Solar Star Casino & Bar

[Jak Bexel]

"Dealer's choice, I suppose," he smirked at Kyr. "Good chance for you to win some back for the team."

He was referring of course to the very public tug of war between Pirates and the Imperials' resource shippings. He had credits stashed under his bed thanks to the unfortunate circumstances that generally befell every poor schmuck in space who had cargo and an officer's cap. It was the nature of the game, a code of misconduct super-ceding present company, and they were never going to break that wheel. If he lost his shirt, at least he could trust Kyr to deliver the ring to his brother.

As Jak followed his Zabrak friend to the table in question, it dawned on him that the characters involved were a good deal beyond basic comprehension, or as some people call it nackered, or as Jak called it, rip torn. That, or this was an elaborate ploy to establish confusion before they swept the board. Either way he was woefully behind. He took a long sip of his drink, draining it dry, before trying to catch Sal's lucky waitress with a 500cc note between his fingers. She scoffed and took off to the main exit. Baffled but unphased, he reached out to the nearest waitress and ordered a bottle of whiskey, a six-pack of Schav's Gran Lager and a pack of long, rainbow-wrapped xativa-laced cigarillo blunts aka Starweird Specials.

By the time they reached the table, he had the six pack under one arm and a bottle in the other, the rainbow blunts stuffed in his breast pocket.

[Zechs Merquise]

A lady came over to him. Someone popped up out of nowhere. There was a game, but there wasn't. Then there was a lot of drinks. Then they were gone. It kind was all a blur that wouldn't stop moving. It was really getting hard to keep up with it all, and he should know. He used to buzz around explosions. Explosions at least were polite enough to make a quiet point. This was starting to hurt his head.

He tired to look at the lady who's face looked familiar in the way half of all faces did. Time had not been kind to his eyes, and neither did the drinks. "I used to be an Admiral. I used to be a Prex. I think I was almost a mother." He smacked his lips as if parched.

Just before he could spit anything else out, he took the two drinks Sal mystically offered him and threw them back. The taste of last week's breakfast slipped back into whatever depths it clawed itself out of. "Tanks you, good door." This wasn't a good day. It was weird. He should have worn a diaper.

The table soon called to him as whatever was going on went on around him. It begged him to give it some loving attention. He heard Sal speak, but he swore his voice was coming from the table. How was he supposed to know anybody? He wasn't anybody anymore. He wasn't even sure if this was even real. Was the table turning plaid, or was it just him? In fact, when did Sal grow an extra nose?

Zechs stared the table down and slurred his words more than words could slur. "I don't know. Why do I always have to come up with the answers? Why can't someone else come up with the plan?"

He took the table's advice and laid his head on it. Its sticky surface felt like home. A cozy bed that just took him away to a place where all of this somehow made less sense. But... He really should have worn a diaper. His mouth needed one.

[Lady Kota]

He'd gotten drunk as well as the other man she didn't know, then two more appeared from out of the air and just started invading the table. She didn't know what was going on but she wanted no part of this mess. Quietly she just slipped away from them, she didn't want to get involved in such a mess. Besides there were more tables to enjoy herself with.

However perhaps it was better for her to retire for the night. She had a room at a hotel next to the casino, it would be there she would head for a quiet night alone. It was probably for the best, because who knew how that mess at the table was going to end. She was not the type to stick around to find out.

[Jade Rancorfang]

OOC: Will step out of this one, sorry for holding it back.