The Gang Finds a Dead Guy

[Sam Porter]

Zeltron


So it wasn't really the first time she'd been here, but it'd certainly been a long time since she'd set foot on Zeltron. Didn't stop the stupid grin from stretching across her face, and Sam Porter hitched her duffel further up on her shoulder as she made her way through the starport's secondary terminal. It was short work going through customs, and without so much as a batted eye she was through.

She had only a few short days of leave, and the leggy blonde was determined to find herself a hole-in-the-wall-bar to inhabit. Hopefully the old gang would be around... somewhere. Last she'd known Zeltron was still the favorite haunt, and with the determination of a high-functioning alcoholic on a mission to find a good drink (cause let's face it, that's exactly what Samantha Porter was) she remained resolute in the knowledge that old stomping grounds were the best places to start any sort of search.

[Callomas Savoc]

Unfortunately, Sam was too busy thinking ahead to her future revels and not paying attention to the task at hand of walking. Either that or the person she bumped into was having the same affliction. Either way, two strangers checked into each other on a busy sidewalk, causing the man to stumble and drop a fairly oversized case onto the pavement.

"Oh."

Seeming a bit embarassed, he recovered, standing aside to allow the woman to pass as he went to recover his case.

[Sam Porter]

Not what she expected, but being that the crowds were ever-present and massive, it came with the territory. This was Zeltron, after all.

It didn't stop her from turning a strange look to the man as he stepped to the side, though. For her part, Sam gave a grunt and coupled with a dismissive wave while moving around him to continue on. As if it had a homing beacon calling her name, Rowdy's Corellian Pub was only a few more blocks up the way.

Shifting the duffel to her other shoulder, Sam idly wondered if business had picked up at least a small bit since last she was around.

[Callomas Savoc]

In the midst of recovering his case, the man's comm beeped. He took a call in handset mode, discretely listening to the call without it being heard aloud. It only lasted a second or two, and the look on his face was one of vague disappointment. By this time, Sam was already a few paces on her way.

"Excuse me, miss?"

He put away his comm and quickly hoisted his case to catch up with her. She had the look of someone on holiday (ie, not Zeltron and carrying a heavy bag) and his plans had suddenly changed.

"My transport has been cancelled for today. Is there a nearby hotel?"

[Sam Porter]

Sam paused at that, half-turning to send an odd look to the stranger. Hotels were not exactly a rarity here, and a person wouldn't be able to throw a stick without hitting one. To have someone ask about where the nearest hotel was was almost unheard of. And the look on her face spoke as much.

"There's at least two hotels on this block alone," she started carefully, making sure to speak slowly and enunciating every word. Just in case the man was a little bit, well, you know. Retarded.

"... and the same for just about every surrounding block."

One more block till Rowdy's. It was almost like going home in a way, and Sam's pace unconsciously quickened. She crossed the narrow street, with the man still walking with her. It wasn't entirely annoying, just curious. And as she stopped at the front doors of Rowdy's, Sam gave a gesture to a building a short ways down the way.

"That's a hotel right down there. Cheap, too."

In a moment of compassion though, she gave him one last parting piece of advice.

"Go ahead and spring for a room with one of those magic-finger beds." She gave him a wink.

"Those things work magic."

[Callomas Savoc]

Callomas turned to see a lurid display of neon signs and barred windows, complete with a door made of dented metal that was crusted with enough layers of stickers and flyers as to make it some manner of geological strata.

"I would care not for this magic on my fingers." was the best response to her ridiculous suggestion he could produce through his Caridan-accented Basic. Instead, he continued along with the person who at least seemed to know the area he was in.

"Where are you going?"

[Sam Porter]

Gods he was going to follow her!

Please please please don't follow, dammit... please. Whyyy?

He'd gone from curious to annoying in no time flat, and Sam gave a rather heavy sigh, one hand on the pull-handle of the front door to Rowdy's.

"Nowhere that you would find interesting, I imagine."

She didn't really make a face, but she did give him an oddly untranslatable look that had the markings of a sort of thousand-yard stare. It was a strange look, and one that she'd seemed to perfect over the years.

She could already see the bottle of That's-No-Moon in her hand, and with a slight push she eased the door open while turning away from the man.

"Trust me; you'll like the magic-fingers," it was a last ditch effort to scrape him from her boots, and stepping inside of Rowdy's, Sam wasn't surprised in the least at the emptiness. And yet somehow, the place was always here. It always managed to stay open and always managed to keep its' doors from closing for good. Which - she supposed - was a blessing. After all, where else would she go?

[Dominick]

The bar was busy. Hell it was always busy, just like every other damn bar on the planet. Only busy for Rowdy's meant that only the regulars had shown up but they had shown up en mass. That meant like... five whole people! Three of them off-worlders! Nevermind the fact they kept to the edges and grumbled into their beers rather than actually talking to each other. Nevermind it was one of the most miserable spot on the entire planet - which was hard pressed given that the entire damn thing was dedicated to feeling good and partying it up like you were gonna kick the bucket tomorrow.

Stupid crappy bar.

He'd messed up, Dominick knew it. This was penance for a job half done. So while his sister got the cushy job working in the swanky place across from one of The Family's four star resorts, Dominick was stuck here, doing what had become lovingly become referred to as "Dom work". Watching after and maintaining shitholes. Huzzah.

The worst part? The absolute WORST part? Yeah. Easy. That was he didn't even GET to be the bartender. He was stuck cleaning up and making sure people weren't getting too uppity and trying to just manage a place that didn't need managing because one of his uncles actually currently owned the damn place and took care of all the crap that actually kept it running.

Only one good thing about Rowdy's. You knew the people. So it was that he had just finished mopping up the mess one of his least favorite patrons had left when they had miscalculated the amount of alcohol that could actually fit in a person that Dominick happened to look up and noticed the blond walk in.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

[Callomas Savoc]

Even for a guy who didn't get out on many social calls, Callomas could tell that this place was a dive. He paused in the threshold of the door, looking at the deadest bar this side of Tatooine. Still, it was a place relatively-free of many witnesses that he could probably loiter in until his contact decided to call once more. Carefully, he entered, heel-toeing it around the sticky floor as he found a small table in the center of the establishment. He set down his oversized bag with a thud, pulled up a chair, and waited.

[Sam Porter]

Dom's greeting wasn't unexpected, and she took it in stride with an impish sneer while sidling through the practically empty bar.

Just like always.

Dom hadn't changed much from the looks of things, and the mop in his hand was testament enough to the fact that he was still the maintainer of every shit-job imaginable in Rowdy's.

Just like always.

"Hey there, Dickbag," she answered almost gleefully, her expression changing to a wide smile as she made her way to the bar itself, her duffel deposited at her feet with a flourish as she propped herself up on the well-worn, veneered bartop. It was as if she'd never left; she'd even spied old man Konroi in the back corner grumbling obscenities into his drink.

"Any of the other jerkwads about?"

[Ledo G. Prent]

Suddenly the front door burst open, and Ledo shuffled through, squinting a bit at the lights over the bar. As he ambled forward it became apparent that he was only wearing one shoe, his other foot being clad only in a grime-caked sock. Seemingly none the worse for wear, Ledo walked behind the bar and picked up the tip jar. He upended the whole two credits within onto the bar top, and then proceeded to fill the tip jar with beer from the tap.

[Dominick]

Dominick was about to shrug and declare that he didn't know where the fraking hells the people Sam was referring to could have gotten off to. Last he'd heard Salvo was in the good company of Dominick's half human cousin but frak all knew what that meant. So it was the word Nope had settled on the back of his tongue, started worming its way out...

And then trouble had walked right in the damn door and decided to pour itself a drink.

He shook one free hand at Sam, non verbally threatening her not to start any shit or else and struggled between pointing and holding the mop with the other at the other guy.

"Hey! You can't just..." The words died on his lips as he got a better look at the guy and decided that yeah, okay, no pissing off the dude with one shoe who looked like he might be actually capable of breaking you with a decent enough glare.

Instead he looked to Sam for help, pleading half puppy and half idiot eyes in her direction. Mostly because she was closest. Yep. Let Sam deal with the guy. At least Dominick knew she could hit like a bag of bricks when she wanted.

[Salvo Starborn]

The back door to the bar flew open, the handle slamming against a conveniently door-handle sized crack in the wall.

“Are my 'and's on fire?!”

True to form, old man Konroi didn't so much as flinch at the shout.

Salvo swayed into the bar. He held both hands up in front of his eyes, staring at them with wide, red-rimmed eyes that shone with a familiar gleam. He had orange dust on his nostrils and upper lip, and the top of his trousers was unbuttoned, revealing the waistband of a pair of pink boxers.

“There's fire coming off me 'ands, right?” He flexed and curled his fingers, eyes widening at... nothing. “Shit, Dom. Come 'ere and lemme see if it burns.”

[Sam Porter]

Aaahhhh, home.

Salvo's entrance was about to be expected, and Sam would've smiled like a gundark gone mad on deathsticks if it hadn't been for one Ledo Prent.

Instead, the leggy blonde let out a sigh as the palm of her hand slapped energetically on the bartop. Time to play the babysitter. Again. Was it really so surprising? No, not really, she supposed. Though, if she was going to be honest with herself she knew that she was in just as much need of adult supervision as the rest of their gaggle of reprobates.

Moving to skirt around behind the bar, Sam swiftly went to work (it was like she'd never left). A quick hand reached out, grabbing away Ledo's makeshift glass before he could finish filling it. What had made it into the jar was swiftly poured out, and she gave the crusty old goat a surprising shove to send him back to the front end of the bar.

"You," she pointed at him, then her finger shifted to point down at one of the many barstools.

"Sit."

The jar was replaced, and the credits that'd been inside were returned as she reached back with her free hand to grab an actual glass.

Bringing the rim ro the tap, she angled the pullhande so that the amber glory within began to slowly fill to the pint line. Meanwhile she turned to look at Salvo, choosing to take the opportunity to feed his drug-addled hallucination.

"On-fire hands aren't allowed in the bar, Salvo, you know that."

[Ledo G. Prent]

"Oi now! Tha's a sin, it is!"

Horror-struck at drained beer, Ledo sulked over to the bar stool Sam had pointed out, seemingly hobbling due to the height discrepancy between boot sole and bare sock striking the ground. The old pirate groused as he sat.

"Sef service a' de taps, now tha's a efficient bus-i-ness model iffen Ah say. Cut ou' de middle man an giv de cusso'mah wha' 'e wants."

Feeling another set of eyes on him, Ledo made a sudden movement in Dominic's direction.

"Boo!"

[Dominick]

Ohthankthegods that Sam had caught his meaning. Dom was never quite sure why she got to play barkeep, but his uncle must have seen the security footage at least a million times over and never once had Dom been hassled about letting her do it. Not like when he had tied at least. Dom had learned that lesson once and only once.

One problem down and another...

The Boo caught him off guard and for a split instant Dom couldn't decide if he wanted to run away from the pirate or Salvo. Pirate. Decision wasn't too hard after all. Not that he ran, just more wandered a step or two closer to the degenerate staring at his hands in mild panic.

"Don't you touch me. I don't know where your burny hands have been. How the hell did you get here anyway? And... No, Sal. I said don't." Dom quickly put his hands up in a feeble defensive position, preparing to ward off whatever touchy feelyness Sal was plotting. "Wait... How long have you been BACK THERE?"