A stranger's conversation (Open.)

[Sincere]

The man in black pulled his over coat around himself tighter in an effort to shield from the pouring rain outside. A sign of an old bar and casino blinked in the night life of Courcant, the planet that never sleeps.

He sat at the bar, blending in with the tons of other patrons that lined the establishment. Twin blaster pistols sat snug in thier holsters, strapped to his sides. The dim lights of the bar revealed a thin bald man. Known to only a few as 'Sin', the man ordered a beer and shook some rain from his clothes. Friends and enemies alike would speak of him in hushed tones of respect as his killing skills became legend, but few had even heard his name, which was a testiment to his skill. He lit up a smoke and relaxed into his chair, rolling it between his fingers. He could use a good conversation, although he was still followed by a dark shadow that affected his demeanor.

[Imide]

The bar was crowded, loud and smoky. A dim haze surrounded everything, penetrating, disguising and deceiving the eyes of the watchful. The newcomer’s habit added to this, although not visibly at first. It would be a while longer, but the grey clouds hanging about would grow, and thus further mask his identity.

Perhaps it was intentional, perhaps not. It could be that he was trying to avoid something... or someone, by coming here.

There was any number of perfectly logical reasons.

Or maybe you’re just slipping back into an over-analysing state of paranoia.

Imide laughed slightly at his own joke, before sitting back in his chair and tearing his dull green eyes away from the stranger’s back.

He was sitting in the corner, back to the wall. A shady, out of the way booth had been his first preference, but finding something out of the way in this place would be a challenge worthy of the Jedi. Still, he had moved as far from the action as he could, and kept one watchful eye carefully trained on the door.

Old habits die hard, they say. This, certainly, was true.

Imide leaned forward after a moment more of sitting, gazing out at nothing in particular but taking in everything. He moved around a bit, then settled back into the warm foam. Underneath the table, he stretched his legs.

Looking back at the bar...

Still there...

A moment’s deliberation, and Imide rose. Making his way slowly toward the bar, not for lack of determination, but for presence of people, Imide spotted an empty stool, and sat down.

Looking back over his shoulder, he could see a pair already taking up positions in his old seat. Drawing eyes back across the room, he heard the door behind him clatter closed, as another went home for the night.

Behind... Oh well, always time to break a habit.

Especially one born of a necessity that no longer existed.

He turned, and ordered a drink.

[Sincere]

"Can you believe this weather?" Chase shook more rain from his overcoat.

Sin directed the comment to the man that now joined him at the bar. He continued to look forward, stopping momentarly to take a drink of his newly arrived beer.

[Imide]

Imide sipped at his beer quietly for a moment, casually ignoring the comment. He put the glass down, and turned his head to the side, facing Sincere. The other simply stared ahead still, patiently awaiting whatever answer would come, be it likeable or none at all. Moving the coaster toward him a few centimetres absentmindedly, Imide looked down and then back forward, before grunting what could have been an affirmative, but had the potential to have just the opposite effect.

The pair was silent for a few more seconds, before curiosity overtook Imide, and he turned to face Sincere once more. Resting one arm on the bar top, he leaned his head on his shoulder.

“So what are you doing here, stranger? Sheltering from the rain?”

His voice was quizzical, but not overly intrusive. Just prying for an answer, and ready to let it drop at any moment, if offence was taken.


OOC: I’m assuming Chase = Sincere. Please correct me if this is wrong.