Hannibal looked rather interested in how friendly Mr. Cat was toward the new arrival, sniffing at the proffered hand before graciously allowing the Sephi to pet its well-kept fur, purring all the while.
"Prrr," said Mr. Cat.
The armour it was currently sat casually atop was one of a few sets kept neatly on vaguely Hannibal-shaped mannequins. There was another near it that while not marked by lightning certainly had its own share of scars and battle damage, stitching closing some of the holes in the cloth and leather, the helmet bearing scratches and scuffs. All polished and cleaned, but not quite removed.
One set of nearly pristine armour in a different style, mainly blue and black, that clearly hadn't seen use in ages. The rack of weaponry was similar, some still even with price tags or notes attached. Across the way was a shelf of little trinkets and gifts he'd sometimes received from people out in the galaxy. Another had several leather belts hanging and some tools and other such things on a shelf below it, security spikes and rebreathers and things of that nature.
Sevrin noted his 'collection' and he turned back a little toward him, looking first at the armour and then the Sephi Jedi. He shrugged.
"Just my tools n' such," he remarked breezily, "Nothin' to be proud of."
Then he moved right along to the next area, the meditation area as the sales brochures would call it. It was certainly more of one than it had been originally but near the back there still as a hot tub. Hannibal put his glass and bottle down on a table and unclipped his belt, placing it aside.
"Mr. Cat likes you. That's a good sign, I think."
"Prrr," said Mr. Cat.
The armour it was currently sat casually atop was one of a few sets kept neatly on vaguely Hannibal-shaped mannequins. There was another near it that while not marked by lightning certainly had its own share of scars and battle damage, stitching closing some of the holes in the cloth and leather, the helmet bearing scratches and scuffs. All polished and cleaned, but not quite removed.
One set of nearly pristine armour in a different style, mainly blue and black, that clearly hadn't seen use in ages. The rack of weaponry was similar, some still even with price tags or notes attached. Across the way was a shelf of little trinkets and gifts he'd sometimes received from people out in the galaxy. Another had several leather belts hanging and some tools and other such things on a shelf below it, security spikes and rebreathers and things of that nature.
Sevrin noted his 'collection' and he turned back a little toward him, looking first at the armour and then the Sephi Jedi. He shrugged.
"Just my tools n' such," he remarked breezily, "Nothin' to be proud of."
Then he moved right along to the next area, the meditation area as the sales brochures would call it. It was certainly more of one than it had been originally but near the back there still as a hot tub. Hannibal put his glass and bottle down on a table and unclipped his belt, placing it aside.
"Mr. Cat likes you. That's a good sign, I think."
@Sreeya