Speaking of Which

[Anj]

For years he had lived in the perils of war, and now there was peace. Not everywhere in the galaxy, but here at The Wheel he was at ease. Not much could get better. But only if folks wouldn't get their hands stuck in his hair every time they found the need to run their hands through it - all would be perfect. At least, almost perfect; Anj sat there in front of the mirror. A life time had been spent with the rogues. The galaxy considered him an standard adult. Just a week ago he turned 18. Still, he felt much older. Even under the smile, exuberance, he had saw too much. Those narrow of eyes of his staring back him pierced through it all.

It was like he could remember everything at once. There was no shock, though. He only blinked, very slowly, very methodically, very sadly. Mist crowded the refresher. Moments before he had got out the shower and dressed. The day was ahead of him, but he hadn't the slightest idea what it held.

And that was ok.

He ran his hand along the misty reflection. Then smudged it with his hands. He grinned. In a twist about, he shook his wet hair and slipped out to his quarters, and out to the halls. The bustle of workers, crew-men and the others could be heard and seen. So much was always going on. Hard to even imagine how Anj got sleep. If it wasn't for his handy-dandy earphones, he'd be in trouble.

The 18 year old plugged them in. Anj blocked out the world, and listen to his newest, favorite band. Good stuff. Then headed to the lift, it was crowded. There he'd stare up at the ceiling, waiting for his floor with the rest. Chats about the newest shipments went on behind him, and the latest rumors, but he couldn't hear.

He had his music: Jitz-Ju.

He had his destination: the lounge.

And he had his spirits: high.

[Anj]

The Valiant was filled with all sorts of face. Rebels welcomed all. Aliens with tendrils, slime, fresh fragrances, and of all kind occupied the lounge. Each couch was occupied. The song playing was out of his hand. As he stood there at the lift's door in marvel.

Somehow he made it through that awkward ride up. Somebody behind him thought it good to sneeze on his shoulder. Another thought it best to joke about his friend's diarrhea incident when making out. Not his best journey.

Anj walked over to grab up a drink. It would be his first. So far, he hadn't really celebrated his age. No time, which was ironic. There at the stool, leaned over, he allowed himself a smile. The smile wasn't naive, though. He knew what he wanted.

This would be his first legal drink.

"A desert bloom, please?" A few eyes shot his way. Older eyes - folk that knew about it. And they also saw him. That baby face had no place meddling with something so raw. Laughs followed, but he just kept smiling.

"Your going to kill yourself, boy."

"Whateva y'say, pops." Anj did not even turning his eyes. Anj focused on the glass, the ice, and the concotion being mixed. And that smile was fixed. With a grip, a blink, he lifted it for a silent toast...

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Eh?"

Cirr's concentration broke, and he looked up to the new face sitting adjacent from him. He looked back at the datapad to try and find his place, but he'd been sufficiently distracted. It didn't matter, he'd gotten three chapters of applied sublight shearing diagnostics in. This was pretty much hobby work. He couldn't read this sort of thing on Layla, lest he get seriously distracted and try to tinker something every three sentences.

"What's that therre?"

Cirr gestured at the drink the kid had called up for himself. Desert bloom? Of course you could spend a day one very planet your entire life and not reach them all, much less try each drink. It didn't surprise him that he might not know one, but it apparently had a reputation.

He shut off his pad and pushed it to the opposite side of the bar. Finishing his whisky, he eyed the kid's glass, and glanced at the bardender with the look of I'll have what he's having. It was understood.

[Anj]

"Ooo...dis 'ere?"

Anj stared at the glass for a second more. Then twisted his wrist about, examining the dark drink from different angles, only to find it the same - dark. A cunning smile rolled on his lips. He turned his head to the end of the bar and nodded. The Cizerak was big and bold. Real bold if he didn't twice about gulping down something that sounded so off-putting. Already, Anj respected the guy.

"Well it aint nothin' nice - no'suh - aint nothin nice..."

His voice drowned off as he looked down into the glass again. Doubt started to come in. Proudly, he ignored it, against his better judgement, and knocked his head back. The glass went up. And the Desert Bloom - it went down.

All the way down into his belly. First it had to stop at his throat though. And oh did it. The burn sizzled, singed, then tore away at his chest. Anj balled up a fist and beat at his pecs like a Mantellian Savrip. But this was no mating call. It was pain.

A man's pain. He had to fight back the tears that were forming. With a strained, weakened, hoarse voice, he made his proclaimation: "Dats d'good stuff." The bartender just laughed.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr looked at his own drink that soon appeared in front of him. Dark, and...he sniffed, his ears switching back a bit...pungent.

With a look of focus, he put one hand palm-side down on the counter, and took the drink in his other hand.

"Haa' meetha ai" He toasted himself and the kid in his mother tongue. "What doesn't kjill you..."

He tilted the drink back slowly, eventually emptying its contents in a fluid motion as he swallowed. His jawline tensed, and he very carefully eased the glass back down, sucking on his lower lip to keep from salivating as the drink hit the pit of his stomach like a concussion missile.

He exhaled, and licked his lips. It went down like murder, like the kid said, but Cirr was a nearly impervious iron stomach. Still, it almost took his breath away.

"Tastes ljike coolant tank hooch mjixed wjith swamp waterr and a spjice rrack."

He looked to the human, a strange expression on his face.

"Some forrm of self punjishment?"

[Anj]

Coughs splashed right out his mouth. Spit, slime, and bundle of pain was the content. Painful. So, painful. Cirr was right. In that strange voice of his, he was exactly right. Humans sure had an unusual way of celebrate. However, most cultures agreed on the importance of a drink. Whether it be self-punishment or not, a good sip of wine or something stronger took off the edge. It allowed Anj to laugh at his own pain.

"Yea," he started, slamming the glass down. After clearing his throat, eyes squeezing on any tears that might want to come out, he chuckled some more and gander down the way at Cirr.

"Suprirse y'even tried such a thang. But Im guess'n ya da darin' type?"

He laughed some more. Anj threw his hand in air. The bartender drifted back over. In a low voice, the bartender asked if he wanted some more, but there was a sure shake of the head. Anj didn't want any more of that pain. He rather a cool, brisky "Corellian Ale" to wash it down.

"Way mo' darin' than me..."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Darrjing type? Hehehe..."

Cirr gestured to the barkeep that the kid's idea of a Corellian Ale was infectious, and he too wanted one.

"Well, jI'm out herre on the Wheel, arren't jI? jI thjink jif jI wasn't a ljittle crrazy ljike that jI could've just stayed home."

[Anj]

One of those natural smiles perked up on Anj's lips. The man almost made him laugh. It was very true. The Wheel wasn't the most ideal place in the galaxy. It wasn't Spira. And it wasn't Coronet.

See, Anj had seen a decent amount of the galaxy. The Alliance was always on the move. He had to stay on his toes. So, over time that could make a boy a bit on edge or...cunning. There was a bit of both in those brown eyes of his as he looked down in the glass and spoke up.

"Yaa, none of us 'ere gotta lick o' sense meddlin wit this Jedi bidness." He took a smile, gulped, then smiled.

"But where else would'ya git dis kinda care?" Anj smirked and lifted his glass. "To crazy folk?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Maybe some kjind of crrazy, yeah."

Cirr conceded. Even on some days, Lok's ways and reasoning confounded him into pure confusion, let alone any other Jedi. It was a calling he fortunately wasn't quite up for. His time with Loki had only reinforced that. Interesting, but never truly capable of being understood."

Cirr clinked his glass to the kid's own, and took down his beer by half in a couple of full quaffs.

"Hell of an jintrroductjion."

He set his beer aside, extending a large oustretched paw.

"jI'm Cirr."

He could feel eyes drifting down to his nametag, complete with rank as well as his full name, which he didn't suffer upon forrda if possible.

"Just Cirr.

Haven't seen you arround much. Wherre arre you statjioned?"

[Anj]

The kid took his sip. Then sucked at his teeth. Anj had to savour the taste. Months had passed since he had a Corellian ale...Or any drink for that matter. Somewhere in the back of his mind he started to realize that. His mother would call it good sense, but most simply put such realizations under "conscience". Yet, like a lot of troubles, he chuckled it away and continued on with the conversation.

"Anj-Jussuh Anj." Even though a bit of a slurr was starting to smear his words together, he kept focused...Or as focused as he could be.

"But uuh---I'm erry'where - errywhere. But Missy Navaria, that o' pretty lady who look like that Empress bi--" He stopped short. Laughed.

Anj noted a couple prissy Twi'leks at the end of the bar. Somehow, amid the drinks, amid the chatter, he remembered his manners. Explicit language with the ladies wasn't a gentlemen's behavior. "--Lady, she say its best I stay on da Valiant.

I get d'feelin she jus' like keepin me in her eye." He grinned to himself as he looked into the cup, before taking another sip.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Well, that didn't much answer anything.

"jI mean, what do you do herre. Jedji underrstudy orr the ljike?"

Kid didn't quite seem to be the Jedi sort, but then again, it was hard to tell.

[Anj]

"A lil' bitta dis, a lil bitta dat."

He smirked. "But if ya thinkin im one o' dose idiots wavin' a wand 'round..." Anj leaned back, his smirk gone. For a second he lingered, took a sip of his drink and looked back at Cirr.

"Ya right."