About: RPlog:When Darkness Sinks In   Sponge Permalink

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Switchblade Cantina - Coruscant Just off the Eastport shuttle exit there sits a low class but comfortable looking cantina. The Switchblade is a low lit, clean smelling, and filled with aliens of all types who lounge and drink while listening to smooth seductive music that plays quietly in the background. The cantina is shaped roughtly like a letter 'C' that wraps around a small stage which is typically sectioned into three parts. Each section of the stage contains a female dancer who moves along with the music in a sensual way. The dance is erotic but by no means a strip show as the girls do their thing the crowd can watch or go about their business as they please. At the top curve of the 'C' there is a long curved bar with stools arranged all along it's length. The Bartender, a grizzled

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  • RPlog:When Darkness Sinks In
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  • Switchblade Cantina - Coruscant Just off the Eastport shuttle exit there sits a low class but comfortable looking cantina. The Switchblade is a low lit, clean smelling, and filled with aliens of all types who lounge and drink while listening to smooth seductive music that plays quietly in the background. The cantina is shaped roughtly like a letter 'C' that wraps around a small stage which is typically sectioned into three parts. Each section of the stage contains a female dancer who moves along with the music in a sensual way. The dance is erotic but by no means a strip show as the girls do their thing the crowd can watch or go about their business as they please. At the top curve of the 'C' there is a long curved bar with stools arranged all along it's length. The Bartender, a grizzled
dbkwik:starwarsmus...iPageUsesTemplate
abstract
  • Switchblade Cantina - Coruscant Just off the Eastport shuttle exit there sits a low class but comfortable looking cantina. The Switchblade is a low lit, clean smelling, and filled with aliens of all types who lounge and drink while listening to smooth seductive music that plays quietly in the background. The cantina is shaped roughtly like a letter 'C' that wraps around a small stage which is typically sectioned into three parts. Each section of the stage contains a female dancer who moves along with the music in a sensual way. The dance is erotic but by no means a strip show as the girls do their thing the crowd can watch or go about their business as they please. At the top curve of the 'C' there is a long curved bar with stools arranged all along it's length. The Bartender, a grizzled looking Devaronian, moves his way from customer to customer. Everywhere else in the cantina are tables and chairs, along the ends of each side of the room their are booths leading to two private rooms. The main entrance to the Cantina is just beside the bar. Evening on Coruscant, and one can always find a happening 'hot spot' for whatever one's desires. A drink is the desire of choice for Ti'Ilandria Di-Inaris - a depressed woman fairly certain she's just thrown her entire career out of the airlock of one of the orbital gunnery stations above. There was a message she vaguely remembers, about meeting a friend for food and conversation. Ti'Ilandria even vaguely remembers responding about being here tonight. But truth be told, the woman walks in a daze - a dark cloud she cannot shake herself of, and so slides up to the bar instead, slapping down some credits and ordering a Corellian Whiskey. The recipient of the ill-remembered message, Roe steps in through the front door. It was an uncomfortable walk through the neighborhood. Having no idea that this was a poorer neighborhood, she'd dressed as she usually does, and encountered more than her fair share of stares and suspicious looks on her way here. Just getting inside feels like a welcome relief, as most cantina crowds tend to ignore everybody anyway. This one proves to be no exception, and Roe pauses just inside to get her bearings. Her eyes sweep the tables first, frowning as she notices no one familiar at them. Funny, Ti said something about eating... And it's about then that she catches sight of her friend at the bar. With whiskey. The former medic frowns and moves that way, concerned. Her assumption about cantina crowds isn't entirely true. A couple pairs of eyes slide over the red-haired medic from a table not far from the bar. Raising her left hand, Ti'Ilandria starts to run it over her hair, pausing to oddly press it to her ear, before shaking her head in an absent manner. The glass of whiskey is taken into hand, and the woman does not even blink as she tilts her head back and downs all of it - slamming the glass back down on the bar with an all too familiar sound in a cantina. Oblivious to all, Roe could be jumping on Ti'Ilandria's shoulders, and she wouldn't seem to notice her now. A hand is waved over the glass, indicating her desire for more, even as more credits are placed on the surface of the bar. She says nothing, speaks not a sound, but the Barkeep frowns, having seen that look before. But money is money, and she's not drunk -yet, therefore he pours her another glass of the amber liquid. His eyes then drift with the movement, falling on Roe, and the grizzled Devronian lifts his chin in a nod, offering a wicked, if warm smile. "What'll be your poisson?" he offers in a tone that somehow sounds like a whisper, but carries to the red-headed woman easily. Roe frowns, watching Ti. Not good. She should at least look around occasionally. Or shift positions. Ti's usually a lot more animated than this. Just then the Devaronian bartender's words catch her ear, and she shakes her head. /Frell/. Of all the times to be noticed. "Whyren's Reserve, two shots," she replies, pitching her voice to carry to him, but not to be too loud. It's not too different than calling across an operating room when you don't want to disturb your fellow lifesavers. She waits until the Devaronian steps away, then steps up behind Ti and clasps her shoulders gently but firmly. "Ti? Do I need to adjust your shirttails again?" she says softly, leaning down close to the woman's ear. "Probably," grumbles the woman without even a thought. It takes a couple of heartbeats for Ti'Ilandria to realize that someone has talked to her and that she has responded. Blinking, and straightening, the pull on her shoulders then alerts her to the hands there. This, then, startles the woman, so that she nearly jumps, hazel eyes widening as she carefully holds out the glass in an attempt not to spill any of the precious amber liquid within. After a sharp intake of breath, Ti'Ilandria, while still holding the glass of whiskey, starts looking around almost frantically, her eyes wide and fearful. That is, until they settle on Roe, and the woman then visibly relaxes. "By the Hells, Roe! Don't /DO/ that to a person! What are you doing here?" is asked before the TechGirl gulps down the contents of her glass before she can spill them further. "This ain't your typical kinda place, is it?" Roe moves with the jump, as she was expecting it. "You invited me here, Ti. Frankly, you looked like you /needed/ to be startled out of that funk you were in." She lets her arms slip around the tech-girl's shoulders for a casual hug, then slips loose and casually seats herself on the stool next to Ti. "Especially considering you just told me to adjust your shirttails again, which I won't do here." She leans a bit closer. "Ti, what's wrong?" A confused expression is given in Roe's direction as the red-headed woman wraps her arms about Ti'Ilandria in a hug. Lips part, the TechGirl about to say something, then seeming to decide the breath it would take to utter her thought wasn't worth it. Lifting her empty glass to her lips, Ti'Ilandria peers at it, then sighs, settling it to the side on the surface of the bar. "Wrong?" asks the brunette, before shaking her head. "Nothing worth worrying over," she states with a wave of her hand, before reaching up to run her left hand over her head once more. "I invited you? I did?" she asks curiously, honestly confused, her brow furrowing as her brain wades through the muddled memories held within. "I think I remember sending a message. Was that today? Huh," she notes, before shaking her head. "I got shot again," she suddenly blurts out, almost sounding cheerful about it. "In the shoulder. By a droid, I think," she says. "It was dark. Hard to tell." Trained to know not to interrupt, the Devronian barkeep manages to just miss the conversation between the two women, sliding two shots of Whyren's Reserve towards Roe before the woman has a chance to respond to Ti'Ilandria. "There is a table free," he notes in a bass voice that sounds like river rocks tumbling over one another, "In that direction." With a lift of his chin, the barkeep motions to a table next to a pair of eyes that followed Roe curiously when she walked in. "That was today," Roe confirms. "And if /you/ are forgetting appointments, then something is definitely wrong." And the remark about getting shot makes her pause and think. Ti getting shot by a droid might seem like a betrayal of the worst kind, given the woman's fondness for anything technical. "Why would a droid be shooting at you, Ti?" The Devaronian's words draw a blinks and a nod. "In a moment," she promises, meaning it. She's a little more concerned about Ti than about decorum. Shaking her head, Ti'Ilandria glances at Roe, almost bleakly. "I dunno. Investigating a supposed droid army on Tatooine. I think it was maybe something programmed for assassination. There was a ship there that I found in the darkness looking for a light, and the moment I sliced into the ship and rebooted the computer, that's when it started shooting at me. It's head was vaped, though, so can't recover any of the programming," she offers, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "It's a nice ship, though. I'm gonna ask if I can keep it. What's the ADF need with a 40 some-odd year old ship anyway? Rumor is their auctioning off a bunch." For his part, the Devronian simply nods, and moves to one end of the bar. Whispered words are shared with a waitress, and it seems the table will remain empty until Roe takes it. "Found in the darkness looking for a light? And it started shooting at you?" Roe blinks and looks curiously at Ti. "It sounds like I missed a lot on Tatooine. I'm sorry I couldn't be there. What sort of ship is it?" Ti'Ilandria just shrugs at Roe once more. "It's okay. I'm used to being in the cargo hold," she says, without realizing the words have slipped out. "Mmm? Type of ship? I think it's a Nubian H-type. Has the lines and chromium for it. Doin' some research to make certain. Gonna fix it up if they let me keep it," states the young woman, before narrowing her brows at Roe once more. "Why are you here again?" Another blink. "/Cargo hold?/ Ti, did something happen on Tatooine?" Roe's looking more and more concerned. Especially as Ti's memory seems to have some serious glitches. The woman shakes her head once more, despondent and obviously depressed. "No, not really. Well, there were sparks when I snapped at Thrask when he insisted he was my friend. I had to call him out for that. I don't have any friends anymore. Well, a couple. But ... not the ones I thought I would always have. How can you be someone's friend if you forget about 'em when they're not around, you know?" A pause, then Ti'Ilandria chuckles. "No, you probably don't. You're pretty, happy, with a personality ten meters wide when you don't hide it. You couldn't possibly know. And that's good." Roe's concerned frown gets worse. "Ti, if this were a physical matter, I'd be calling for an evac 'speeder right now," she says. "You're not okay, and this is the last place either of us should be for that." She drops a few credit chits on the counter, probably more than enough, and offers her hand. "Come on, let's get you home." A flat look is given to Roe. "I left the Violet Sky on Ord Mantel," she notes, shaking her head. "I'd really rather not wander to some empty and dreary quarters wherever they're holing me up these days," she notes. Spying the two shots of Reserve on the bar, Ti'Ilandria reaches out for one, intent on drinking it. "I'm just tired, but I can't go about sleeping too much, can I?" she says, her lips suddenly turning into a frown. There is something more she wants to add, but stops herself. "Then my place. My landlord's been generous because of his daughters and how the 123rd Medical helped them out after that speeder crashed into their lobby." Roe gestures towards the door, and then catches that deliberate pause. "Ti?" she prods gently, letting her have the shot if she wants it. The glass is lifted towards Ti'Ilandria's lips, hovering for a moment before the woman tilts her head back and downs it. Thumping the glass on the bar, Ti'Ilandria starts to lean into it, brushing her left hand through her hair again. "I have nightmares, Roe. Bad ones. Always have. Ain't no way I'm gonna wake you up in the middle of the night screamin', just 'cause you decided to be nice. I've got ..." she starts to say, eyes widening as if trying to focus as she begins to slowly list to her right. Straightening up, like nothing was out of the ordinary, a smile is given at the bar, though it is intended for Roe. "I've got work I gotta do. Starships that need fixin'. There's a cot there... " "Ti, the last thing you need right now is to be alone with all that," Roe insists. "That might be making the issue worse. And burying yourself in your work won't help." She slides an arm around the woman's back, just under her shoulders. "And I've got almost nothing to do at this point anyway. What would I need sleep for? Besides, you're drunk. I'm not letting you stagger home alone in this part of town." "Pfffft, staggering is good for the balance. You learn to eventually compensate," offers the younger woman, though she does not make any move to resist Roe's help. "I only got my work, Roe. I gotta work. I can't do nothin'. Doin' nothin' just makes it worse," she finally lets out in a whisper, sliding herself from the barstool, her knees giving way a bit before she is able to find them once more. "Doin' nothing means I got all these thoughts and voices in my head driving me insane. Well, more insane. Pretty sure I'm just plain nutters already," she starts to babble. "When I work, when I focus, they all stop. It's quiet. I like the quiet. Sex works sometimes, too." Roe nods habitually, understanding several things now. Like Ti's tendency to talk to the air sometimes. "Come on... door's this way. And you need a good night's sleep in a real bed for a change." She reaches over and brushes Ti's hair out of her eyes with gentle fingers. "Trust me, I've tried to bury things under a load of work. It didn't work at all. They were all there, staring me in the face, when I got out from under the pile." Roe's not a psychologist, and it shows. Lips purse in an innocently confused expression as Ti'Ilandria turns her head to look at the red-head. "But... what if you never stop? I like swoop racing... I can go face, and outrun the pain for a little bit," she murmurs softly, leaning just a little more on Roe. "I don't like being confined. Medical is the worst, no offense," she drawls. "Got nothin' to do but think. It hurts ta' stare into the depths of hell that's my life, Roe. I don't wanna ... if I can just keep busy... " she tries to suggest, then stumbles over her own feet and just barely catches herself before she potentially takes the pair of them down. "If you never stop, you exhaust yourself and then you're left lying someplace thinking about it anyway," Roe replies. "And I'm not taking you to Medical. I'm just getting you someplace that isn't a cell and isn't a cot next to a collection of droid and ship parts. And I'll be nearby..." Which is as far as she gets when Ti stumbles. The medic's used to hauling people around, but talking and hauling at the same time isn't a good idea. She stumbles, taking a longer stride than necessary when her foot slides. She plants her foot hard to stop the slide, her other leg flexing under Ti's weight. The sound of something ripping is inaudible over the bar conversation, but Roe, gets the feeling of something giving in the crotch and seat of her tight pants. She feels her face growing warm and carefully levers the two of them upright again. One hand tugs down the hem of her bantha-leather jacket. Thank the Maker she was wearing it tonight. "Come on, Ti. Let's get out of here before you pass out." Ti'Ilandria looks far younger than her years and experience at the moment, staring in wide-eyed (and drunken) innocence at Roe. She seems to think over he offer made, her mind managing to come back to the subject at hand eventually. Then the woman nods, the only word out of her mouth is said lightly, almost happily, thanks to the whiskey, "Okay."
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