Bacardi & Cola (Open)

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Hey, who moved the brush an' dren scooper? I got a bantha steak suprise on ma floor to clean up. Well? Ya lousy bums!" Loki wailed angrily over the din of the busy kitchen; a waiter flicked his finished cigarette at him, another carrying two trays nudged him roughly aside while the head chef told him to put the brush somewhere where he would always be able to find it - but his suggestion didn't sound too hygenic; so wiping the cuff of his greasy shirt against his face, shimmering with sweat, Loki stormed out.

"Try these 'til you find what ya lookin' for, short stop." Grunted the bartender, a brown furred mongoose, just about dressed enough to fit the role of someone eligable to serve drinks. Loki snatched the brush and dust scooper from the Nehantite's paws, clearly unamused at his sarcasm and upon turning away recieved a clout across his head for his trouble. That was about the height of thanks one could expect to recieve here at The Kingpin, it was a bustling bar filled with customers who were overweight and undereducated and employess who were overworked and underpayed but that was how everyone gets by in the Coruscant Midcity; with plenty of attitude and little money. And for this Jedi Padawan, the change was a welcome break from normality.

[Sejah Haversh]

It had certainly been an interesting week for Sejah. First, after he was put on probation at the Order, he was allowed some time away to settle down, and hide while his ordeal would hopefully blow over.

Loki had been chosen to go with him, and to keep tabs on the Nehantite while he was adjusting to a "normal" life. The pair shared a small apartment on the sub-level, and found jobs at a local bar--The Kingpin. It was a bit more crass than Sejah would have liked for Loki, but the boy seemed to love it, so he didn't complain too much. Sejah sold the owner on his skill as a bartender by performing some elaborate drink-pouring tips, and because of his uncommon looks as well.

The Kingpin was straight out of a pulp movie nightmare. Garish red and black color scheme, vinyl seats, buzzing neon sign with one letter constantly flickering out at any given time. Inside, the bar was dark and smoky, and a good quarter of the light bulbs were burnt out. It was noisy, dirty and generally a dive of an old bar under it's fifteenth manager. Wednesday and Saturday nights there was a cabaret of sorts on the bar's stage, and other nights of the week there were local bands, stand-up comics, or the occasional female dancer.

But for now, in the late afternoon, the bar was only filled with patrons, all busy chatting, yelling or growling at each other, and Sejah was keeping their glasses full while Loki carried out food and cleaned off tables. "Loki!" Sejah called from the bar, holding up a tray, "Drinks, table six!"

It felt good to be working for a living again, and not mooching off of the Order. Even if it meant living in a crummy studio apartment with only a partial kitchen and neighbors who were up all hours of the night doing things that Sejah didn't even want to imagine from the noises. But yes, as he poured a double scotch he rememberd just how good it felt to work.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Yeah, yeah - keep ya fur on!" Replied Loki with as heavy an accent he could manage, throwing a dirty kitchen towel over his shoulder after he'd parked the brush in the place it was meant to be kept. As efficient a worker he was, Loki couldn't help but spend some time eaves-dropping on some of the conversations of the more interesting patrons; they had gamblers, smugglers and even bounty hunters, all small time of course; but the most intriguing of the lot was the man at Table Six. Sejah was aware of how curious his friend was about the skinny, sallow-faced gentlemen who perpetually shrouded himself in a cloud of thick cigar smoke. Rumour had it that he was a reputable con artist who in order to keep a low profile, relied on youngsters to conduct his business and rob families of their hard-earned cash. But Loki believed there was something much more sinister afoot.

"Try not to be all day about it, eh?" Sejah grunted once more in that voice he loved to indulge himself in, a gruff yet quietly threatening voice which the boy believed he had adapted from one of the more shady characters with whom Sejah used to associate himself back on Nehantish. Thus far, the Padawan Learners have managed to slip into their roles with ease and have been integrated into the society and family of The Kingpin sans hassle.

"Ya drinks, mister." Loki spewed as he lazily planted the tray on the gentleman's table, again he squinted to see through the smoke and catch a better glimpse of the man's face. He had a thick, bushy moustache, matching eyebrows and a pink, bulbous nose. Then after marching off into the kitchen, Loki went into a coughing fit, he hated smoke be it from a cigarette or a cigar. Next stop, the restroom where he, as usual, would meet up with Sejah for his latest update. Secretly, Loki thought, Sejah was just as interested in the mysterious, smoking gent as he was, but he'd never admit to it.

[Sejah Haversh]

The pipes creaked as Sejah twisted the rusting chrome handles of the old bathroom sink, and he shook the water from his paws before reaching for some paper towels and then realizing that they were long gone. A few shakes later, the mongoose wiped the rest of the moisture off on his pants, and put his half-cigar back between his teeth. Sejah didn't smoke, but the thick taste of tobacco at least was enough to keep his nose off some of the more unpleasant smells of the bar.

And the restroom had to have some of the most unpleasant smells in the whole place. After a quick glance in the cracked and yellowed mirror, Sejah turned to head out the door when Loki walked in. "Still like working for a living, Loki?" he asked, his voice darkly humorous.

[Loki Ahmrah]

Loki cautiously glanced about the restroom to make sure no-one was around before answering Sejah. He beamed.

"Isn't this just great? I feel like I'm a secret agent or an actor--" He trotted cheerfully inside, then in an attempt to catch his reflection in the old mirror, Loki leaned against the sink and jumped but his weight against the basin caused it to shift and creak. Letting go, Loki allowed Sejah to take him under the arms and gingerly lift him up soi that he could see himself once more. He grinned in approval of the dirt and grime.

"--Or an actor playing a secret agent undercover in one of those old holoflicks. This whole experience is like a big play pretend game and it's great that no-one has any idea that they have two Jedi Padawans right under their noses."

After the brown mongoose insisted, Loki agreed to wash his hands before serving anymore meals. He wiped his dripping fingers against his baggy, flannel trousers which were held up by elasticated braces; Loki found them increadibly uncomfortable but when coupled with his loose-fitting, checkered shirt he really looked the part; then tucking his thumbs under the white braces, Loki continued.

"I still can't find out much about that fellow on Table Six, what a curious one he is, don't you think? Personally, I think he's up to no good and he should be expecting another one of those kids in soon. We should keep an eye on him. Have you noticed anything?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

At the far end of the bar, a patron idly stirred her drink with a clawed finger, dislodging the weakly-chirping rodent from the side of the glass, causing it to fall back into the drink.

Her blue eyes flitted about behind a pair of prescription sunglasses, courtesy of a pupil dialation at an eye exam earlier in the day. She watched everything. The customers. The employees. She took note of the food and drinks served, what the place looked like. She was obviously casing the joint with a hunter's eye.

And Taataani Meorrrei had an eye for profit.

As she scoped out the bar, Taa took a sip from her Keeja Mani, causing the live Sajoi inside to scramble desperately up the slick, bitters-coated martini glass to escape the inevitable.

As Taa drank, she considered the possibilities. The bar had an "atmosphere", whether that was a good thing or not. The patrons were the general fluff of unwashed, interspecies rabble that seemed to flock to lower levels. On one hand, it was easier for someone with a Cizerack's disposition to do their thing without chagrin. On the other hand, some species were just nasty.

Figures of credit chits danced in her head as she considered her plan. One thing was for sure, this place needed a bath. Cleaning this dive up could only help to draw customers.

A few minutes later, the drink was gone, and the Sajoi's time was up. With nowhere to go in its glass prison, it was plucked up by the tail, and quickly snapped up by the felinoid. Licking the long tail into her mouth, she swallowed, looking around for the manager.

[Ka' el Darcverse]

Ah just what I needed... The young man thought to himself as he took a long sip of his Orange Creme soda.

The tender had given him a disgusted look because the boy had ordered a soft-drink instead of a stiff one. It was no wonder. One look around the joint and you could see everyone was there to enjoy the benefits of alcohol on their own bodily functions.

Ka' el was tired, he had been patrolling the streets, something he did no matter where he was, it let him keep his senses sharp. He'd been walking all night and had worked up a thirst. The bar seemed lively and inviting. Besides something else seemed familiar about it.

"You're in my seat," A large man barked at the young boy wearing his Jedi robes. A man in a cloak was no unusual sight and the man probably didn't even recognize the style of robe that Ka' el wore. It was out of fashion for most Jedi to wear the traditional garb anymore. However when Ka' el opened his coat up slowly as if he were making a move to get out of the man's table, the flash of a saber hilt could been seen strapped to his belt. The brute's eyes immediately caught sight of it and he seemed to get nervous.

"I think I reserved this table" He waved his hand in front of the man's eyes attempting to use the fledgling Jedi mind tricks. The man grunted and thought about leaving for a second. Then grabbed Ka' el by the collar.

"Looks like you're not that good of a Jedi, whelp."

"I'm just not good with mind-tricks it seems."

Suddenly the man doubled over, he clutched his stomach. Ka' el's eyes gleamed as the man became physically ill.

"Bathroom is that way." He said and pointed. The bruiser then tried to stumble to the bathroom and finally collapsed from vertigo. One of the tables stared at him, Ka' el looked at them.

"I guess the Ord Mantell Vodka just hit."