the rebellion.

And amongst the small inner gathering, was a dark haired male, one who Eisa if she had to admit couldn't say she could put a name to. Undoubtedly she would soon find out who he was, but before then there was something more important to do. Even though it was completely futile, the Fiery haired knight snuck up behind thgee female master whilst she was talking to the unidentified host, reaching out to tap her on the shoulder, only to nip around to the other side, flashing a playful grin and a wink as she passed Arda with a light chuckle before nodding to the unknown male and proceeding towards the bar.

Next on her list was the Feeorin, who fortunately was at the bar, two birds and one stone. Slinking up the the bar, Eisa gave the Jedi master a friendly nudge in greeting. "long time master Luy" Eisa cheerfully spoke, shortly after catching his attention before flagging the barman down and ordering a Photon fizzle with a double shot of nubian vodka in it. A bit of a departure from her usual soft drink tendacies, but if had been a while since the Fiery haired Jedi let her hair down, and be in good spirits.

 

[Arda Breaux]

He greeted her with a song and the smile that was on her face slowly turned into a scowl as he finished his tune, realizing that was probably the wrong and immature way to greet someone. Arda quirked an eyebrow as he question her reasoning to come, and the woman sighed, "Brent, I don't need a reason to show up."

However, judging by the emptiness of the room, she hoped that her showing up wasn't reason for others to not show up. She knew as the commander of the Alliance, there was some intimidation there, but she hoped not enough to not deter others from coming to the social. They all needed a moment to relax, such as this otherwise, they'd be as stuck up as a Hapean Queen. Brent had continued the conversation though, asking if she had heard of the whereabouts of Hugo or Crix, and a solomn look fell on Arda as she had yet to hear any more. They were both still missing and she patted Brent's arm, "No word, though I am sure you owe them drinks and they'll be back soon to claim them." she told him.

"Though, I'm surprised no one has spaced you yet, Brent, this could be a positive sign for everyone." grinned the woman.

@Darasuum

 

[Petr]

What was this Alliance all about? What purpose was so great that the man on Nal Hutta decided to give his life to it? What call had Petr answered when he decided to attend this get-together? Hopefully all would be answered.

"This seems to be the address," Petr said to himself softly as he stood before the door. The quietness of the outside was soon overrun by the loud noises of drunken folk and people on the holo. As the young zabrak stepped in, he saw many faces, of course none he recognized. He would have to get to know some of these people if he was to have any chance to realize what was going on with himself. The people there had this strange sense about them. Not strange in the sense that they were necessarily odd or off-kilter, more-so strange in the sense that there was an apparent goodness in the air. It was almost palpable. Petr longed for this feeling. It was a feeling he hoped to bring within himself someday.

Petr took a seat at one of the empty tables. He wasn't going to go up and interrupt one of the conversations that was already going on. He figured that his time was better spent waiting for someone to come to him.

 

[Brent Fury Drast]

A slight nod and an upturned lip of acceptance displayed on Brent's face at Arda's answer. "I know right. Who needs a reason to party?" He took a swig from his beer to emphasize his own take away from the conversation.

From in front of the woman he saw an easily seen red headed woman come up behind her. The Drast's gorgeous green eyes looked past Arda for only a moment then realized the little trick that Eisa was trying to play and did not want to give away her attempt. But he became a little disappointed as Arda did not even notice the mischievous act. The rebel figured it was probably because he had such a handsome visage that Arda could not take her eyes off him.

At her answer towards his remark though he just murmured in response. He did not have the relationship with the Duro to the extent that Arda had. Crix was an alright guy but more like a drinking buddy from time to time and aside from that no particular connection. What did warrant more attention was the Arda's follow up and remark about his well deserved meet-cute with the void of space. "Don't get soft on me Master Breaux. You should have a drink...or ten."

Next Brent stuck his bottle in his mouth and held it there with his mouth to free up his other hand. Wtih one he reached at a passing server and took the tray of shots out of his hands. He looked at him with a furrowed brow but with the now free hand he pulled out more than generous amount of credits. Once the man took the credits he returned his bottle of beer to his hand. "Come on. Don't you want to say you drank a Drast under the table?" His eyebrows shot up in a tempting. Whether she took part was fine, but he was going to drink half of them himself if she was not. Maybe he could say he was practicing that toxin neutralizing technique and not get the stink eye later.

@GABA @Plebometer

 

[Arda Breaux]

Brent offered that she should have a few drinks, waving off her comment about him having yet to be spaced and she smirked. He held the bottle in his mouth as he grabbed a tray of shots, exchanging his credits for the excessive amount of liquor and challenging her to out-drink him, more specifically a Drast. She eyed him, noting his boisterous ego and how much it reminded her of all the Drasts that existed in the galaxy and why so many frowned upon them. However, that didn't mean she couldn't indulge her own ego, "Ok, Brent, let's do this, you're on." she said grabbing two shots for herself.

She probably will absolutely regret this in the morning, but it had been ages since she let loose some. She threw back the first shot, letting it burn down her throat, warming her from the belly, outward. Licking its spiced flavors from her lips, she gave Brent another nod, and then took the second shot, enjoying the drink as much as the competition; placing the two empty glasses on the tray, she grabbed another two, waiting for Brent to catch up.

"Easy enough." she said quirking an eyebrow.

@Darasuum

 

[Levi Solus]

The outside of the bar was much less crowded and completely silent, a few birds chirping as the night set in. The orange light of the sun slowly fading behind the hills bathed the terrace area in a nice warm hue, but Levi was more focused on the front door, which kept opening and closing as people entered and left. Music boomed through the walls, faint and muffled by the thick duracrete. He'd been sitting there for a few minutes, cigarra in his mouth, wondering whether he should walk in or just observe from a safe distance. There was no telling how such a large gathering of people would react to his presence—his brain suggested that most people wouldn't really care, but there was a part of him that felt apprehensive. He'd spent weeks getting kicked around by fellow rebels just because of the things he did before joining—there was no telling if that would be the case today too.

Finishing off the cigarra and extinguishing it in a trash can, he tugged nervously at his leather jacket—cream brown, not unlike Jedi robes—and finally stepped forward, entering before he even knew what he was doing. Levi was immediately met with the smell of booze, thick smoke from various types of cigarras, and a booming music that fit right in for a dive bar/repair shop. It filled him with a little more confidence as he walked up to the bar area, glad to see a few—literally just one—familiar faces. He leaned up against the counter a few meters from Arda and the new Drast guy, not wanting to bother them from what looked to be a drinking game.

"A Keldabe city brew," he told the bartender, but the man didn't move.

"Don't have it." What kind of bar doesn't have such a basic drink? Did people hate Mandalorians that much?

"Alright, uhhh...surprise me," Levi added, less sure of himself. A couple moments later, the man came back and slid a drink his way, poured into a nice transparent glass so he could see the orange liquid within. Eyeing it with mild curiosity, he left it there for the time being and looked around the bar again.

 

[Brent Fury Drast]

He waited to see whether she would prove his unsaid expectation right. Brent thought she would refuse and while he predicted she would say no the man really wanted her to say yes. So when she agreed to do shots his eyes widened and his smirk turned into a full on pleased grin. "Who are you and what have you don't with my fearless leader?"

The woman was already taking shots off the tray. As if to signal this turn of events the track changed. He was still holding his beer and was apparently a few heart beats away from falling behind in the challenge he had just made. "Oh shi...okay." He was hoping somebody was recording this.

With a rushed hand he set down his bottle. He would come back to it later probably, maybe, unless he ended up face down on the bar or back on his ship passed out. Brent grabbed a shot and threw it back. He moved the tray off of his hand and onto the corner of the game table so he would not be holding it. At the same time he slammed the empty shot glass upside down on the wall of the table but Arda had followed the tray and grabbed her second. The Drast snatched up his second and took his second then slammed it down the same as the first.

"Famous last words." He retorted and brandished a third shot and held it up for an actual salute towards the Arda. It was not really a race, it was more about matching drink for drink than it was finishing first. "You ever notice what the underside of a table looks like?" He smiled and took his third shot, not waiting for her. "Cuz I'm about to drink you under the table."

@GABA

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Darkness bellowed forth like smoke from an uncontrolled wildfire. White light flashed sporadically behind the undulating shroud. Crix stood upon a craggy obelisk staring at the storm brewing before him. His emerald eyes bore an intensity that rarely found its way to his expression. In the pit of his stomach he knew he was gazing upon something more ancient and powerful than anything else he’d ever seen. Terror clawed at his innards as the gravity of his predicament settled in. Crix set his jaw and indignantly glared into the swirling vortex before him as the monster he’d come to expect began to coalesce within the writhing darkness. Piercing pure white eyes emerged and set their gaze upon the puny mortal before them and any snide remarks he’d had slipped away.

“Come to me.”

The words weren’t spoken but the command within was loud and clear. There was a finality to the message, this wasn’t a request. Before he could respond the wind kicked up and he found himself struggling to maintain his precarious position. His left foot slipped and a gust of wind hit him in the chest and suddenly he was weightless. Cast into oblivion like a pebble down a well. His body plummeted toward nothing the sense of falling ripping the very breath from his mouth as it formed a silent scream. As he passed through the dark clouds the sight of a pitch black ocean came into view. He hopelessly pleaded for salvation, but received none and just before he collided with the inky back depths he woke up.

Crix felt himself land on the cold durasteel floor of his faithful ship, The Highwind. He was coated in a sheen of sweat and his chest heaved as he attempted to fill his lungs with air. The mottled discolored veins across his chest burned heavily causing his limbs to convulse. The Smuggler steadied his breathing and centered himself in the force. He lifted a shaking hand to his brow and wiped the perspiration from his brow. This was the third straight week he’d had the same dream in a row and it was getting old. He pushed himself up off the ground and groaned as his body protested. He stepped over to his nightstand and picked up a pack of cigaras. He lit one up took a deep breath. His nerves were frayed so he decided the only way to get a good nights sleep was to get blackout drunk.

A blinking iridescent light caught his attention and he picked up his comm. An invitation scrolled across the screen and his lips parted in a sly smile.

“Perfect,” he said.

A few hours later he was smoking another cigara and stepping into a dive bar called The Lane-House on Mimban. He’d sworn to avoid socials after the embarrassment of the last one, but Fury owed him enough drinks to sedate a bantha so he figured it was time to cash in. His eyes scanned the establishment for the mechanic. He spotted a few familiar faces, but assumed no one was particularly interested in speaking to him since his little disappearing act.

Crix spotted Fury and Arda Breaux crushing shots. He needed in.

“Fury, looks like you started without me.” He lifted his hand and wiggled four fingers at the bartender. “Four shots of Dantooine Cognac please.”

The bartender hesitated for a moment and Crix said, “Just throw all four on Fury’s tab.”

The bartender laughed and poured up the shots. Crix took one more drag off his cigara and put it out in a nearby ashtray.

Crix carried his drinks over to Arda and Brent’s location set them on the table and said, “I’m a little offended you started without me,” he threw back on of the shots, “I hate playing catch up.” Another shot down the hatch, “Luckily, these were on Fury.” A sly grin settled in his face as he lifted the his remaining two shots and threw them back simultaneously.

With a satisfied smack of his lips Crix settled into a seat centrally located to the other two and looking from one to the other and asked, “So, I’m four shots in. Am I caught up?”

As he spoke a server walked by carrying a tray of beers. Crix absentmindedly pilfered a beer from the tray and took a long satisfying sip.

Realizing he’d not seen Arda since her elevation to Commander he dipped his head in reverence and shot her a casual two finger salute saying, “It’s been a while Commander, good to see you.” He flashed her his patented lopsided grin and then took another sip of his beer.

His objective was simple: Get absolutely frak face drunk. The only thing stopping him was a sudden nagging urgency to tell Arda about his dream. But that was like super weird, right? Right.

@Darasuum @GABA

 

[Luy]

Luy’s eyes widen as he was drinking another gulp but the intake of breath, at the sensory explosion that was Elisa’s shock of orange hair, had him choking on fizzing spirit and fruit juice. Spluttering he raised a free hand to grasp Elisa’s shoulder for balance, his large hand solidly pressing down on her. With a few rapid inhales he strained up and tapped her shoulder in thanks and welcome.

“To say it was a long time, such an understatement. It feels like an entire generation ago.” His voice sounded so right, as if he'd said it beforehand. The old Feeorin had seen so many come and go, but he was glad to see her. The trial had been a moment in which he took great comfort in. The Order acting as it had even with its reduced and weakened state. None of this weakness would be found when looking at or hearing this Master. Without his outer robe the tighter inner garb encased his broad chest and arms. His voice, which had been so commanding melded into a kinda, warmer tone that lacked none of the resolve. “But such distance has only made this reunion all the more grander.” His warm smile broadened as she got her drink, comradeship. Something that he thought was lost to him save in the few friendships he’d managed to keep alive. She had been a rambunctious Padawan, by the Force they had all been in their own way

He was about to say something when a feeling struck him, it flared through the Force and struck into the core of his being. Some may have thought that his drink was spiked or perhaps those that did not understand a Feeorin’s biology may have thought his years had caught up with him. But Luy’s legs almost buckled under the weight of this feeling. His grip slackened and the glass tumbled to the floor. His knees shuddering he glanced down and then snapped up to look at Elisa, but as he looked up there was someone else there.

Time congealed like spilt blood, like the froth at his Master’s bore throat so many years ago. He looked up to meet eyes that were covered, and pale as a lone pulsar. Her hand rose up to place on the side of his face, but as it approached the blindfold fell and her hair shortened and burned orange. He was back at the bar, time and the Force flowed again and he grasped the hand approaching him. “I-I need to sit down.” Blast, his voice quivered and strained. He was Luy of the Jedi Order not some concerned student looking to his Master. He was one of the Feeorin! Age did not weary them, then what had happened?

@Plebometer

 

[Abrakhal Grisgoh]

The garage was spinning, music boxing Abe's ears. He danced in circles, intoxicated blocks of brick for feet plodding side to side. Head down, flask in hand with an air-jabbing finger-pointing per hand to spare, he watched the floor whirl under foot like a portal into light speed. Lost in the abyss, delusional, looking like a stranded wanderer plodding through Tatooine's midnight dunes, he quenched his everlasting thirst with a swig from his flask; salvation, there's nothing like it.

Abe reeled from the taste of his fire whiskey, wincing and retching. Disgusting. He took another swig to wash down the taste. Abe coughed and teared up. He felt dizzy. He turned backstep after backstep until his hip collided with a barstool, hand catching counter. Solid countertop confused him, remembering he was not alone. He looked up and surveyed his surroundings, swimming. He squinted at the possibility of recognizing someone, sucking his teeth as he racked his soggy brain. He pushed off with a groan and shuffled over to @Levi Solus.

"Hey look! It's the Sith!" Abe slapped a hand over his mouth. Then he whispered closer, "I mean, hey, look, it's the Sith." Abe warmly placed a gentle hand to Levi's back, sharing the drunken jest with a dumb grin and fully expecting Levi to remember him from Jedha. Some might think Abe was referring to the episode of The Emperor in Paradise playing above, but there were sure to be sharper tools in this shed lurking in every corner.

Abe shook an open hand out to the side as if to say: surprise, it's me.

 

[Flynn Dondarrion]

Stepping back from the bar, having spent a good fifteen minutes walking to the pretty Zeltron girl behind the bar, Flynn winked at her as he walked away with the precise drink that he had been looking for. It was surprising what a smile and the right words could get you. Not fifteen minutes ago the burly old fellow, who was the Zeltron's companion behind the bar, had told him a Geonosian Bloodhound was too much effort to make when there were so many thirsty bellies to fill. And yet, here he was, walking away with one in his hand and possibly a place to crash for the night.

But the smile, while it didn't leave his lips, did diminish slightly in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow at what he faced right as he turned around.An exceedingly fishy looking Feeorin and a middle aged looking woman with shocking orange hair befitting someone much younger. The old man seemed to be giving the woman a sermon of some sort, not that Flynn could catch much beyond the passing word and the manner in which he spoke. But then the old man suddenly wavered and risking spilling his drink, Flynn stepped forward and caught one of the Feeorin's arms with his free hand and steadied him. "Shouldn't drink and preach pops." He said as he caught the seemingly collapsing Feeorin, helping him back into a seat. "Never knew a preacher who could hold his drink." He said more the last bit more to himself as he smiled at the two and walked away to let them deal with whatever had just happened, he simply wasn't particularly interested in further interrupting whatever talk they had been having. No, he was much more invested in finding the more cheerful part of the room and finding someone to share his drink with. Which, to his immense pride, he had managed to avoid spilling through that entire encounter.

His eyes finally fell on the host of the party, supposedly a Drast. That had surprised him, the fact that a Drast was part of the rebellion. The curiosity over that, and the fact that he was the host, made Flynn feel obliged to walk over and greet the man, and the circle that currently surrounded him. It was only when he got close that he noticed that one among that group was the new Commander of the rebellion. That was good, more influential tails for him to shake feathers with. "Gents," he said smoothly as he walked up to the group, nodding to all three of them in turn, "ma'am. Sorry to interrupt in your conversation, but I just wanted to thank our host for the invitation. I don't really get to mingle much with other rebels, so this was a good opportunity." He smiled as he raised his glass in salute towards the Drast, only then realizing that they probably had no idea who he was. "Forgive me, where are my manners. I am Flynn, Flynn Dondarrion. At your service!"

@Sangga @Zay @Darasuum @GABA

 

[Arda Breaux]

Brent's reaction made the Jedi Master smile as he quickly caught up in the number of shots, certain that he was going to win this reckless game of who had the best metabolism to process the most fermented vegateable juice. Though, Arda's ego shouted that it was going to be her as she picked up two more shots, but paused as she felt a presence that she had not felt in ages, she turned slightly as Crix approached, displaying disdain that they had not waited for him. He quickly caught up in the game, placing Arda and Brent two behind and Arda quickly followed, "Hold on..." she threw back her third shot and then the fourth without hesitation, "Yes, caught up." she looked to Brent as she turned the empty glasses down on the tray and picked up one more.

Crix congratulated her on her recent promotion with a two fingered salute, Arda tilted her head and mimicked the salute back with a coy grin, "Thank you, it makes it even more worth it when I see familiar faces." She picked up her fifth shot and drank, setting it down gently, "Now the rest of you are behind."

She was absolutely going to regret this later when the liquor finally hits her like a repulsor train.

A new face however joined the group, he was a sly one, spoke smoothly, dressed nice, and all the alarms in Arda's head rung: scoundrel. Charming to say the least, "Welcome Flynn! This is the best way to mingle, and I say we don't do enough of this," she handed Flynn a shot, "But that's because Brent here," she waved to the Drast, "is funding it, very kind of him." she said, clearly feeling the buzz now.

@Darasuum @Wit @Zay

 

[Tycho Draykon]

Hearing that a party is taking place Tycho couldn't say no. He couldn't remember the last time he stopped performing his duties to have some fun. And drinks. Can't forget about the drinks!

Stepping into the room he glanced around at the people that have gathered. Some he recognized others he didn't. Now two caught his eye, Levi and Crix. Crix he had not seen in who knows how long. Helping himself to the first glass he could reach, not bothering to ask what it is. As long as it is alcoholic he will take it. The criminal walked over to Crix, "Where have you been? Haven't seen you in ages!"

He will then chug half of whatever it was in the glass, "Kriff this is good stuff." He will blurt out before chugging down the rest. The glass will then be refilled.

Looking across the crowd he will spot Levi again, this time with Abe. Well at least here the former Sith will be able to have a good time, "How's it going Levi?" He will yell across to him trying to yell above all the chatter and loud music.

@Zay @vamp @Darasuum

 

[Brent Fury Drast]

Fury thought the drinking contest with his superior was going to attract a bit of an audience and out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure approach. The first of many, but then it turned out to just be Crix. He ordered while they were taking their drinks and taking a short breather. Raising a hand in front of his mouth in the form of a fist he stifled a burp that remained inside for the most part. Then he coughed when Crix said his drinks were going on his tab. Part of it was mostly from the shots though. So it turned out Crix did remember.

When Arda took her third and fourth shots the Drast mirrored the actions the same as before and slammed his own fourth glass upside down next to the other three. He grabbed another shot knowing that this all was not over and gestured for Crix to help himself to the tray of shots. It was now being split three ways. Maybe Arda and he would not get alcohol poisoning after all. Knowing himself by the end of this competition he will have forgotten restraint.

"You're a terrible role model you know that." he teased after Arda took her fifth shot. Throwing his back he did not taste it as much this time. But a fourth member joined their drinking. "If we keep having more people join we might need another round." He muttered more to himself and took a sixth shot just because he knew his bank account was going to be dead tomorrow most likely. Handing a shot over to the man he spoke who just introduced himself. "We're...five...*hic* no six...shots in Flynn. Better catch up if you want in. Call me Fury."

Looking over at Crix beside him he took a deep breath as his inebriated state began to set in more intensely. "After tonight I think we're gonna be square." Another one was consumed and he brought the glass down. It clinked against one of the shot glasses next to it. He should probably get some water after this. Ginger ale would work actually, water was for athletes and recovering from exertion between the sheets.

"So fearless leader...what do I get if I win this again? Seeing as I'm putting my liver on the line along with my hard earned credits what are the stakes?" He knew it was a little late to put in an inquiry for rewards. Dancing would probably suffice but he was curious to see how the buzzed Arda would react. He wanted to know what she wanted because whatever her reaction he predicted it would be amusing. Brent did not try to hide his interest in her answer.

Then his eyes looked up for a moment, wondering if he remembered what shot he had just consumed. he counted and then knew there were not enough left on the tray so pivoted better than he had expected but still bumping into a stool and going to the bar to get more drinks. With Tycho arriving he would definitely need more booze. He would say hey when he came back with more libations.

@GABA @Zay @Wit @Nommie

 

[Mira Kryze]

Mira groaned, a lifeless rasp exiting her lips not unlike that of a dying animal struggling to rise after battle. How long had she been there dying – an hour? A day? A week? It all blended together after a while, and if the pounding in her head meant anything, it would continue to blend. Time didn’t really matter much to her, anyways. Things came and went, just as they had before her and just as they would when she finally faded away, and there was nothing she could – or wanted to – do about it. She blinked several times, a lazy, ponderous action that took significant mental effort to do. Her eyes burned each time she closed them, if only for a moment, but it felt nice. Her chest heaved as she breathed in, sighed and closed her eyes one more time.

Mira peeled her face off of the durasteel ground beneath her. It was a tired, laborious thing to do that elicited more groans from the woman as she rose, which had become a near-constant noise while she revived herself. The Mandalorian planted her hands on the plating and pushed against it, bringing a knee up and resting it on the ground for a moment before doing the same with the other one. With great effort, she rose to her feet like some kind of drunken, lackadaisical phoenix, and managed to only stumble a few times as she went to steady herself. Mira ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her head, shaking it as she did so in order to clear her mind.

She checked herself to make sure she still had all of her possessions. Lightsaber, blaster, credits – everything looked to be in order. Mira looked down at her armor and brushed away some imaginary dust from the chest plating. Even in her off time she wore her armor, at least in public, anyways. It was one of the things she couldn’t shake from her upbringing. The Resol’nare demanded that they wear their beskar’gam always, after all. She may be a pariah among her people, cursed with Force sensitivity, but she could still obey the tenets of their culture as best she could with a compromise between Jedi ideals and Mandalorian cultural customs. She still bore the emblem of her clan on a pauldron, with the symbol of the Jedi order painted on the other one. She wasn’t ashamed of the heraldry; the galaxy needed heroes to look up to, and the symbols provided the people with something to believe in, even if her own people would kill her if given the chance. That’s how she justified it to herself, anyways; she just couldn’t bring herself to paint over the clan emblem.

There was another party to attend and, thankfully, it was nearby. After making sure nobody had seen her blacked out in an alleyway, Mira strolled from the darkness and into the light, holding a hand up to her eyes to shield them from the pain. The Lane-House was a short walk away and she had arrived in no time, though her hand-shield had been raised almost the entire time. The party inside sounded like it had already been well-underway and Mira was never one to skimp out on a celebration. What were they celebrating? Who cared? It was a party, and that was enough for her. With a small slap to her face, some deep breaths, and a quietly-whispered ”Oya,” she waltzed into the bar with all the confidence and grace that could be expected of someone already half-drunk, half-hungover, and rearing for more fun.

The music immediately compounded the pounding in her head, and Mira put her hands to her ears for a moment as she adjusted to it. With haste, she made a beeline for the bar, knowing that the best cure for a hangover was to simply keep drinking and not allow herself to get hungover. She leaned forward on the counter and shouted ”Tihaar please!” over the din of music and chatting patrons. The bartender’s blank stare told her all she needed to know and she shook her head, swearing softly in Mando’a, before looking back at him and raising a finger. ”The biggest glass of beer you have! I don’t care which kind!”

Mira looked around while she waited to see who was here. She recognized several people here as prominent members of the Alliance and Jedi, as well as many others she didn’t know. Her eyes slowly panned to the group gathered right next to her and she recognized... well, only one of them, actually – her new Grandmaster and Commander. She quickly averted her eyes down to the countertop, either from nerves or a fear of the Jedi downing shots right next to her. Frankly, she didn’t know why she looked away, but her focus was now on the beer she had ordered.

Her fingers drummed rhythmically along the countertop and she occasionally chanced a glance back towards the group beside her, impatiently waiting for her own drink – a hilariously-large glass (if you could even call the vessel a glass) of foamy ale. The bartender set it down gently before her and Mira tossed a handful of credits onto the counter. The glass took nearly two hands just to hold and was very clearly not designed for human use. She laughed to herself as she turned with the big-ass beer and looked around for some place to settle down and drink herself unconscious again. Fun times on Mimban.

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Speed was The Smuggler's ace in the hole in this little competition. He'd slammed four shots and had about ten minutes before they floored him, so he did what any red-blooded rebel/Jedi amalgamation would do: finish his beer and crush three more shots. Arda landed on five and Crix cheered!

"Two more and you'll be on my level, Master!" He teased. Peetwo was going to have to peel him off the floor. Poor little droid.

"OYA!" He bellowed as he slapped his 7th empty shot glass on the table. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly Mandalorian, but why the hell not? Of course, his countless drunken nights with Raz probably had more to do with it than he realized, but that wasn't important. A new challenger arrived. Dude was dripping in swag and honestly, Crix didn't care for him. Flynn (@Wit) carried self-importance that he'd never had and in his whiskey-addled mind it was very very offensive. Deciding his lead would suffice for a few minutes, he nodded a quick hello to the newcomer before heading up to the bar. Fury (@Darasuum) called after him claiming they were square.

"No, you're square!" He called back in a moment of brilliance as he made his way toward the bar. As he closed in he saw the biggest beer he'd ever seen in his life. His eyes widened in envy as he looked to its owner. He frowned as he realized he didn't know the Mandalorian (@Painus) holding the big ole brewski. He managed to make it to the bar next to her and looked to the bar keep.

"I'll take that." He said pointing at the humongo-beer. The bartender had a look of fear in him and Crix couldn't help but think him a coward. With more reluctance than he thought was necessary the barkeep obliged and returned with a beer that required two hands to carry.

"It's beautiful," he said staring lovingly at the iced-over glass. He looked to The Mandalorian, and said, "Thank you for showing me this," then remembering that they didn't know each other added, "I"m Crix, what's your name?"