Xel-Naga
Jul 5th, 2006, 02:38:20 PM
Corellia was a decent planet to live on if you didn't mind the hairy little critters like the Selonians and the Drall that inhabited it and several of the other planets in the Corellia sector. The little hairy abominations had a way of getting in the way and annoying the other species on the planet, but if you had a good attitude and a willingness to overlook the furry aliens faults then you could live quite happily on Corellia. It was a pity that the man known as Xel-Naga lacked those social graces.
The Drall known as Qui'kwa cried out as he was shoved head first into the trashcan. The lid was replaced over the top and the sound of retreating footsteps was all he could hear over the beating of his own heart and the throbbing of his head. He and his friends had just been walking down the street and into an alley when they bumped into a dark haired, gray eyed man. They apologized and then the man attacked them. He had kicked Juju in the face, smacked Qui'kwa aside, and then did those horrible thing to Bela before either Qui'kwa or Juju could get back up. Then he had punched Juju repeatedly in the face and stomach and stuffed Qui'kwa in this dumpster. Could this day get any worse? Qui'kwa wondered.
Could this day get any better? Xel-Naga thought sarcastically as he walked down the street nursing the bite mark on his arm. The little furballs teeth had penetrated his leather coat sleeve and the cloth of his shirt. The little bugger had nibbled a chunk out of his flesh before he had the opportunity to knock it off. Dang, it burned like hellfire. He continued on down the street and only stopped once to punch a ryshcate street seller who had made the unfortunate decision to try and sell one of the pastries to Xel.
Finally Xel reached his destination. The Hapan Princess Tavern's neon sign glowed brightly in the dim early morning light. Xel pushed his way through the front door and handed his heavy blaster pistol off to the bouncer just inside the door, "Good day sir," The bouncer said, his voice was like a cliff and an iceburg rubbing together. Xel assumed the bouncer was human, because rancors didn't grow mohawks and pierce ever feature of their face.
He moved inside and ignored the many "Good day sir," that came his way from the waitresses, bust boys, and the bartender. Just because Xel was one of the three people that owned the Hapan Princess did not give them a reason to call him sir all the time. The only thing that stopped him from punching their faces in was the fact that that action would lose him his ownership of the Tavern and then he wouldn't get free beer anymore.
"Corellian ale," Xel said as he ordered his favorite drink and took a seat at the corner table reserved for the owners and more valued patrons, "And do we carry any of those ryshcate pastries?"
The Drall known as Qui'kwa cried out as he was shoved head first into the trashcan. The lid was replaced over the top and the sound of retreating footsteps was all he could hear over the beating of his own heart and the throbbing of his head. He and his friends had just been walking down the street and into an alley when they bumped into a dark haired, gray eyed man. They apologized and then the man attacked them. He had kicked Juju in the face, smacked Qui'kwa aside, and then did those horrible thing to Bela before either Qui'kwa or Juju could get back up. Then he had punched Juju repeatedly in the face and stomach and stuffed Qui'kwa in this dumpster. Could this day get any worse? Qui'kwa wondered.
Could this day get any better? Xel-Naga thought sarcastically as he walked down the street nursing the bite mark on his arm. The little furballs teeth had penetrated his leather coat sleeve and the cloth of his shirt. The little bugger had nibbled a chunk out of his flesh before he had the opportunity to knock it off. Dang, it burned like hellfire. He continued on down the street and only stopped once to punch a ryshcate street seller who had made the unfortunate decision to try and sell one of the pastries to Xel.
Finally Xel reached his destination. The Hapan Princess Tavern's neon sign glowed brightly in the dim early morning light. Xel pushed his way through the front door and handed his heavy blaster pistol off to the bouncer just inside the door, "Good day sir," The bouncer said, his voice was like a cliff and an iceburg rubbing together. Xel assumed the bouncer was human, because rancors didn't grow mohawks and pierce ever feature of their face.
He moved inside and ignored the many "Good day sir," that came his way from the waitresses, bust boys, and the bartender. Just because Xel was one of the three people that owned the Hapan Princess did not give them a reason to call him sir all the time. The only thing that stopped him from punching their faces in was the fact that that action would lose him his ownership of the Tavern and then he wouldn't get free beer anymore.
"Corellian ale," Xel said as he ordered his favorite drink and took a seat at the corner table reserved for the owners and more valued patrons, "And do we carry any of those ryshcate pastries?"