Aaron Vilnaldi
Dec 12th, 2002, 10:30:22 PM
The streets were fairly calm this night. He'd seen rougher, and he was pretty thankful that they weren't wild. He had chosen to walk, it being such a calm and cool night. Just his type. His feet were tired from a fairly long day at the office, and it was time to unwind. He knew just the place.
Standing before the Hot Wire club in the upper streets of Coruscant, he popped his neck before entering. His head was tired from sitting at a desk for the better part of his day--sadly, the action had been paperwork. He needed some good human interaction, a chance to relax and watch the crowds. This was his chance.
It was an hour or two past midnight, and the club was still packed. He could stay here for a while--he wasn't much of a sleeper. Two or three hours were sufficient to sustain him for several days. It may not have been the most healthy choice in the world, and he often found himself trying to separate dreams from reality. With in insomnia, you didn't have much of a choice. Lying in bed trying to sleep was about as painful as staying awake.
He payed the cover fee--out of a fat pocketful of credits--and made his way to the bar. Loosening his tie, he leaned his back against the tall, black-finished bar and examined the scene. Young, horny teenagers. Young, horny adults. Old, horny married men. The crowd was quite diverse tonight, which was good. He was somewhat of a sociology buff, and he liked to watch the behavior of others.
"Tender--I'll take a Jack and cola," he spoke over his shoulder to the man. As he could hear the tender's feet work away, he let his jacket open. It was kind of hot in the club tonight.
"Thanks," he took the drink and drank a long draw from the chilled glass. It tasted good--the familiar sting of the whiskey tingling his throat. He wondered what this night held, hoping there would be someone interesting in this place.
Standing before the Hot Wire club in the upper streets of Coruscant, he popped his neck before entering. His head was tired from sitting at a desk for the better part of his day--sadly, the action had been paperwork. He needed some good human interaction, a chance to relax and watch the crowds. This was his chance.
It was an hour or two past midnight, and the club was still packed. He could stay here for a while--he wasn't much of a sleeper. Two or three hours were sufficient to sustain him for several days. It may not have been the most healthy choice in the world, and he often found himself trying to separate dreams from reality. With in insomnia, you didn't have much of a choice. Lying in bed trying to sleep was about as painful as staying awake.
He payed the cover fee--out of a fat pocketful of credits--and made his way to the bar. Loosening his tie, he leaned his back against the tall, black-finished bar and examined the scene. Young, horny teenagers. Young, horny adults. Old, horny married men. The crowd was quite diverse tonight, which was good. He was somewhat of a sociology buff, and he liked to watch the behavior of others.
"Tender--I'll take a Jack and cola," he spoke over his shoulder to the man. As he could hear the tender's feet work away, he let his jacket open. It was kind of hot in the club tonight.
"Thanks," he took the drink and drank a long draw from the chilled glass. It tasted good--the familiar sting of the whiskey tingling his throat. He wondered what this night held, hoping there would be someone interesting in this place.