The luxury liner Yesterday's Tomorrow wandered from world to world on the rim. Never staying anywhere to long. Never going anywhere too fast. It was one of those forever cruises. A ship packed with a full range of folk from those who didn't want to be noticed to those who did. Those who were thirsty to those who had better things to do. They all came for their own reasons. They all left disappointed. Yesterday was almost always better than tomorrow, or so their bank accounts said.
This was not where Zechs expected to "wake up." Apparently he had "fallen" in some sort of stasis chamber for an undisclosed amount of time. This time thing had scrambled what eggs were left of his brain, and if that didn't make sense, that was the point. Someone had bought his tube and accidentally released the man who remembered about as much of his past as the name of that weird taste on the roof of his mouth form something he ate forever ago.
Thankfully, they let him go (after cleaning out his pockets). So here he was on Yesterday's Tomorrow one noodle short of a noodle, but he was still wearing some pants. The coat he was a tad long for his blank tastes. And that hair... Force awaken. He almost tied it in a "Jedi bun" to get it under control. Whoever he had been was up there in noodle-town with no chef to sort it out. This was going to be weird.
This was weird, but weird was what a wild ride on the rim was all about. It sounded like fun.
SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
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Zechs Merquise
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- Location: Greater New Orleans Area
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Salem Norongachi
- Staff
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- Joined: Mon Sep 04, 2017 3:46 pm
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
There is a song, known the universe over and across all realities, sung by all drunks at some point on thier way home from a bar or a nightclub, it echos across the dark empty streets of every city on a saturday night. It goes something like this;
"Show me the way to go home...I'm tired and I want to go the bed. I've had a wee drink about and hour ago and its gone right to my head..." Sal could remember belting out the song, singing it for all he was worth like he was serenading the moon itself. "SHOW. ME. THE. WAY. TO. GO. HOME!" each word was punctuated by a stamp of the foot, followed by an attempt to maintain balance. "I'M TIRED AND I WANT TO GO TO BED!" he recalled, vaguely as the florescent light stabbed him in the eyeballs, that he'd probably vomited. "I HAD A WEE DRINK ABOUT AN HOUR AGO....!" that was it, that was his last memory of the night before. He gingerly, carefully, sat up and found himself in a cabin. A bed lay under him, the generic white sheets looking up at him bashfully knowing that they had serviced many a drunk patron and across the way, on a mirror set above a cheap synthwood table was written "Thanks for a good time."
It was at this point he began to feel a constriction in his chest, it wasn't panic because Salem Norongachi never panicked, and sent his blood shot eyeballs around the room. His shoes were there, which was nice, his suit jacket, black of course, lay crumpled on the floor and his trousers, with belt and silver buckle, were firmly upon his body. What was missing, he found after a hurried pat down, was his wallet.
He fell back onto the standard issue 'too soft' hotel pillows and let his hands find a cigarra in his trouser pocket, it had been half smoked and was slightly bent but at this point he didn't really care. A flash of the Force on his finger tip lit it and he took a long drag while looking at the slow spin of the fan on the ceiling.
"I'm never drinking again..."
"Show me the way to go home...I'm tired and I want to go the bed. I've had a wee drink about and hour ago and its gone right to my head..." Sal could remember belting out the song, singing it for all he was worth like he was serenading the moon itself. "SHOW. ME. THE. WAY. TO. GO. HOME!" each word was punctuated by a stamp of the foot, followed by an attempt to maintain balance. "I'M TIRED AND I WANT TO GO TO BED!" he recalled, vaguely as the florescent light stabbed him in the eyeballs, that he'd probably vomited. "I HAD A WEE DRINK ABOUT AN HOUR AGO....!" that was it, that was his last memory of the night before. He gingerly, carefully, sat up and found himself in a cabin. A bed lay under him, the generic white sheets looking up at him bashfully knowing that they had serviced many a drunk patron and across the way, on a mirror set above a cheap synthwood table was written "Thanks for a good time."
It was at this point he began to feel a constriction in his chest, it wasn't panic because Salem Norongachi never panicked, and sent his blood shot eyeballs around the room. His shoes were there, which was nice, his suit jacket, black of course, lay crumpled on the floor and his trousers, with belt and silver buckle, were firmly upon his body. What was missing, he found after a hurried pat down, was his wallet.
He fell back onto the standard issue 'too soft' hotel pillows and let his hands find a cigarra in his trouser pocket, it had been half smoked and was slightly bent but at this point he didn't really care. A flash of the Force on his finger tip lit it and he took a long drag while looking at the slow spin of the fan on the ceiling.
"I'm never drinking again..."
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Zasabi Ray
- Full Member
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- Joined: Mon Aug 26, 2019 1:37 am
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
If there was one thing that had proven true time and time again, it was that the best place to seek cover was usually in plain sight. Hunters look for people shying away from prying eyes, hiding in the shadows and walking with fear. In Zasabi's experience, simply adopting a basic disguise and behaving as a well-to-do traveller was enough to avoid undue attention.
At least, that was how he justified spending what he had on the cruise's spa program. A thin glass of some sort of colored liqueur sat half-empty on the table next to him, kept company by a small plate of snacks that were just fancy enough to justify their price tag. He wore only a thin robe, having just emerged from a cleansing bath that, had he known the details of, he might have refused in advance. No matter the efficacy of the treatment, he didn't find the notion of small creatures eating his dead skin cells to be particularly appealing. The face mask he now wore, however, was much more to his liking.
He let out a small sigh as he took a sip from the too-sweet drink and settled into his seat. Yes, he was doing a marvelous job of staying undercover. No one would suspect a thing.
At least, that was how he justified spending what he had on the cruise's spa program. A thin glass of some sort of colored liqueur sat half-empty on the table next to him, kept company by a small plate of snacks that were just fancy enough to justify their price tag. He wore only a thin robe, having just emerged from a cleansing bath that, had he known the details of, he might have refused in advance. No matter the efficacy of the treatment, he didn't find the notion of small creatures eating his dead skin cells to be particularly appealing. The face mask he now wore, however, was much more to his liking.
He let out a small sigh as he took a sip from the too-sweet drink and settled into his seat. Yes, he was doing a marvelous job of staying undercover. No one would suspect a thing.
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
She woke up on Yesterday's tommorow, her head hurt, she had no clue what, how, why, or who. Kota focused her eyes, they had been blurry when she initially awoke. She slowly got up, she felt like she had been drugged or been drinking severally. However she didn't remember drinking anything, course her head hurt to much at the moment to think. Kota just knew she felt like she was being watched.
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Darth Fett
- Full Member
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- Joined: Fri Jul 13, 2018 3:44 pm
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
Zzzrt.
Flit.
Shund.
The servos controlling her spindly fingers seized and sputtered, adding to her perpetual befuddlement. The delicate glass clamped between her indelicate digits surrendered to the forming hairline fractures, its contents gently trickling and pooling along her patchwork bronze varnish.
As a TC-SC, each and every glitch and stuck joint struck at the very fiber of her artificial sanity. Her base aesthetic was of course fashioned to appear simplistic and disarming, all in service of her core functionality of infiltration.
The puddle forming at her foot was quite enough to bear.
It was risible for her to have tried blending in by casually holding a drink like she was some meatsack socialite. She HAD dozens of the proper programs to near perfectly emulate such a scenario, with or without her actual hardware being calibrated to her liking.
Enough. She lurched forward suddenly, abandoning her commands for this mission. Swiftly in spite of her limp, she passed behind a large vaselike decoration and emerged on the other side with a fresh visage.
Now Axl Fett stood on the outskirt of the nearest unaware cluster of socialites, an uncanny valley in his eyes and a shattered flute glass, nestled in his oddly relaxed palm.
“In position,” is all that escaped his lips as he scanned the crowd, his periphery settling to the far side of the space, zeroing on a particularly rotund Falleen and the small harem formed around him.
Flit.
Shund.
The servos controlling her spindly fingers seized and sputtered, adding to her perpetual befuddlement. The delicate glass clamped between her indelicate digits surrendered to the forming hairline fractures, its contents gently trickling and pooling along her patchwork bronze varnish.
As a TC-SC, each and every glitch and stuck joint struck at the very fiber of her artificial sanity. Her base aesthetic was of course fashioned to appear simplistic and disarming, all in service of her core functionality of infiltration.
The puddle forming at her foot was quite enough to bear.
It was risible for her to have tried blending in by casually holding a drink like she was some meatsack socialite. She HAD dozens of the proper programs to near perfectly emulate such a scenario, with or without her actual hardware being calibrated to her liking.
Enough. She lurched forward suddenly, abandoning her commands for this mission. Swiftly in spite of her limp, she passed behind a large vaselike decoration and emerged on the other side with a fresh visage.
Now Axl Fett stood on the outskirt of the nearest unaware cluster of socialites, an uncanny valley in his eyes and a shattered flute glass, nestled in his oddly relaxed palm.
“In position,” is all that escaped his lips as he scanned the crowd, his periphery settling to the far side of the space, zeroing on a particularly rotund Falleen and the small harem formed around him.
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Zechs Merquise
- Full Member
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- Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 1:07 pm
- Location: Greater New Orleans Area
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
The aquarium on the Yesterday’s Tomorrow was ripe with fish and the debatably sane swimming in fish costumes. Looking through the thin glass into the swirl stirred a vague tightness in Zechs’s chest. Confinement. A hostile nothingness outside a thin shell. Predators swooping around him. A void of sound except his pounding heart.
A stray hand touched his shoulder, sending him a few inches off the ground. The fog grew thick once more.
He needed a drink. The thought didn’t come over him, but his feet knew what to do and when. He started off towards the nearest bar, Quark’s.
A stray hand touched his shoulder, sending him a few inches off the ground. The fog grew thick once more.
He needed a drink. The thought didn’t come over him, but his feet knew what to do and when. He started off towards the nearest bar, Quark’s.
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
Yesterday's Tomorrow was a stupid name for a ship.
Didn't matter all that much, though, since it was the only place Sith military would approve leave this time of year. Luxury cruises were always cramped and full of old people who didn't know where they were anymore, but at least most of the time the inhabitants were too senile to remember the word "exotic" and they were generous with the drinks. If there was anything Emic loved besides overwhelming violence, it was a perfectly-made cocktail paid for by someone else. Hey, so far so good, she didn't have to strangle a xenophobe on the pazaak table yet. Although maybe that would be fun.
A blood-red dress that matched both her skin and her disposition softly swayed around her legs as she sat on a stool around the game table, next to some elderly Banking Clan executive and his wife. Once the wife noticed the wandering eyes of her husband and began to raise a fuss, Emic silently departed with the fourth Rodian splice she had drank on his dime.
Casinos were a dead scene, anyhow. The Zabrak downed the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on the tray of a passing serving droid. Maybe the bar would have a more lively crowd. Less geezers, hopefully. Although somehow, she doubted that would be the case. Down a deck and halfway across the ship was Quark's. Shiny and clean, like a surface nightclub on Coruscant.
Didn't matter all that much, though, since it was the only place Sith military would approve leave this time of year. Luxury cruises were always cramped and full of old people who didn't know where they were anymore, but at least most of the time the inhabitants were too senile to remember the word "exotic" and they were generous with the drinks. If there was anything Emic loved besides overwhelming violence, it was a perfectly-made cocktail paid for by someone else. Hey, so far so good, she didn't have to strangle a xenophobe on the pazaak table yet. Although maybe that would be fun.
A blood-red dress that matched both her skin and her disposition softly swayed around her legs as she sat on a stool around the game table, next to some elderly Banking Clan executive and his wife. Once the wife noticed the wandering eyes of her husband and began to raise a fuss, Emic silently departed with the fourth Rodian splice she had drank on his dime.
Casinos were a dead scene, anyhow. The Zabrak downed the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on the tray of a passing serving droid. Maybe the bar would have a more lively crowd. Less geezers, hopefully. Although somehow, she doubted that would be the case. Down a deck and halfway across the ship was Quark's. Shiny and clean, like a surface nightclub on Coruscant.
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Zasabi Ray
- Full Member
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- Joined: Mon Aug 26, 2019 1:37 am
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
The heat of the Sauna was paradoxically both overwhelming and refreshing. It clung to him like a hutt's slime but at the same time left Zasabi feeling relieved of all his skin's toxins.
"Your turn," grunted the Ugnaught across from him, a set of shiny metal cards in his hand. Zasabi held a set of his own, but he had set them face down on the table in front of him. His eyes briefly flickered down to them before going to his opponent. "What are we at?"
"Raised to two bottles of Corellian Ale."
Zasabi frowned. The Ugnaught had put down a card in the stasis field, suggesting at least some sort of confidence in his hand. He was unsure, however, how long it had been since the last shift. If it weren't for the small stakes of the game, he would have been cursing himself for his lack of focus. As it was, however.... he didn't mind losing a game or two. "I'll see that bet."
Cards were revealed, and predictably the Ugnaught had a the better hand. Calls were made to the bar outside of the sauna and a break was called as players left and were replaced by others. Zasabi mopped at his emerald tinted brow, letting out a small yawn. "Alright, let's get the next hand going," he began, leaning forward and waving the dealer droid to begin shuffling. "Small blind at a bottle of Toydarian Whiskey?"
The other players agreed and, as the cards were dealt out, the Theelin wondered just how many other similar scenes were playing out throughout the ship.
"Your turn," grunted the Ugnaught across from him, a set of shiny metal cards in his hand. Zasabi held a set of his own, but he had set them face down on the table in front of him. His eyes briefly flickered down to them before going to his opponent. "What are we at?"
"Raised to two bottles of Corellian Ale."
Zasabi frowned. The Ugnaught had put down a card in the stasis field, suggesting at least some sort of confidence in his hand. He was unsure, however, how long it had been since the last shift. If it weren't for the small stakes of the game, he would have been cursing himself for his lack of focus. As it was, however.... he didn't mind losing a game or two. "I'll see that bet."
Cards were revealed, and predictably the Ugnaught had a the better hand. Calls were made to the bar outside of the sauna and a break was called as players left and were replaced by others. Zasabi mopped at his emerald tinted brow, letting out a small yawn. "Alright, let's get the next hand going," he began, leaning forward and waving the dealer droid to begin shuffling. "Small blind at a bottle of Toydarian Whiskey?"
The other players agreed and, as the cards were dealt out, the Theelin wondered just how many other similar scenes were playing out throughout the ship.
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Zechs Merquise
- Full Member
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- Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 1:07 pm
- Location: Greater New Orleans Area
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
Zechs walked on in the bar, up the stairs into the saua for hopefully some warm remedies, and hobbled towards some folk playing cards inadvertantly, after nearly being bumped into by a waitress in less than professional clothing. It seemed wagers were bottles or something bottle-ish. The old he who he hadn't met probably wouldn't have said anything. This he on the other hand couldn't help but slip a few words from his lips.
"If you're looking to get the party started faster, I hear if you down it through the backdoor it gives you a real kick."
1. He wasn't sure how he knew that.
2. He didn't want to know how he knew that.
3. He didn't want to find out if that was true.
4. Why was he making lists in his mind?
5. Surely he had something better to do as he searched one of his pockets for an imaginary lost item.
6. He hadn't figured out what it was he wasn't sure he was missing.
7. That was that.
Then as if the name of the bar held any importance, Zechs felt a little Quark surging up in him. It took the strength of the worst breathe he had ever not known he had smelt to bite down on it and seal it up. The last thing a guy who wasn't sure who he had been needed was to cover a pair of strangers in stranger fluid. Who knew what they had pumped him full of or had he done so himself?
There was only one way to find out. Taste it. And boy he did. Swallowing took even greater strength to catch what little made a mouthy appearance. It turned his face sideways and his eyes crossed. Then the heat, life, or stasis got to him. Ge farted in the gambling man's direction, and his eyes bulged.
Besides the headache, the scrambled egg memory, and the funny feeling his nose was on fire, Zechs was starting to think they took him out of stasis a little too fast or not fast enough. Maybe a second opinion on the whole "ready to reengage with teh general public" was called for. Or a cup of water.
"If you're looking to get the party started faster, I hear if you down it through the backdoor it gives you a real kick."
1. He wasn't sure how he knew that.
2. He didn't want to know how he knew that.
3. He didn't want to find out if that was true.
4. Why was he making lists in his mind?
5. Surely he had something better to do as he searched one of his pockets for an imaginary lost item.
6. He hadn't figured out what it was he wasn't sure he was missing.
7. That was that.
Then as if the name of the bar held any importance, Zechs felt a little Quark surging up in him. It took the strength of the worst breathe he had ever not known he had smelt to bite down on it and seal it up. The last thing a guy who wasn't sure who he had been needed was to cover a pair of strangers in stranger fluid. Who knew what they had pumped him full of or had he done so himself?
There was only one way to find out. Taste it. And boy he did. Swallowing took even greater strength to catch what little made a mouthy appearance. It turned his face sideways and his eyes crossed. Then the heat, life, or stasis got to him. Ge farted in the gambling man's direction, and his eyes bulged.
Besides the headache, the scrambled egg memory, and the funny feeling his nose was on fire, Zechs was starting to think they took him out of stasis a little too fast or not fast enough. Maybe a second opinion on the whole "ready to reengage with teh general public" was called for. Or a cup of water.
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Zasabi Ray
- Full Member
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- Joined: Mon Aug 26, 2019 1:37 am
Re: SL: 20th Wild Ride on the Rim
It wasn't long before the sauna began to smell rancid. "Sithspit!" Zasabi groaned while waving a hand in front of his face. "Frakking foul man, you can't do that in a sauna! The steam keeps it trapped in here!"
He rose, followed by several others, and walked out with one hand clasped over his nose. He briefly considered wrapping the towel around his face rather than his waist, but decided against it. He'd rather keep his dignity.
Between the steam and the smell, Zasabi didn't see the aqualish until it was too late. A meaty thwack echoed out as the pair collided, naked skin slapping against mottled amphibious flesh. The theelin stumbled back, shaking his head in surprise. "Sorry about that."
"Hey!" grumbled the aqualish with what sounded like a pound of cotton in his mouth. "Watch where you're going! Do you know who I am?"
Zasabi blinked at the sentient, very much not knowing who the tusked figure was. "Should I?"
The aqualish lifted what appeared to be a shining gold chain around his neck with some sort of pendant, revealing red, slightly burnt skin underneath the obviously hot metal. "Does this ring any bells?"
Zasabi blinked again. "Uh... no."
The angry aqualish's lips curled around it's tusks. "That's it, no smartass is gonna get away with offending me. Get him boys!"
A pair of large bipeds rose up from nearby benches, their figures somewhat obscured by the steam. Zasabi lifted up both hands as he stepped away, looking around for his companions and finding that all of them had scattered away. "Never trust gamblers to back you in a fight, I guess," he muttered before tightening his towel.
He rose, followed by several others, and walked out with one hand clasped over his nose. He briefly considered wrapping the towel around his face rather than his waist, but decided against it. He'd rather keep his dignity.
Between the steam and the smell, Zasabi didn't see the aqualish until it was too late. A meaty thwack echoed out as the pair collided, naked skin slapping against mottled amphibious flesh. The theelin stumbled back, shaking his head in surprise. "Sorry about that."
"Hey!" grumbled the aqualish with what sounded like a pound of cotton in his mouth. "Watch where you're going! Do you know who I am?"
Zasabi blinked at the sentient, very much not knowing who the tusked figure was. "Should I?"
The aqualish lifted what appeared to be a shining gold chain around his neck with some sort of pendant, revealing red, slightly burnt skin underneath the obviously hot metal. "Does this ring any bells?"
Zasabi blinked again. "Uh... no."
The angry aqualish's lips curled around it's tusks. "That's it, no smartass is gonna get away with offending me. Get him boys!"
A pair of large bipeds rose up from nearby benches, their figures somewhat obscured by the steam. Zasabi lifted up both hands as he stepped away, looking around for his companions and finding that all of them had scattered away. "Never trust gamblers to back you in a fight, I guess," he muttered before tightening his towel.