okay 3, 2, 1 let's jam

[sola hayes.]

I HAVEN'T SLEPT A WINK
MY MIND IS ON THE BRINK

BLEEPBLEEPBLEEPBLEEPBLEEPBLEEPBLEEPBLEEP
Sola’s eyes opened slowly to the sound of the alarm she had, for some ungodly reason, apparently set the night before. The pounding headache creeping into her head gave her an idea of what she must have been thinking – or drinking – last night. She rolled over onto her side, awkwardly trying to untangle her long limbs from the sheets before managing to get a hand out to slap the button down on that damn alarm clock. “[color=Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…” she sighed.

Now why the hell did I go and do that? She ran her hand through her hair, grey eyes boring holes into the ceiling. Almost on cue, her stomach growled. Ahh. That’s why. Begrudgingly, she got up. Her head throbbed worse as she slipped her clothes on and got ready for the day. She needed to find work soon. Her rent in Moai was due and alcohol doesn’t REALLY count as food, although if you ask some people they’d say it does.

She put her goggles around her head, letting them hang on her neck. She checked her image in the mirror, running a hand through her dark hair. "Knock 'em dead, kid." She left and locked her room, sneaking past her landlord as she made her way outside. Sola shielded her eyes as they adjusted to the artificial sunlight. Showtime.

-

“Spare parts?! That’s it?” she grumbled to herself after reading the bulletin board posted by the docks. Sola had struck out all day trying to find something to do. Everything had either been snapped up already or no one was hiring. Seems like everyone these days needs more than they’ve got. She decided to head down to a bar she liked to frequent on Moai. The Rambling Rose wasn’t exactly the best joint in town but it certainly wasn’t the worst. Close to it, though. She figured she could hustle up some drinks or credits from some drunk idiots.

"Here again Sola?" said the bartender as she walked in. "You know I'm your best customer, Mac." she said with a cheeky grin as she sat at the bar. She ordered a drink with the few credits she had. Not like she wasn't going to make them back. Sola's eyes scanned the room in a catlike manner, trying to find an easy target. She eventually sauntered to the pool tables and chalked a cue. Now let's see what happens, shall we?


[[ TAG; anyone on Moai!]]

[Lieve Teminnick]

Lieve Teminnick

Moai: the Docks
Bar: the Rambling Rose
Time: Evening


Lieve had been waiting in the Rambling Rose for two hours, hoping to answer the call for ship’s cook on some miserly transport unit. It didn’t offer much for pay, but it was all under the table and work was short on the drifter colonies. She tried to avoid skipping ship in these parts for just that reason. Drifter Colonies existed for a reason. If work were plentiful, no one would stay.

Eying her empty water glass, Lieve hoped the bartender wouldn’t notice her loitering any time soon. Bars weren’t her idea of bonnie bedding, but she’d left the Galvestern without pay. It wasn’t that she’d done anything wrong; it was Captain Halver’s sudden interest in her that set her teeth on edge and cued her instincts to run. She’d had men who wanted to know where she came from before. Men asked questions all the time, particularly after being space-bound for weeks. She was a pretty girl and a warm bed was all anyone could ask for out there. Problem was, Halver wasn't looking for a bedmate. He didn't seem interested in her doing favors for him at all.

Halver didn’t watch her scrub the floors with hot eyes. He didn’t adjust his stance so she wouldn’t notice his tight pants. He watched her with a thoughtful frown, asking idle questions that weren’t idle at all. So she left.

She tucked her feet tight around the large patchwork bag on the floor as a pair of drunk gypsies wandered in, not half as wet as they wanted everyone to think. One glanced her way and she caught his eye, shaking her head sharp and short. Guilelessly, his eyes slid away and he scouted out another target.

When a rakish young woman prowled up to the pool table, lieve propped her elbow on the table and sighed, head on her hand. Things were about to get messy in here. Was a quiet night too much to ask?


(OOC: Lils invited me to go ahead and post.)

[TAG: Sola, Any]

[Riordyn Valionche]

The day had just begun, but already the lights of Maoi had been burning for several hours, filling the air with the insistent humming of machinery. To the residents of Maoi it was a sound they had long ago become accustomed to, but for one man out amongst the homes, it gyrated upon his every nerve as he slid through the streets, crafty eyes falling upon the doors of each and every house, quickly casing rough estimates of how many lived inside. He wasn't trying, it was simply one of those useless habits developed by salesman who lived and died by the sale. Lately there had certainly been a lot more die than live, however, he had to admit that he had roughly overestimated the number and interest of the people living within the colony. Pirates were certainly lawless out in the Deep Space where they lived by their own merits, but within the 'safety' of established colonies, they had to be slightly more approachable. At least, that was what had brought Riordyn Valionche, hoping to make a quick buck swapping plunder for necessary items; such as liquor, special modifications for weapons, and even a few holovids for those lonelier nights as far as pirates were concerned.

He didn't like to think of himself as a sleazeball, after all, it wasn't his fault that the actual residents who, for whatever miserable reason, tried to carve their existence in the floaters had little use for his goods... though he did understand the rules of supply and demand, and it seemed the demand was high indeed for clothing, ammunition for protection, and the exotic niceties of the rich. Food too, but Rio had learned long ago that he belonged nowhere near those goods. Pirates always attacked food ships and the few successful ones never made up for the losses. "Perhaps for a meager profitable interest I could bring these good people what they want," he mused to himself, already running the numbers through his head. He would definitely return. With a mental footnote he shifted his focus, noting that he was almost there. Already the sounds of bar could be heard, though he had a few blocks to cover. "Noisy little joint," he muttered to himself, pressing through a throng of early-risers and sliding in through the double swing doors, the crudely lit letters spelling out 'Rumbling Rose'.

"Hey Mac Attack! You should be smiling the smile of a man who just added nearly thirty casks of the galaxy's finest liquor to his stock! Of course, there might have been a complication and one barrel had to be withheld for safety reasons... but you wouldn't hold that against me now, would you?" The soft clicking of a stack of credits was all the answer he would get. Leaning over to peer at the thickness of the credits quizzically, Rio did a quick count, a frown forming on his face. "Mac, my comrade in arms against the tyranny of sobriety, would you really wound me so harshly?" "You were to be paid for thirty, now yer being paid fer twenty-nine. Take this drink on the house, I want no troubles, but yer not getting another credit out of me." A sly glint flashed in the barkeep's eyes, too subtle for most. But Rio had made his life reading those little signs, and to him it was a plain giveaway that he was setting him up. "Actually... if yer so hard up for creds, why don't you try the lass at the pool table. Been going through a real unlucky streak that one." With an exasperated sigh, Rio scooped up the cards, "More likely she's never lost... fool's errand-" he lamented.

Rio scooped up the glass, taking a single sip as he turned to leave. Just to humor the old man, he did give a slight off glance towards the pool stable. And stopped. He'd seen better, but at the moment he couldn't quite remember where, taking a full gulp as he watched her deft hands chalking a cue, dark hair hanging over her eyes. "No risk... no reward..." he mused over one of his mantra, precariously holding his drink out and eying the liquid to ensure he didn't spill a drop as he swerved through the tables, giving a ridiculous leg with his glass still balanced. "I believe I'm the first fish of the day, mad'am?"

[OOC: Hope y'all don't mind me joining!]

[sola hayes.]

I'M A HUSTLER BABY
I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW

Unfortunately, most of the patrons in the bar seemed just as poor as she was. The pair of drunken gypsies who had entered behind her had originally seemed promising; but as she saw deft fingers sneaking into other peoples’ pockets, she realized they weren’t as helpless as they looked. Sola’s eyes rested for a moment on the pretty barmaid at the counter, who looked as bored as she was. Delicate little things like her don’t belong out here in the sticks. Girl’s gonna find herself falling into trouble if she stays here. She took a drink from her tankard and set it down on the table behind her. Sola began to prep the table for a game figuring she’d play by herself, screw up a couple of times for good measure, and see if anyone was dumb enough to test their luck. Or, hopefully, someone with money would stop by.

She didn’t need to wait long though. A tallish man with black hair and a well-tailored vest waltzed into the joint and began to speak to Mac at the bar. They appeared to have some sort of business deal with each other. Sola saw the stack of credits being exchanged and grinned. Bingo. Mac nodded in her general direction and she smiled again. Thanks, Mac! She chalked her cue again as he strode towards her.

“I believe I’m the first fish of the day, madam?” he said, drink in hand. She gave him a look up and down before responding, sizing him up. He didn’t appear to be too threatening.

“Now I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, with an eyebrow slightly raised and an amused expression on her face, “Fancy a game though, do you?”

[sonja ERES harned]

let's write the songs that they want - I thought they'd love us but they don't...

Sonja wasn't used to finding nothing. Normally in a drifter's colony like Maoi, there were tons of people looking for work to be found - but it seemed like no-one relished the thought of joining pirates, no matter how eloquently she described what they did. Her clothing was, perhaps, off-putting - she had chosen for herself a dress in a typical Gothic Lolita style, the skirt and petticoats just below the knee, and all in a deep black. The top was corset-style, with fancy lace around the collar that accentuated her bust, and the elaborate laced-up back pushing the girls to front and center. Little would anyone know that a knife was hidden - in fact, no-one would probably even notice. Her outfit was finished off with some gorgeous black boots that laced up to mid-thigh - she may be a rough and tumble kind of lady, but dressing nicely was a fairly new luxury to her, and so she took advantage of it.

She knew there would be at least one bar, somewhere, that was full to the brim with people to potentially scam... or a fight waiting to brew that she could get involved in. There was nothing better than a bar brawl to make her remember why she enjoyed her business, and most bars on Maoi could appease her at some point or another.

So when she entered The Rambling Rose, she wasn't surprised to see the bartender raise an eyebrow and set a drink - rum and coke, of course, not fit for a lady but perfect for Sonja - on the bar.

"So, Mac... Got anything interesting to report?"

The bartender looked at her with a glint in his eye. "You always ask the strangest questions, Ms. Harned. What're you lookin' for on this fine evenin'?"

Sonja met the bartender's look with a wide grin of her own - the song and dance. He knew something that might interest her, of course. He always did - being a bartender had that effect. She took a sip of her drink before replying. "The Nyx is looking to fill out some positions. Looking for some crew. Preferably, of course, people with experience of a slightly... less sophisticated view of the merchant trader business." Her smile had remained constant through the entire conversation - Mac knew exactly what sort of "trading" the crew of the Nyx was involved in, but they made a show of pretending neither noticed all along.

He motioned to a young woman with a pool cue in her hand, probably out to make some quick cash... Or maybe just play some pool. It looked as though she was about to get propositioned by some guy... and so Sonja put her back to the bar, drink in hand, and watched the events unfold.

Maybe I'll find someone worth hiring if I pick up the debris after a fight... We could use some tougher crewmates.

[OOC: Tada! I posted! It's like I exist!]

[waka FATANU]

It was getting late, though the day lights of Moai would be on for a little longer the atmosphere of the colony had already begun to change to a more nocturnal character. Waka walked through the familiar streets of his home, occasionally stopping to talk to old neighbors or friends on his way to the Rose. It had been almost an hour since he had been able to pry himself from his sister and Kora to make it out to the bar. As much as he loved the women in his life sometimes he just had go out and let off some steam.

The Rambling Rose Used to be the old mess hall back when Moai was a mining colony. When the mine dried up Mac bought the place and turned it into a bar. It would take a drifter colony like Moai to turn a second rate bar like the Rose into the closest thing this place had to a historical landmark. Waka had been around the Bar since he was a kid, his father used to come here after work and he would tag along, he had his first beer here, and he brought Serra here after he proposed. Coming to the Rose always brought back good memories, it was almost like a home to him.

Because of his familiarity with the Rose however, Waka knew better than to just walk in un- prepared. The rose had dim lighting and the contrast of the dark room to the bright artificial lights of “day” would affect his vision. As he got ready to step into the bar he closed one eye and opened the door. When Waka stepped into the bar he quickly shifted his eyes, this allowed the previously closed one to be adjusted to the dim light while the other eye did not get shocked by the difference in photo levels. Mac always gave him shit for the eye thing, said that he always had to wink at him when he came back into port, said it was a sign he had been in space to long.

Maybe Mac was right.

As Waka stepped into the bar a few sights surprised him, the first was the outsiders. Contrary to what many may think a drifter colony has a mostly stable population of locals. The ship board people may come and go, but Moai is still their home and people knew them here, people like Waka. There was a quite woman at the bar with an empty glass and no condensation, she had been here awhile and not for the drink. There were two strangers getting ready to play pool, one looked like a shark, the other like a guppie. Waka liked the look of the shark but she looked like her teeth might extend to more than her pool game. What bothered him the most was the fact that there were two gypsies in the bar pretending to be drunk pickpockets, there were plenty of those around here but these two were knew, no one came to Moai to be a beggar, something was off.

On most other nights this would simply be an oddity, tonight was different though, tonight Sonja was here. Waka knew enough about his shipmate to know that in a situation like this chaos was likely to ensure, good. It had been awhile since he had been in a good scrape. He motioned to Mac to not draw attention to him as he carefully took a seat against the wall near the door. A few feet away were some of the dock workers for pier 4 who were known to be big and rowdy, six of the guys. When things get interesting, Waka thought, I want the big ones.

[Riordyn Valionche]

Feigning a wounded look, Riordyn swept back up, taking a sip of his drink. A glint of amusement shined in his hazel eyes as he hooked a finger in the handle of his drink, spinning it fast enough for the centrifugal force to prevent him from spilling so much as a drop, all the while explaining, "Well beautiful, there are quite a few things I -" he paused, his eyes flickering down for just a moment to accentuate his next words, "- would fancy right about now, but indeed a game would be one of them. And I can certainly settle on fulfilling a single fancy... for now," he added with a playful wink. Truly, Rio didn't expect anything to happen, but as was usual, it wasn't like he could really help himself. Compulsive flirting was what some doctor had once upon a time labelled him with... probably hadn't helped that he had brokered a slightly cheaper deal with her for a few 'favors,' and then sold some slightly less-than-credible supplies to make up for the profit-margin. "You know, I'm beginning to believe she might have been making that up..."

As if on cue, Rio's glass hit the edge of the pool table, dumping its contents out onto the floor, only his quick reflexes sparing him the embarrassment of soiled pants. "Ah well, wasn't a very good drink anyway," he lamented with a lazy scratch of his hair, turning on his heels back towards the pool cue rack, leaning back slightly as he eyed each in turn with an appraising eye. "Nope, nope, nope, perfect! ... actually nope, never mind, I don't like the color of that one," he muttered, finally letting out a slight sigh before picking a particularly warped stick, "This one feels about right!" he cheered triumphantly, brandishing it before him like some sort of spear. Plucking the chalk up between his thumb and index for inspection, he dropped it, catching it on the top of his shoe before letting it roll to the floor. Planting his pool cue in the small hole of the chalk, he worked the stick like he was trying to spark a fire from the chalk, "So, the line might be near retirement, but come here often?"

A bemused grin formed on his face as he eyed the rack of pool balls, "I'm nothing if not a gentleman my dear, ladies first. I'm up for all sorts of games..." he concluded, sweeping his hand in a mock flourish across the table before offering another half-wink.

[melanTHIOS nanda]

NOT REALLY LOOKING FOR TROUBLE
IT MUST BE LOOKING FOR ME

When he had credits to spend, there were only a handful of places you would find Melanthios Nanda. On Moai, that place was the Rambling Rose. A noisy little bar in the dock district, frequented by pirates and other unsavory types, was his kind of place. For once, the young man was free of dirt and engine grease, his pretty face practically pink from the scrubbing. His clothes were clean as well, but still bore the telltale signs of hard work.

His boots were what gave him away, worn and dirty, obviously having seen more time in an engine room than in a place like this. Even here though, the floors were dirty, tracked with the footsteps of hundreds like him; who’d come here to blow their hard earned credits on pool, darts, and cheap whiskey.

The young man sauntered up to the bar and sat down on a stool, swiveling it to face to barkeep. At the moment he was talking to woman about his age that looked somewhat familiar. Why exactly, he couldn’t place. He waited for the two to finish their conversation while he scanned the place. Besides the regular dock workers, there were a few other faces here tonight. A sharply dressed gentleman was playing pool with a dangerous looking brunette, while another woman looked on from the bar. The drink in front of her was either vodka or water, and judging by her demeanor it was probably the latter.

He turned his attention to the woman chatting with Mac, mostly hoping to catch the attention of the barkeep so that he could get a whiskey. The familiarity of her face bothered him. Where did he know her from? He studied her casually, not wanting to pick a fight without cause. Her outfit was amazing, and her hair was more so. Why did he recognize that face?

[Lieve Teminnick]

-



-

Disappointing as the evening may have been for work, at least Lieve wasn’t short on entertainment. She didn’t quite know what to think of the man who wandered up to the pool shark with full knowledge he was being hooked, but his genial flirtation and general eccentricity made her laugh. Either the man was a few screws loose, or the shark was about to be eaten alive. Either way, Lieve appreciated it.

Unfortunately, she’d been so wrapped up in the pool table, Lieve missed the entrance of Captain Halver until he sidled up to one of the conspicuous gypsies.

Eyes wide, Lieve dropped from her seat to press under the bar, hoping she hadn’t been seen. If the heated conversation Halver was having with the suddenly sober gypsy was any tell, soon it wouldn't matter. Whether he was looking for her or not, he was bound to notice his missing crew member lurking about.

Holding her breath, Lieve watched Halver scan the room, skipping over her empty seat without notice, but the frown on his face and the tense set of his shoulders said he wasn’t here for a social call.

Halver wasn’t a particularly large man, but in the months she’d served with him, Lieve had come to appreciate the skills of the middle-aged freight captain. Halver was as respectable a brawler as any ship man and his gun hand was swift and sure, but his real talent was orchestrating events in his favor. If it were simply she and Halver in a dark room, Lieve wouldn’t worry about the outcome, but in a bar swiftly filling with discontent hands and the less savory members of the Maoi, there was no telling how many people would be between her and the door.

Drifter colonies tended to frown upon stranger slicing and dicing their way through a crowd, no matter how shady the corner of the community or how amazing her excuses were. On a closed port colony, it would only be a matter of time before the authorities found her. No ship would take her out of here with a fresh warrant on her head.

Unless Halver magically decided he had someone else he urgently needed to be, Lieve needed a plan.

That was, of course, when the trim, dark-haired captain headed for the bartender. The two gypsies stayed near the center of the room as look-outs, no longer caring to keep up their drunken charade. Halver was stalled by a barrel-chested dockhand who seemed unnecessarily belligerent with the world at large. Lieve sighed her thanks to whatever luck was shining on her and took stock of her options.

The pair at the pool table, while rambunctious and quirky, were likely to hurt more than help, even if they played along. Particularly since the woman had a certain edge to her that begged someone to let her hit them. Across the room, a large man looked promising, but until she could get a better tell on his general personality, she couldn’t risk crossing Halver’s path to reach him. As Halver moved past the angry dock-worker with minimal fuss, Lieve realized she was running out of time. At the bar a bright-haired woman dressed for notice and a conspicuously clean man idled by the bartender, both seemingly wrapped up in their own affairs.

Cursing, Lieve stripped off her denim vest, leaving herself in a revealing white crochet halter and short denim skirt. Her brown boots were scuffed and painfully practical, but there was little she could do about that. Hoping no one would snatch her few meager belongings, Lieve darted across the bar.

Sliding up next to fresh-faced man, Lieve sat on the bar in front of him with a large smile. “Hi, I’m Lieve,” Halver’s eyes landed on her and narrowed, “and I really need you to play along,,” she rushed, suddenly desperate.

With that, she grabbed him by the belt loops and aimed for a kiss.

It was that or chucking the man straight into Halver and Lieve liked to leave her options open. With her luck, she was going to need a helluva lot more than a 'Plan B'.

(Tag: Thios, Any)

[sola hayes.]

LET'S GET IT STARTED
LET'S GET IT STARTED IN HERE

“Well beautiful, there are quite a few things I would fancy right about now , but indeed a game would be one of them. And I can certainly settle on fulfilling a single fancy... for now,” he said with a wink as he spun his cup deftly on his fingers. Sola grinned wryly. Presumptuous little bastard, isn’t he? Whatever, I’ll play along. He seems to have good reflexes though. Karma seemed to strike quickly, however, as the cup struck the edge of the table and sloshed his drink on the floor. Maybe not.

“Ah well, wasn’t a very good drink anyway,” he said as he moved to the rack of cues, eyeing each one carefully as if he was selecting a fine jewel.

“Mac might have some words to say to you if he heard you spouting that off,” she said with a nod towards the bar as she watched him. He must not have heard her, perhaps too deeply interested in his task.

"Nope, nope, nope, perfect! ... actually nope, never mind, I don't like the color of that one," he muttered. He (finally) selected a stick. Sola raised an eyebrow as she noticed the slight curve to the stick. I doubt he's as ridiculous as he wants me to believe. I better watch this one. With a triumphant crow he cheered, "This one feels about right!" Sola waited patiently as he chalked his cue clumsily.

"So, the line might be near retirement, but come here often?" He swept his arm towards the table as if displaying it. "I'm nothing if not a gentleman my dear, ladies first. I'm up for all sorts of games..." Sola rolled her eyes.

“You’re right, it is tired,” she said with a smirk, “but yes, I do. The game's nine-ball. 5 games, 50 credits per game. Good?” She bent over the table and prepared to strike the cueball. “One more thing. Stare at my ass and I’ll kick yours." She broke the rack expertly, a solid-colored ball sinking into the right corner pocket. "Solids. Your move."

[waka FATANU]

Waka wondered what else could happen to further the drama of the Rose. First a horny and deadly looking mechanic walked through the door. He looked like the kind of grease monkey that would try to convince the ladies that he was the captain, and sneak away come morning. He might be able to pull it off too, he cleaned up well, but the oily shoes combined with the walk of a man used to omni-gravity marked him as a mechanic to those who knew what to look for. He also had the swagger of a scrapper, but he was not that big a guy. His size and his walk marked him as one of those fast and sneaky fighters, but one who could handle himself.

After this man came in the spooky captain of the thieving gypsies entered the bar. As soon as the second stranger walked in the gypsies took note and fell into step almost without thought. They knew him, and they also listened to him, he was why they were there. Since the man was obviously a superior he was either a captain or a commander, considering that he didn’t recognize any of them Waka assumed they were a crew. The stranger’s presence seemed to upset the quite woman at the bar. The quite woman moved over and kissed the mechanic.

Well the stranger and the gypsies were bound to make some trouble at this point so Waka decided it might be time to take some action. He began to walk toward the gypsies making sure to keep an eye on the quite woman and the stranger for any cues.

[sonja ERES harned]

let's write the songs that they want - I thought they'd love us but they don't...

[OOC: You skipped me! Waaaaah!]

Eres blanched, almost spewing her drink all over herself, as Melanthios Nanda entered the bar. She could see him eyeing her, but the recognition wasn't quite there yet - he recognized her, but didn't know why. Of course, she remembered.

Thios was from The Azalea. His arrival here meant that either he had left the ship the same way she did, or they were in port. The thought alone made her want to cry, but the mechanic had never really troubled her - he was a weird void, a nothingness to her. They each knew the other existed - had even been acquaintances, living on the same ship - but she had been busy working for her father and protecting herself from the crazies on-board, while Melanthios had had his own problems and concerns. But knowing they were here...

She took another sip of her rum and coke and then almost spit-took that as well when a woman tried to kiss Thios. She lost almost all attention she had paid to the pool game - though she noted with satisfaction the no-nonsense way the woman broke - and instead worked to hide the look of disbelief.

It seems he really IS following the traditions of The Azalea... That's a bit disappointing. I might have been able to convince him to work onboard The Nyx in some fashion and saved another poor soul from that wreck of a ship.

As much as she wanted to pick his brain about the Azalea (namely, her father), what she really wanted more than anything was to rip that face-sucking woman off of him and show her how Sonja handled her social problems. Well, and her professional problems. Most of her problems, really... With her knife.

The thought itself startled her, but it wasn't unheard of for Sonja to become irate about things that didn't seem to bother other people - he may be a shitty crew member of some half-rate pirating rig, but it was HER half-rate pirating rig, and SHE was the only one who could go around bad-mouthing it. And he had no business looking so clean and neat after living aboard it.

And that settled it. Sonja downed the rest of her drink and stepped up to the woman currently competing for the record of "most out-of-place display of public affection" and tapped her on the shoulder, a smirk on her face that could easily shift to a sneer.

"If I could just interrupt you for a moment, I know someone who might want to have a word with you."

[OOC: Sonja's gonna start a fiiiighht~~~~~]

[Riordyn Valionche]

“One more thing. Stare at my ass and I’ll kick yours."

"But of course love," he acknowledged, leaning backwards to get a better view of the table. However, without even thinking about it, his trained eye started by observing the end of the pool cue, watching as she lined up for her break. As she pulled back the stick, he instinctively followed the motion upward, eyes roaming across the small lines of muscle that tightened beneath her skin and continuing up and over. It was inevitable that his sight would indeed finally settle on the shapely ass as she rocked back... he hardly heard her in his world away... something about her being solids, though he was rather grateful for the loose fitting pants he favored - she wasn't the only thing solid. Shifting his pants in a poor attempt, he felt himself blushing as he mentally tallied just how long he had been floating around in space before this port visit. Regardless of the obvious evidence that he had looked, Rio was nothing if not quick on his feet. His hazel eyes were affixed perfectly to the pool table and he could already feel the blood returning to the head upon his shoulders as she turned around.

With a slight sigh, he hung his head, laying his pool stick aside as he presented his back side. "Sorry beautiful, I can resist anything but temptation. I'll admit I looked, so I'd say before I make my shot you do indeed to get to kick my ass. Make sure it is a good thrashing though darling, or knowing myself I am bound to look again. I'd appreciate if you didn't go for the gems, there is a steel cup there and I'd hate for you to hurt your foot on account of one such as myself." Still turned around, he squinted and tensed up as if to prepare for a thrashing, however beneath his shaded eyes he did a quick scan of the bar. taking in the various people that had shown up. The liquid courage was beginning to buzz, but even so he could tell already that he would be completely outclassed if a brawl happened to break out. He wasn't too fazed though, he saw more than a few different escape venues he would hardly hesitate to use. Granted, about six of them would mean he would have to find a new place for his business... jumping through a glass window in an emergency A) hurt and B) would be the devil to pay for if he ever came back. There wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell he would.

Just as quickly as the intelligence had flashed across his eyes, he snuffed it out. Craning his neck in an attempt to look at Sola while keeping his body turned, he offered a slight wink, "Don't worry about being too rough darling, no matter the pain it was certainly worth it. I would love to take a few shots for my promotional holovids some time, just in case you feel like taking a break from the shark tank sometime." He offered no explanation for his last words, but he knew he didn't need to. This was as much a dance of words as it would be of actions as far as Rio was concerned, and for all his lack of grace, he never said he was skilled... but he would be damned if there were many more out there who enjoyed the dance as much as him.

[OOC: Figure shit will hit the fan soon, but if not there is no pressure for a long post Sola, I know I didn't give you much to work with...]

[melanTHIOS nanda]

NOT REALLY LOOKING FOR TROUBLE
IT MUST BE LOOKING FOR ME

Finally getting Mac’s attention, Thios asked for whiskey. Not a moment later, the brunette down the bar from him got up and moved to the stool next to his own. She smiled and introduced herself, but Thios could see fear in her eyes. “I really need you to play along,” she said, and grabbed him by the belt loops.

For a moment, he was surprised by the suddenness of the kiss, but he went with it. If a pretty girl wanted to kiss him, he certainly wasn’t going to raise any objections. In the back of his mind, he wondered what she was avoiding by doing so. An old flame perhaps? He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, closing his eyes as he did.

All too suddenly, the moment ended as someone came up behind his new friend. "If I could just interrupt you for a moment, I know someone who might want to have a word with you." The voice did it. His eyes flew open as he pulled back from Lieve. Looking over her shoulder, his eyes met Sonja’s.

“Sonja Harned. What a pleasant surprise. Come to join the fun?” His tone was casual, but he wondered what was going on in that twisted mind of hers. He kept his arm around Lieve, unconsciously protecting her from the dangerous redhead. The last time he’d seen the younger Harned, they’d both been teenagers onboard the Azalea. Usually when they saw each other, they’d tried to one up the other, although Sonja had always been better with a knife than he was.

Secretly, he’d had a crush on her back then, a feeling that was only intensified by seeing her grown up and in such an amazing outfit. While a million questions raced through his mind, he smirked himself and gave her a once over. Two women fighting over him and he hadn’t even gotten his first drink. This could turn out to be a better night than he’d anticipated.

[Lieve Teminnick]

-



-

It didn’t take a fortune teller to see somewhere between one end of the bar and the other, Lieve’s plan went amok. Not that it had been a particularly brilliant plan to begin with, but somehow tripping head first into an estranged love triangle was about as far from ‘going smoothly’ as she could imagine.

Well, no, it wasn’t. It was still damned inconvenient.

“Yes,” Lieve smiled wryly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at her own ill-luck. “I’m aware. That is the problem. Luckily, I promise I haven’t fallen in love with your dashing friend, here. You can have him back just as soon as I send kindly Captain Halver back to his ship empty-handed.” Leaning on the man’s shoulder, she slung her arm around his neck and tucked her head under his chin. “I won’t even scuff him up below the belt.”

She pulled back and pecked him on the cheek, "Not that you aren’t adorable. You’re just trouble. And you’ve been picturing her without a skirt since you walked in, see, and I don’t share.”

“Temminick,” Halver barked, tone sharp and commanding as he stood behind them. “You’d best have a damned good excuse for jumping ship. You broke contract. Your ass belongs on my ship until the final pay comes in. Funny, you were in such a hurry you forgot about that.”

Normally, she’d try to weave a helpless yarn that painted her as dangerous as a pup, but Lieve was officially too tired, too frustrated, and too god damned sick of being cornered to care anymore. “Go fuck yourself,” she snapped. “I seriously don’t give a shit what you want. You’ve been staring at me since the last freight drop for all the wrong reasons and, you gotta admit, that sort of thing makes a girl nervous. So tell me what you want and get gone. Or don’t. I couldn’t give a damn either way.”

“Funny, you’ve been making me nervous,” Halver growled. “What sort of half-assed scullery cook deals with pirates? For six months you’ve been boiling beans and taping duct panels between moppings, and suddenly I’m getting transmissions from the sort of people I’ve never touched noses with, all wanting to talk to you.”

And wasn’t that just the daises on the manure? “You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Lieve panned, pulling her arm off the good looking man’s shoulders. She rubbed her nose and gave it a pinch before she gave a small laugh, “Cause I’ve got to tell you, ‘pirates’ don’t narrow it down much.” Trading trouble for trouble seemed to be the way of it, these days.

“Gods above, girl,” Halver shook his head and Lieve felt a stab of remorse as she realized the man felt some sort of paternal responsibility for her. It didn’t make her feel any better about him, but it almost made her sorry she couldn’t explain. “What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

Then again, he wasn't doing much to explain either, and it was her neck on the line.

“Honestly,” she shrugged, “last time I checked I wasn’t in any. I’ve left a few ships on rocky terms, but none of those were crooked. You gonna tell me who’s been calling, or do I just get to guess?”

She leaned out of the way as the bar tender set a shot of whiskey on the counter.

“Called himself an old friend. Said he’s interested in your ‘many talents’,” Halver scoffed, obvious about his assumption on what those talents were. “Said he’d like to rekindle an old flame. Has an offer for you.”

“Name, Halver, or that’s as helpful as pissing in the wind,” she huffed.

“Seoras Metinjen, says he’s sailing off the –“

“Azalea.” Lieve cut him off numbly, dread settling in her stomach. Old flame. Right. That bastard always thought he was funny. What’s one engine fire assassination of a law enforcement official between friends, after all? If Seoras had an offer for her, it was going to be bloody, dangerous, and everything she’d tried to avoid. She'd known that deal had too easy, too clean. One time offer: messy work, big pay day, no ties. A man like Seoras kept his fingers in the pie long after it cooled. She should have known.

The pointed silence from her bar companions didn’t help matters, either. With an expletive, Lieve grabbed the man’s whiskey off the bar and downed it with a hard swallow and a slam. “Fuck.”

(Tag - Sonja, Thios)