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| - The Sandbar A large circular room creates the main part of Caspar's infamous SandBar. Dark wood paneled walls adorned with all sorts of paraphanalia set the relaxed athmosphere of the bar. Photographs and holovids are pinned randomly around, seemingly with no order at all. Posters from years past hang proudly, displaying obscure bits of Plaxton's recent history. Several windows made from a deep blue glass allow light in from outside, while still keeping the appearance of the bar rather dark. Along one curved wall a marble bar stands proudly, where Ariani busies herself making drinks and cleaning occational spots of the bar. There is an abundant amount of seating in here. You notice quite a few booths and tables, as well as a loft which protrudes out over the bar. A popular local band plays smooth jazz in the background. For help with tables, type "PLACE HELP" For help with drinks, type "BAR HELP" -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Tarlin => Ariani => Emma -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- OUT leads to Fountain Square - Plaxton City. Ariani says, "Welcome to the SandBar, what can I get ya?" Joir enters the bar quickly to escape the drizle of the light rain outside. Once inside he shakes down his cloak to remove the surface moisture before looking across the bar for a familiar face. Seeing the Marine pilot sitting at the bar he makes his way toward him - flanked by two large men (who have been ever present since yesterdays shooting incident). Tarlin his young man is both avg in both hgt and wgt having jet black hair worn high and tight with bright blue eyes. Tarlin is wearing a fullbody, slate green flightsuit with blackish splotches on it. Strapped around the front of this suit is a small square pack that holds oxygen for the pilot, should there be a need for it. The suit regulates temperature to ensure comfort. The suit appears to be armor reinforced from beneath, and has numerous pockets to allow the pilot to store items. A flight helmet is a standard part of the flightsuit, and can be attached to create an environmentally-secured atmosphere for the pilot. Running down the center of the helmet is a small tab which is used to slide the blast shield up or down. Across his upper left-chest area is a dull-gray namepatch with the name Tarlin Lathis imprinted on it. Adorning his collar is his rank insignia. Two cason hawks, one gold and one silver, indicate his rank to be Sub-Lieutenant.. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol => Knife => Protective Vest Tarlin motions to a seat to a seat as he nods to the bartender "Looks like you need some coffee" The woman quickly brings a cup of the hot liqued and sits it on the bar infront of Joir. Joir gives Tarlin a curt nod in greeting before taking a place next to him at the bar. His two escorts take up close positions in extremely obvious positions - clearly they hope to send the message 'Stay away' to any likely threat. He accepts the coffee with a grateful smile, taking a small sip before placing it on the bar and commenting in a low voice "Busy day" Tarlin sips his coffee "Luckly no.. Just some fool who did not id his ship when he came out of hyper space. ,, If he does it again ,,, well its not my hide thats going to get fraged." Setting the cup down "Have you herd anything about the Ambassdor? Joir turns to aim his cold grey eyes at the Marine, examining him closely when he mentions the Ambassador, keeping his face impassive he forms a guarded answer "/Rumors/... the Imperial investigation is just getting started..." he pauses for a second and then continues with a slightly more forceful voice "Perhaps you may know something of the official Casparian response?" From his flat tone of voice it is unclear whether Joir is as ignorant as he implies or if he knows more than he is saying. Tarlin turns to face both of the large men the Joir "Im only concerd about her well being. What is her medical status.... As for CDU's stance ive herd nothing. Thats Master sergiants Webbs investigation I think. With an equily forefull voice and expreasion "By the way I dont like Veiled threights from any one" Joir shakes his head, his bland facial mask cracking slightly to reveal a mixture of surprise and weariness, his eyes flash slightly when Tarlin suggests he is threatening him but dull again - it is not worth the effort. First Ozzle, now Tarlin it seems he has a way of giving a false impressions. His rejoiner is at the same level of his previous speech, low and authoratative "Neither do I Lieutenant... as for the Ambassador - she is still in a critical condition" Ressec Only on word could describe this Quarren, fat. This incredibly large Quarren only stands at about 5'9. His clothing seems to fit him perfectly. The close themselves are typical of any Quarren save that their bright blue. His eyes, while still being turquoise, are dark. He always wears a belt with various waterproofed repair tools on it. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Tool Belt Tarlin leans over and whispers to the man next to him at the bar" "Im sorry to hear this. If I hear any thing you have my word I will contact you. I only ask the same of you. In this maner we are more likly to obtain our goals in seeking justice." A little calmer from todays insdent, Ressec, returns to the bar and calmly orders a drink. As Tarlin leans closer to Joir the two bodyguards who entered with him stiffen and reach inside their jacket coats, however as it becomes apparent that there is no ill intent they relax - if that is possible for members of their profession. After listening to Tarlin Joir gives him a curt nod to indicate that he understands, he answers in a low - but audible voice "Justice indeed" Tarlin leans back in his seat and sips his coffee while turning to face the body guards with a hardend look before he again face's joir. Sipping his coffee he is heard saying in allmost a growl as if to reminde himself "Duty First" Joir 's cold grey eyes dull slightly as he stares past Tarlin - as if remembering something important. With face set in a chilling mask he repeats Tarlin's words with cold military precision, almost as if pronouncing a statement deeply intrained by harsh indoctrination "Duty First" Clarise enters the Sandbar. Clarise has arrived. Clarise slips quietly into the Sandbar and glances around, a habit sprung out of constantly walking in while some kind of fight was going on. Tarlin sits at the bar with Joir. waiting for a refill on his coffee.
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