Dromund Kaas Casino, Early Evening
Fog clouded towering windows, rain spattering roughly against glass. The typical weather of a humid evening on Dromund Kaas, grim and dreary, and entirely bland. In comparison, the dazzling glow of the casino lights is nearly enough to grant the Nautolan's mind with a buzzing sense of cheer. It's a rather large facility, a sprawling estate with several floors and rooms, and with a grand view of the capitol city. An arcade spans several vast chambers, and a casino and grill rests near the back, while upper levels were reserved for guests within the built in hotel. The popular entertainment center was aptly named, The Jeweled Sleen, and it certainly succeeded in attracted both the young and old alike.
Zeel is, naturally, in the casino, but even above the excited chatter that hums through the warm air around him, he can still hear the thrilling buzz of the Arcade nearby. Draped in casual clothing, he blends well into the local population, teeth glinting with flashed grins and the occasional flirtatious remark. He's not here on Sith business, far from it, actually. He's here to have fun. To celebrate. More specifically, to celebrate the shitstorm that was still ripping through the holonet even a week after Kashyyyk. He only regrets that he hadn't been there to help himself, but Zeel had practically frothed at the mouth when it came to the footage of the event, not only from the upper atmosphere, either. Those Jedi that had tied wookies to their shuttle? Priceless. It was a shame they'd face the wrath of their order, but the Jedi always were an uptight bunch. Zeel had no regard for the lives lost. No, as far as he was concerned, it was funny.
In any case, he had sent a general invitation out to any Sith looking to join the party, and from his own supply of revenue, he had even reserved the group a private booth in the grill and bar. He hadn't invited anyone specific though, and he doesn't really care if anyone shows up. Zeel is perfectly capable of gambling his savings away all on his own, and with the many other entertainment seekers within the building, he's certain enough that he can find a young group to snare into his all too eager conversations. The Nautolan slips between pool tables as he heads toward the bar, pivoting around a gruff looking man who seemed intent on winning his game. Naturally, he gives them a surprising pat on the shoulder.
"Woah, that looks difficult! Good luck, man!" The Champion all but purrs, and he's moving away before the man can even make his irritable response, because Zeel had so blatantly caused him to lose his focus. He's doesn't feel bad about it, though. No, the Nautolan walks off with something akin to a quiet snicker, and as the man close behind him lines up his cue stick once again, fully intent on striking the white ball with perfect precision, Zeel grants a quick and dismissive flick of his wrist. The cue ball swerves wildly off course, missing it's target on the pool table entirely. As the man lets out a loud string of curses, the Sith carries on with a ringing laughter, because that hadn't merely been a spot of bad luck. Zeel had purposefully shifted the ball with the force, for little more reason than his own entertainment.
He's grinning ear to ear by the time he reaches the grill and bar, surveying the brightly lit menu with glistening eyes that reflect the dazzling display.