What is Alcool?

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

If there was one thing in the Galaxy that Lady Kathreveris had never experienced, it was the life of the party. Her rather harsh upbringing made it hard for her to live anything even moderately close to an ordinary life, and since her childhood had been spent learning to fight, she edged for some release. So, when she heard of a planet that was renowned for it's ability to allow denizens to drink the nights away, she was immediately curious. And Zeltros had not disappointed. The showering and glimmering lights that reflected off the finely crafted buildings, the revelers in full swing of the party passing through every street corner and waving hello. It seemed to be an oddly disconnected place, hidden away from the horrors of any war. Kathry found herself gently swaying to the tune as she overheard a young Zabrak couple arguing about which cantina to enter.

If you're going to stand there bickering all day, the party will just go on without you...

She gently pushed past them, garnering a startled look from the young woman and angry glance from the man. They didn't try anything, however, and even if they had she wasn't worried. She hadn't come armed, but she was lethal enough as it was. This was a time to relax, and she wasn't going to let anyone stop her. Approaching the zeltron bartender, who was... surprisingly alluring. Kathry paused, her eyes going out for a moment, forgetting what she had been about to ask.

"You look lost. Drink?"

"Uhm, if you have water."

"...Alcohol? Like an alcoholic drink? We don't serve water, unless it's on the rocks."

He winked, and she immediately rolled her eyes at the stupid pun. Turning over, her eyes seemed to get a little wider, then began to smoke and crackle with red flames. It was a natural defensive ploy she used to intimidate, for some she felt suddenly tense and ready to bolt.

"...I've never had alcohol before. What would you recommend?"

He grinned and poured a bottle of red liquid into a really, really large mug and pushed it over to her with a smile. When Kathry tried to offer her credits, he waved her off and murmured something about the first drink on the house. She wasn't really interested in this one, no matter how pretty he looked, he was much too... passive. Either way, the drinking would be interesting enough. Choosing a small corner table, she gently walked towards it and laughed gently as the poor rodian that had been sitting there saw her and bolted. It seemed being a Sith and Vahla was not a good mixture, especially in parts where they might recognize her. She was surprised the bartender hadn't been downright rude, but he was a Zeltron, they were naturally jovial. Taking a long swig, she felt her head began to spin and her chest grow warm and fuzzy. Leaning back on the chair, she felt a gentle and genuine grin cross her face as the effects washed over her almost immediately. Part of the cantina began to stare, it was likely the first time they'd seen a Sith drunk.

I... oh... what did... what... I just do?

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim was drinking some kind of whiskey, not his usual drink but the bartender had said he was insulted that the Bothan even suggested there would BE beer in his establishment. He was on his third and was finally starting to feel it, as he was just nursing them for now.

He watched a strange woman with rather frightening eyes accept a mug of the red stuff (Grims own name for whatever that was from when he tried it the other night) and scare a Rodian away from his table, that Rodian was weird. Grim remembered him from the other night too, guy had tried to sell him deathsticks. Real pushy too until the barrels of the Bothans modified DB-70 were pressed into his groin, only thing Grim hated more than Exiles were pushy drug dealers.

Being somewhat tipsy he finished off his drink and got himself another one, just buying the bottle at this point. He got up and carried his glass and bottle over to the strange womans table.

"Oh no, you're actually DRINKING the red stuff? That shit kicks like a Bantha."

He chuckled and flopped into a chair opposite the woman, quickly shooting a glare to anyone staring as she looked slightly embarrassed.

"So, what brings you to this liver killimg planet?"

@Herrith @TheMorrigan

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Zeltros.

There were a lot of names she'd called it...

A dream world, the land of idiots and ignorance, Farking Waste of Space...

Home.

Herrith had no desire to stay here, much less even be here in the first place. But she had to make sure that it was still what it had been when they'd sent her away. She'd managed to get through, no doubt to her significantly different appearance from the innocent, young, and naive Zeltron that everyone had known. Of course, she had to be cautious, and appropriate clothing consisting of a shirt advertising a famous band and the accompanying short shorts. To be fair, it wasn't all seriousness; not everyday did Herrith get to dress up, or at least felt like it. She'd be unrecognizable. Even to family. Her parents could have been dead, to be honest...or were leading a multimillion dollar corporation and keeping all the money from her sisters. Everyone smiled, everyone laughed, everyone danced...

Nothing had changed. There was a war going on, and not one of these people seemed to care, or even know about it. Just like she remembered from a decade ago. She entered the cantina, seeking refuge from the slightly louder music outside, and ordered a drink, which the very same bartender that had served the Sith winked and passed on some kind of a cocktail that looked like it glowed a fluorescent blue. Of course, that was just the UV lighting and the lighting in general screwing with vision. She smiled, knowing the "on the house till you're wasted" policy, waved and then wandered off, taking a sip.

No harm in getting a bit tipsy, right?

And soon enough, she'd finished the whole damned thing, steadying herself against a column. Holy...kriff. What the hell are these people making? A drink in and I'm already about to fall over...what are they putting in this? Poison?

She shrugged off the feelings as best as she could and blinked, her eyes focusing on a familiar Bothan sitting with some pale-skinned woman that looked like she was about to pass out, or at least black out. Herrith approached, stumbling slightly before taking the third seat with a hard landing, then spoke in an accent mirroring that of the Zeltrons who had lived on the homeworld their whole life.

"Evenin', loves! Looks like you two are about to fall out of your chairs, I'd feel bad if I weren't in the same position. How's tonight?"

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

She found herself staring hard at the glass of red alcohol, her head gently tipping to the side before a single finger pushed the glass until it almost fell to the floor and smashed. Her eyes grew wide and she instinctively caught it with the Force, her face straining with concentration as the mug wobbled through the air a few centimeters and back on to the table, even as a furry being decided to saunter up to her table. Well, saunter was a nice way to put it, he seemed just as drunk she was. He made a comment about the red stuff, and she just looked back over at the cup blankly, looking very confused. She picked up the cup again and brought it to eye level, her weight shifting from side to side and splashing gently.

Am I... am I... not supposed to drink it?

Shaking her head, she paused. Her thoughts were all fuzzy, and she was really inquisitive all of a sudden. Why was this guy here? Why did he feel comfortable sitting with her when everyone ran away? Why did the Rodian start trying to give somebody glowing tubes, and why did he look more scared of the mercenary than he was of Kathry? That last part stung her a little bit, more than she expected. She was usually the spooky one, and though she didn't always like being the spooky one, it was a little rude of the being to just ignore her. She was scary, too. She almost wanted to go tell him how scary she was, but then she remembered somebody was trying to talk to her.

"It's free, that's why I'm... drinking it... nice place you've got... hmm?

Kriffing my liver, duh. Did you hear about that fraking Rodian? Let me tell you about that fraking Rodian. Ruuudeeeee."

She leaned forward in her chair and nearly laid down on the table before remembering it was a small table. And that might knock over the drinks again. And she should probably not fall asleep here, she didn't trust that bartender, he seemed too nice. She wasn't sure why this guy decided to start talking to her, but at this point Kathry was drunk enough that her filters were gone. The alcohol seemed to make everything more intense, she felt happier, but at the same time more anxious about her scuffle with Levi, more offended by the Rodian. Even more curious as to why anyone would want to talk to her anyways. The question came in her mind just as another Zeltron came up to her. This one was a girl though, and she didn't look out of place among the cantina with the raver gear she had on. Kathry was starting to realize she was the only on in jet black clothing, which might be why the bartender had tried to flirt with her. Oops. She just gave the girl a thumbs up as she tackled the third and final chair. Oof, that looked like it hurt.

"...you'regonnabreakit...."

Her voice slurred into one solid sentence that didn't make much sense as she drank another sip. She had no idea what this stuff was, but it was good, and woooowwwwww did it work. She'd never had this alcohol stuff before, but now she understood why everyone liked it so much, she felt so free and happy and she wanted to go do something. But she didn't want to go do something, she was tired and felt dizzy and wanted to sit. But the music was really nice, but the Bothan was really nice... and this girl was here now, and she was talking and Kathry was trying to listen but having a really hard time. She paused and blinked, shaking her head, before looking back at them both. Her right hand started pointing at Herrith, but fell back to her side after a few seconds.

"Whyyyy did I neverdrinkbefore? Haiii"

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim was REALLY confused now, this woman was obviously very drunk and making very little sense.

Then she dropped the glass and caught it without touching it, the Bothan wasn't quite messed up enough not to notice that and put two and...another number together. Obviously this woman was a force user and going by her outfit Grim could only guess she was an Exile...Sith...whatever the kriffers called themselves these days.

For now he decided he would be cautious, he already bore the white fur patched from one shock if force lightning, he really did not want to feel it again.

"Well that was kriffin' impressive.

That death stick peddlin mongrel? Yeah. Almost shot his balls off the other night. Day? I been here a while."

He was slurrimg slightly as he spoke.

Then, like a bull Nerf came who but Herrith Farking He darsin herself. Dressed like...well a Zeltron. She nearly killed a chair -which the strange dark woman pointed out very slurredly-

"Hey pinky! It's night? Good ta know. I've been here. A...while...lotta whiskey."

He chuckled and took a drink of his whiskey before pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one before offering them around, he had no idea if either of the women smoked but he was being friendly.

@Herrith @TheMorrigan

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Ah, bloody hell...

One drunk...dark-dressing person..? Check. One drunk Bothan...check. On top of that, smoking a cigarra. Brilliant. One tipsy Zeltron that didn't really want to be on her home planet? Wow, bingo. And the fact that the girl had caught a cup midair, without moving a muscle, basically outlined who she was, and that didn't exactly need stating. Force sensitive, was all Herrith was going to try to stereotype her as. And guess who else was Force-sensitive? Wow. She really needed to stop meeting up with people who could use telekinesis and a lot of other very dangerous-and fun-powers better than her.

Hell, she couldn't use hers at all. Not controlled, anyways.

Herrith nodded to the Bothan, Grim. "Uh..huh. I see. Well, I'd say that cutting off the alcohol for a bit might do-you and this lovely lady-some good. Water'll save you around here. Though I wouldn't say that they readily serve it..."

She shot a glance at the bartender before returning her gaze back to the two fellow drunkards (maybe), blinking off the brief dizziness. Kriff, she'd really need to find out what drink that is to knock out a Zeltron with one glass. It was probably lethal to Amarans or something...

Herrith really did hope she could get a break from drinking, she didn't want to end up like Fire Eyes over here..of course Zeltrons in their social mannerisms would probably be here any second and bring down hundreds of liters of drink...which was something she really was not looking forward to...especially with the implications of pheromones, and worse, people who were actually charming. Damn it, why did she ever come back?

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

This pink girl seemed to know the fluffy bothan, and Kathry was confused. But she did like their company for some reason, they didn't treat her like she was some sort of monster or cockroach that needed to be squashed. It's true that she was definitely an absolutely brutal person when it came to fighting and battle, but wasn't everyone? Though she didn't imagine drinking to be this difficult, trying to fight the spinning that the room seemed to be doing. Luckily for her, she was getting frustrated because she couldn't see straight or reply without slurring her words into garbage, and frustration lead to anger. A cold, calm anger that caused her to inhale and then exhale deeply, venting all of the lack of cohesion out for a moment only. It only partially worked, and she still felt out of sorts. But she could talk, and rationally realize drinking any more was a bad idea.

I will drink after I talk for a bit. That is... amazing...

It was also very dangerous. She realized she liked the feeling, which meant it was possible to become something she'd latch on to. Not a good thing, it was obvious this alcohol played her system too far, making her lose concentration. Luckily it didn't look like anybody here wanted to kill her, but if they knew what they were doing and tried right now, she would be in a lot of trouble. Shaking her head, as though to shove those negative thoughts out. She was already venting, letting her rage simmer into a boil and wait to be used. It was different experiencing the Force as she did, as her every thread was filled with such anger, despair and agony. When you feel nothing but a burning rage within your every waking connection to the Force, just barely controllable, then you will truly know the Dark Side. Her eyes snapped and crackled with power for a moment, and she became suddenly more alert. The detoxification was a concentration, it would improve over time.

"We used it normally at home, that was a habit thing. I really shouldn't have done that here, I don't think anyone is around here would be a big fan!"

She almost chocked on her words as the Bothan told her about the rodian, who peddled something called deathsticks, and his pitiful balls nearly being blasted to oblivion at some point within the last 48 hours, give or take. It was a solid guess, the Bothan was almost as drunk as she was and this was her first time drinking.

"...ahh, Zeltros. What a place. How is it you leave here? Oh, I should probably introduce myself. Did I do that yet? No? Okay, hi I'm Kathry. Don't worry, I'm not the stabbing sort.."

Deathsticks? What kind of name is deathsticks? Hey would you like some death with that alcohol? Sounded like something the Nimbus' would say.

She could talk, but she was being way too bubbly and honest. This was not how she usually acted, more quiet and composed, but if she was being honest with herself this youthful side of her seemed a lot more approachable that her usual brooding and silence. This was a behavior reserved for close friend or people she could trust, but she rationalized that these two couldn't harm her reputation in any way, and probably wouldn't have any reason to. Besides, they seemed like smart folk, and smart folk knew not to try to pull a blanket over the eyes of any Sith, let alone a Vahla. Starting to act more and more sober as the conversation continued, it would probably either startle or alarm her the two she sat with. Her eyes would get a little wider, and she raised an eyebrow before purring sarcastically.

"...what? The Force does come with some perks, beyond being hunted to death by light wielding religious maniacs."

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

So that pretty kuch confirmed Grims suspicions of the woman being an Exile, his fur was now shifting imperceptibly. To the eyes of most nothing would have chamged but to a Bothan or anyone who studied wrendui it would be clear that he was uncomfortable.

He opted not to drink anymore for the moment as his head was already spinning, and he wanted to retain some of his wits.

"Well. Some of us have to catch stuff naturally. Though I can see it being useful."

He grumbled a little. He had not ever expected to be drinking with an Exile thats for sure.

He turned to Herrith and held up his glass in a toast to her suggestion before putting it down.

"Yeah. Pretty sure I've been drinking for a few...days. Yeah .Days."

Spoiler: ooc

Sorry for garbage post[/ooc]

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith looked between the two for an imperceptible moment. She'd seen...something change in the room, just not what. It wasn't a happy tone, though. And the woman was entirely wasted, so that left Grim at fault. Though there was no reason that he wouldn't be angry...she basically had lit a red flag that she was an Exile, or a Sith. And she was too drunk to really notice, either. The Zeltron decided to drop her suspicions and immediately returned to normal, ordering another drink for herself, seeing as she had literally just started a few minutes ago.

This one she recognized. A party drink, she used to down this all the time in her days back on the planet as a clueless woman with no idea what went on in the greater galaxy. It had a light kick...for Zeltrons, at least. Unless, of course, the desire for stronger cocktails had resulted in the mix getting changed, which was just as likely. She also made a note to go grab some water from a faucet, sooner or later, for the poor girl who was going to wake up with a Wookiee-sized headache.

"A few days? I..yeah, it's reasonable, you lose track of time around here. Just don't lose track too much, that's the key..."

Herrith personally had no quarrels with Exiles. They were a lot like her in a sense, rejected by their own people for having a different viewpoint. Some she even considered friends. But others...they were killers, by and through. Evil.

Then again, wasn't she?

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

That she wouldn't notice was a thought of the utmost foolishness. She was not only Sith, but Vahla first and foremost. A naturally proud warrior race, known for their affinity to the Darkness. Persecuted by a Galaxy that could not care less, bereft of a home the Republic took credit for destroying, and hunted by the Jedi to near extinction for their beliefs. To say that she was evil would be wrong, but to say that she was in a state of constant ferocity would be correct. Her entire life up to this point had been nothing but manipulation, pain, death and warfare. So, she had become Sith, because the Sith were the closest thing she had left to family. No matter how twisted the logic sound, the Embers and the Empire had a lot in common, and the Empress was the closest thing in the Galaxy to Vahl. What other path was there?

If you intend to attack, now is your best chance. You'll never get another.

"I can sense your hesitation. Your guilt. Your anger. It deepens your will, solidifies your concentration and has kept you alert. Even now, you experience the truth I live every day. I made a promise to the darkness and myself. To the Empire and it's people, and to my own. Does that make me twisted and evil, like everyone says I am?

...do you believe I am a monster to be put down?"

She was genuinely asking, in an uncharacteristic show of humanity. Kathry was not welcomed, not even by many in the Sith, the Vahla were never trusted. And she did not trust anyone, though she dearly wanted to confide in her allies. She'd heard from even those she tried to help, to show the path to their truest self, that she was nothing short of a creature of horror. She was not cruel, she didn't torture or prolong death. By her hand it was swift and graceful, like everything should be, and each foe died with their dignity intact. Most, at least, those that had harmed her family tended to be the grandest exception to that rule. Her family, her allies, and those she considered close were protected without exception, those who break that protection would pay in ways hitherto unfathomable. She took another drink, this one a rather large gulp, not wanting to sit sober in this situation. She didn't want to black out or lose control of her emotions right now, but she also didn't want to turn a pleasant conversation sour.

"...If so, now is the best chance you'll ever have."

If it came down to it, his hatred may be seeded deep, but that was something she could work with, something she understood. But she'd never been an Exile of the Jedi, because she'd never been Jedi, she was amongst the newest generation of Sith. She took another sip, again, while maintaining her concentration. She was essentially drinking to keep herself just barely not sober, enough to endure through the social situations without losing it. She was a straightforward person, and if she had an issue she made it known. The whole not stating a problem when it's as obvious as the sun above thing didn't play well in her mind. Many, many Sith did this, and it annoyed her to no end, and here it was happening again. The last thing she needed was her eyes to glow like candlesticks around alcohol, her and flames mixed well when sober but terribly when drunk.

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim chuckled a bit, Herrith was right. Losing track was fine now and then but one had to be careful how far into the bottle they crawled.

Then the Sith woman spoke and he was taken aback, he had only ever thought of the group as the psychotic monsters that he had fought so long ago.

"I aint got issue with you, just get a little twitchy around Exiles. Sith. Whatever you wanna call it. One of yours gave me the white streaks with that damned lightning."

Grim wasn't often this open with anyone that could hurt him like that, but Herrith would likely back him up if anything happened.

He took another long drink and ordered a refill. Now he wanted to be more drunk.

@Herrith @TheMorrigan

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith calmly leaned back in her seat, the haze of alcohol starting to clear up as she felt the tension build between Grim and their drunken Sith friend. The dialogue didn't help. She considered sinking a hand to a knife, but felt against it. The only way this was going to get resolved was if they all got real friendly real quick. Her smile faded for a moment, and she cleared her throat as she took a sip of her drink, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. At least the party mood was balancing out all the negativity emanating from these two. She wouldn't hurl all over the table, which was both good and bad.

"Alright, you two...let's just keep this to fun times, private apartments, and drinks, 'kay? I'd like to not get kicked off Zeltros again."

To be honest, she'd rather be far away from here, but a point had to be made. This was a time for fun, and spoiling a planet of Zeltrons' fun was the last thing the Sith and Bothan wanted to even think of doing.

Speaking from experience.

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

This is not me being threatening... I guess they'd best hope they never see me in battle, then...

Though he may have spoken the words, she could still sense his unease. Kathry tried to simply ignore it for the time being, she was used to this sort of treatment by now. It was useful sometimes, but mostly is just served to remind her that being Sith was a brand that most denizens of the Galaxy were bound to fear. Her eyes sparked slightly as the Bothan looked at her with an aura of surprise, as though he'd expected her to growl and crawl on all fours. Exiles and Sith were a different breed, clearly, if this was how he expected them to behave. No member of the Sith Order would lower themselves to such animosity, at least none would dare to do so in her presence. She did not want a fight, nor would Kathry have contested if he had decided to draw his blaster and attempt to kill her. Neither would have succeeded.

"The Lightning? Yes, I'm quite aware of how painful that can be."

It is nothing compared to the fire.

Her left hand gently grazed over her covered sleeve. Like most, if not all Vahla, she was scarred across her arms from various burns and wounds. Be it from practicing Pyromancy herself, or having been taught a lesson by her mother's instructors. Kathry possessed a small but spiderlike scar from the utilization of Force Lightning that went down her own back, but it had mostly been healed before it caused any lasting damage. If the Bothan had faced an Exile and somehow survived, that was impressive. And indeed, that should be the focus, not what was left behind as an aftermath. Battle-scars are natural parts of life, even she at this young age possessed many, and in her mind he should wear it with pride. Of course, she also understood how this cast her in his mind, but she was neither concerned nor apologetic. She would not be ashamed of her status based on the actions of another. Her eyes calmed slightly and she gave a weak smile.

"That scar is a warning, show it off. I doubt they'd consider attacking you, knowing you survived an attack like that. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

She shrugged, and took a gentle sip again. She was beginning to get the hang of this whole alcohol thing, having learned better than to start gulping. Kathry was hardly lying, she didn't have half the gear necessary to start battling anyone beyond her lightsaber. While it was a useful tool, that's all it was, without armor or additional weapons she would not be nearly as efficient as she was when fully equipped. Not to mention her goal of relaxing and calming the night away was still very much a priority... unfortunately her social skills left much to be desired and she had absolutely no idea how to defuse the awkwardness that was building. Maybe the compliment would help, but at this point she had very little idea.

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim's attempt to get so drunk he could get past the fact that he was drinking with a sith actually worked.

Probably partly due to the woman's words of encouragement.

"Weeeeeel yasee. Most flolks tend to tthhhhhhink. That I'm jes' old."

He laughed drunkenly and took a big swig of his freshly arriving beverage.

"Immmm Grimmememem. Grinimien. Kriff. Grim. Grim is my name.

He looked at Herrith and chuckled a little, not really intentionally just because he was seventeen thousand sheets to the wind at this point.

"How'd you mnage to git kicked off a planet?"

@Herrith @TheMorrigan

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith felt the very present tension of social awkwardness from the Sith, and she did her best to ignore it. No surprise that they were a bit under-prepared for social interaction, as far as she knew their skills consisted of killing, torturing, and...killing. Yeah, that sounded about right. She scoffed away her crazy thoughts and downed the remainder of her whiskey, almost choking on the drink as Grim took notice of her mutterings. She really hated strong drinks, sometimes.

"Well...I kind of got framed for a murder, and murder is bad around here, so...it was the death penalty or...a slightly slower death penalty. And here I am, so.."

Yeah, that was pretty much what it was. Right?

She decided to add one more thing.
"Name's Herrith. I'd like to think I'm not from around here."

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

She nearly rose from her seat. It might not have occurred to either of them, but she was both empathetic and able to sense intent and hostility through the Force. It was pretty clearly evident what the Galaxy saw the Sith to be. And she, in good conscious, couldn't exactly argue it, but neither did she feel interested in sitting through the distaste. She took a long and gentle sip, smiling as the warm buzz began to fill her with energy again. She felt another thing with her senses, a faint whisper of energy from the Zeltron girl who introduced herself as Herrith. She gently smiled and laughed as the Bothan introduced himself, before making a convenient yet unwelcome connection. His name was shortened to Grim. Her primary weapon's name was pronounced as Grim Sever. It seemed the Force had a sense of humor putting them together.

"Well.. it's nice to meet you, Grimmememem. Not from around here?-"

She gave the woman a once over, raised and eyebrow and smiled softly. She understood what Herrith was attempting to convey. Kathry knew enough about being demonized to recognize not wanting to associate with anyone of that subject. Even if it was your own home planet, but that did open yet another question in the Vahla's mind. She had heard this woman's name before, mainly associated with a hijinks of some grandeur. What came as a surprise to her was how powerful her aura felt, if not completely untrained. A wonder the Jedi hadn't taken to demanding her entry yet, if their actions towards her were any indication. Though, to their credit, she had attacked one of their own the day before so I was semi-logical that they would not be altogether pleased to see her.

"This... this place makes me feel weird."

She gently looked back over at Grim and saw that he was completely out of it, almost as deep in the bottle as she had been mere moments before. Part of her was tempted to start laughing, she didn't think the Bothan realized how hilarious he was right now. She didn't want to appear to be mocking him however, so she just took to a giggle. Upon realizing that her drink was empty, she waved down for a bartender by gently humming at a high note. Of course, the male bartender that had served her earlier approached and handed her yet another drink, resting uncomfortably close to the Vahla before asking whether the alcohol had been enough. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she turned to him with a look of pure annoyance arraying her features, before smiling softly. For a moment, it seemed she actually liked him, but then she smiled and exhaled a gentle stream of sparks that passed just inches from the boy's nose, causing him to recoil and return to his bar. Kathry gently chuckled as he ran, perhaps at this point he'd get the message.

Works every time.

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim drank literally his whole drink in two seconds, gesturing for another two with one hand as he deftly snuck and downed a drink off a tray that was headed by.

"I...iI...i het that."

He kind of blubbed a little.

"So, what brimgs a big ol' spoopy fire-person to the *hic* drinkin capishul..vapital...kriff...*hic* capital of the galaxverse?"

He snickered at his own drunken misspeaks.

Then turned to Herrith

"Tha...that shucks. How comeyou didddnt. Fight...it?"

He was slowly losing steam, he had heard of a drink that would get a bantha drunk while also making you so hyper a spicehead would look sane but he didn't know what it was called and was too embarrassed to ask anyone.

@Herrith @TheMorrigan

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Okay, maybe it was time for the two, or three, of them to dial it down a bit on the drinks. She nodded, losing her sense of balance briefly before regaining it. The movement resulting from this looked a bit ridiculous with Herrith sitting down and whatnot, but whatever the hell she had just drank was potent. Very, very potent. The three of them were essentially hammered, and the Zeltron wasn't exactly sure how she felt about that. A smile grew slightly at Grim and the Sith's drunken ramblings. A few drinks down the line, she might have been in the same position of them

Best to stop while she could still walk and had a chance of not waking up in someone else's apartment. A long look at the Sith as she played with fire and spooked the bartender was followed by a shrug at Grim's next few lines. To be fair, she could have fought. In the present day, that is. Back then, she had no sense of authority, no feeling of being able to stand up for herself. It was death or life, and she had chosen the latter. Here she was now.

"Cause I was a young, inexperienced and innocent keetar freg that didn't know her left from her right in the greater galaxy. Plus, screw this place."

That made sense, right? She slid her drink toward the center of the table, ignoring any stares she might have gotten. This Sith woman was in deep trouble if she kept using her powers.

Drunk or not, Zeltrons were "mandated reporters". Kriffing hell.

 

[Kathry Van Alasdaire]

Goof.

Kathry's head was shaking gently as the Bothan continued to talk through his drunken stupor. She started giggling harder as his words turned bubbly and altogether ridiculous. It was pretty clear this stuff hit like a bantha herd, and Grimmememem was totally and completely out of it. The sorceress, however, had quickly realized she could keep this up for as long as her force reserves would allow. That was likely the funniest part to her, that her mother's harsh training turned out to be so useful for drinking; a pastime neither parents would have approved of. Her smile widened and became slightly less deranged as he grabbed a second drink. Despite herself, the Sith was starting to enjoy the company of others, unlike her usual secular nature. Once again, another first this week... she was having fun. That was a new concept to her. Fun. She thought on the Bothan's question, and realized the answer was pretty straightforward.

"This... this is my first time drinking. I'm having a lot of firsts this week. What brings a man such as yourself?

...Oh. Why didn't you just settle it with a challenge?"

Kathry wouldn't realize that challenges to the death over disputes were not commonplace in the Galaxy. On her home planet, murder was an absolutely atrocious charge, but as the law states the accuser must be wary of the accused. The accused had the right to challenge the accuser to a duel, under the logic that the Goddess would judge their souls and the survivor spoke true. There had been many instances of this in her childhood. Her father had in fact participated in a few duels himself, on either side of the spectrum, but emerged victorious. Surely, with this woman's strength in the Force, she could have easily defeated her accusers and walked freely. But perhaps this Herrith did not enjoy violence and bloodshed, or perhaps... perhaps it was exactly as the girl had come to explain. She did not have the experience at the time, it was a fight or flight moment. And she had chosen flight.

"Well, now you know. Don't let people push you around, I made that mistake once. They never stop. Give an inch, they take a mile, it's just the way the Galaxy is."

The Vahla began to notice the stares she was getting from across the bar, and was tempted to flair her eyes with power to have them avert their gaze. Force-users weren't uncommon in this part of the Galaxy, and anybody that was stupid enough to demand she cease using part of her life energy would witness it's true potential. She was not here for conflict, nor was she here to entertain the bedding of some pink-skinned punk who believed drink mixing skills could woo her. Kathry was here to enjoy herself as she saw fit, and she would do so, without further interruption from the cocky little charlatan. Say what you wish about the girl, she had harsh standards, and they were far above his ilk. She was not interested in that business, not presently, not while there was another with which to attend. Besides, with the allies she possessed, only a fool or an ignoramus would dare to attack her openly, or attempt to apply superior authority over a being known for breaking chains. And those who forged them.

"Have you ever considered honing those abilities of yours, Herrith?"

@Herrith @One For Sorrow

 

[Grimem Va'telarum]

Grim laughed a little harder than he should have before drinking some more, at this point what little of his mind could form a coherent thought was focussed solely on the fact that in the morning he was going to feel like a herd of Bantha had stampeded over his head. The obvious solution? Don't stop drinking.

"You know Kathyryryry. *AHEM* Kathry. You ain't half bad for an Exile....well, i suppose you're technically ALL bad by definition. Buuuuuut I mean, job's a job right. Youre cool by me."

He finished off his drink, he was so drunk at this point that he had forgotten what he was drinking. So through a convoluted series of gestures he indicated to one of the waitstaff that he wanted whatever Kathry was having.

"Plus, you have that neat fire thingy."

Once his drink arrived he had a few gulps, it was good stuff....whatever it was.

"What abilities? You have abilities? I want abilities!"

@Herrith @TheMorrigan