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The Sweatshop oozes with excitement and anticipation as the crowd begins to get itself psyched up for the evening's next bout of entertainment. Rather than a fight, the arena has been decked out with a different array of decor, the simple open terrain replaced by a court that is divided down the middle with a line of bright white paint that was definitely not sprayed there to save money.

"BEHOLDDDD," the voice comes a Dug announcer up on a pedestal in the middle of the grandstand, prancing about on his hands while his feet hold the microphone close to his bewattled chin. He's dressed in a tiny bedazzled vest and not much else, but it's unclear what Dug propriety even is so the bounty hunter behind him, a man some might recognize as Tarion Tavers, appears unfazed.

"BEHOLD, the first inaugural round of GLOPBALL!! I am your host, Kardogu! Tonight's competition is sponsored by our generous benefactor, the famous and talented Tarion Tavers! I have been explicitly instructed to specify that licensing opportunities are available! Haha! Imagine that!" The dug chuckles into the microphone, hands carrying him to the edge of the platform. "But enough of that! You're here to see people GET GLOPPED!!"

The crowd erupts, thumping feet against the grandstands. "GLOPPED!! GLOPPED!! GLOPPED!!"

"Wonderful! Wonderful! And now, our contestants!" A foot sweeps down to the arena, and rickety portculis gates raise at either end to admit the competitors, two teams of three players! "Name yourselves! Name your TEAMS! And get ready to GLOP!!" On cue, a pair of tiny droids with camera lens snouts the size of their entire bodies zip down to buzz in the faces of each team, waiting for their answers.

This was likely to end in tears. But when had that ever stopped Nerys? And so, here she was, with her secret weapon, that would be Jax, and her even more secret weapon, that would be Mandl. She was dressed neatly, just a simple black jumpsuit. Her hair was neatly braided and tucked up, the dayglo green band she had been given sparkling brightly against the red of her hair. She might be going down, but she'd go down looking damned good. She flourished a hand at Jax, them at Mandl, "B'rotstorm!" And then, because it might matter, "Nerys Greystorm." Rancor racer, yo!

Mandl *punches* the air, huffing excitedly. Their day-glo green band, on account of its girth, possibly took the festival into the red. But have no fear, alcohol sales immediately pushed the event into the-- the pink! The slightly-less-red! They, too, are outfitted in what is essentially a wrestling-singlet, chomping at the proverbial bit to get in there and *glop!*

Mandl says, "Dr. Mandl B'rot. Explosives expert, hydrocarbon magnate, _and your worst nightmare._"

Cue 'Push It To The Limit'.

The theme of the day was highlighter yellow and Zhu Yan (what a man!) had somehow opted to do the worst thing possible and roll with it. There are three things in life that the Fauxrellian should never, ever wear. They are, in no particular order:

  • Shorts
  • Spandex
  • Tank Tops

Being crammed into one of those one piece high-legged no-collared grabby clingy spandex crimes against fashion from a decade long gone was perhaps yet another crime against sentience perpetuated by the short, chubby smuggler. It did an excellent job of displaying his curves, an enticing body to be sure if you were into 'I eat like a Twi'lek with two mechanical limbs'. Look at that chest hair. Look at that back hair!

There were bulges.

"Oh yeah! Whooh! Let's do this!" Slap! That was Yan's right hand coming into contact with his face cheek. WHUNK. That was Yan's LEFT hand coming into contact with his other face cheek! "Ow!" Right, yes, under that skin there was metal. His headband was firmly affixed to his head, pushing down exactly half of the foof that was a month without a haircut. It wasn't chin-length yet, much to EJ's joy, but it was definitely forcing its way past his ears, much to EJ's anger. As if she didn't need more reasons to be angry, what with /that outfit/.

"My name is Zhu Yan!" erupted Zhu Yan, his name sounding like he was trying not to chew on the sides of his tongue. "And I am here to GLOP all of you motherF-" in the deep savannahs of Uvena Prime, a flock of lothbirds are abruptly startled by a horrible noise belted out from nearly half the galaxy away, sounding awfully like a particularly hostile Ethel Merman, "-RS, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!"

Eriu has found a place with a view, well a half way decent one as an Ithorian keeps swaying his head partially into her view of vision. She leans a little too far to the right to make up for it. The announcer ignored for the small little flask drawn out of her pouch along her hip. She takes a quick drink before capping it and stowing it away once more. Less likely to spill in a crowd like this as she finally pays attention to the ring as the contestants are let out and she contends with the figure beside her getting riled up by the crowd.

"Okay okay," she tries to calm the person beside her, giving his food a once over and while he's too busy punching the air she might just snag a piece of fried squid for herself, pulling it apart and chewing on the pieces. She starts to reach down and rubs her hand on the jacket and stops herself, rubbing the pads of them together instead. She's going to forget one of these times.

Ahhh the arrival of the competitors and Eriu rises up to get a view and then just stares, coughing as she neary chokes on the fried squid. "YOU NEED A HAIRCUT!!!" She cries out, cupping her hands around her mouth.

SPEAKING OF Twi'leks with two mechanical limbs, Hex Ashkuri is here! He's settled his sweatband around the base of his lekku, and he is a sight to behold. Did you know he was in the infantry once, and he was quite fit? That was A LONG TIME AGO now. He's a big, strong man with a build that suggests a warrior who lived long enough to see retirement, and whose life is now fairly easy, and definitely full of beer. It is a prodigious belly and no one has any idea why Kasia is with him, but no one ever has. He is wearing little orange shorts. There is too much leg being shown, and one of them is cybernetic. "My name is Heksash'kuri," he introduces himselves, arms raised high! One of those is cybernetic, too. He has a lot of scars. "That's Hex for all you sa'sinaku who can't say it, ok ka."

Secret Weapon, Jax was no one's secret weapon. The Corellian had his day-glo breen head band on. Then wearing a pair of gray wrestling singlet with a day glow green lighting bolts across his uniform. In the middle of the chest was the name 'B'rotstorm'. He's stalking around his side of the ring flexing and letting out 'WOOOhhhooooo! Styling and Profiling!" Then makes fingers guns at Yan, "I'm Jax Greystorm. The Corellian Thunder! You're going down Yan! You're no Corellian, you're No Corellian at all!"

Zyrette and Khalim arrived a bit late, to watch the game... for reasons. They moved through the crowd, listening to the cat calls of both competitors and audience members. "Would you get us some drinks perhaps?" Zee suggested to Khalim, modulated tones pitched loud enough for him to hear, but not so loud as to rise about the accumulated din. She continued to move through the crowd, staking out a spot from which they could watch.

In a particularly glossy purple leotard and with a team-defining neon yellow headband upon his head stands a human man with a gymnast's build and a bright smile with too-wide eyes. For a moment, squinting, one can imagine this truly is a standard field of athletic competition. Those legs can jump, sure. He does a high-kick with one leg. Maybe he's agile, sure.

But who would wear something so bright and unnecessarily reflective to a true battle of the bodies? "Tarq Najjic is here to say: may the best sapient win!" He throws a thumb back at himself, informing the crowd, "Tarq Najjic /is/ best sapient. Maybe also these two," he waves one hand at Yan and another at Hex. Then for good measure, another high-kick! Oh good - someone thought to wear sub-leotard protective gear. "Go team -" Oh right, name! Blurting out the first word to come to him: "Glitterstim!" That's not so bad, right?

Rheisa ought to be admitting herself to some clinic somewhere by now, but that'd require her to miss seeing her 'pack' mates being splatted with copious amounts of sticky substance. So she's here, moving slow like she's been plowed over in traffic and emitting the occasional spine-rattling cough. It's fine. It'll be fine. The artistic huntress moves with ease through the spectating crowd, seeking out a member of her surrogate Ashkuri fam with a member of her own 'kin' in tow.

"Hekshash'k--" KAK "kuri!!!" Followed by a shrill yeeyeeyeeyeeeeeeeeeeee to let him know his striped nanny-pestcontrol is here.

Kardogu, the Dug announcer in the tiny rhinestone vest, chuckles into the microphone held in one foot as the contestants name themselves. "B'rotstorm? Bloatstorm? Is that supposed to be your team name? Oh, what the hey, let them have their fun! We're here for GLOP!!-shed, not poetry, isn't that right?!" he demands of the crowd, arms straightening as he boosts himself higher from the platform.

"Tell them about the merchandise, you knuckle-dragger," the bounty hunter behind Kardogu hisses through a terse grin before settling into a folding chair with 'GLOPBALL!! General Manager' carefully stenciled onto the backrest in black marker.

"I'm getting to that," the Dug mutters under his breath, plastering his smile back on as he struts out to the end of the stage. "I would be remiss not to mention that each of you can purchase your own commemorative sweatband at the bar. This is the Sweatshop, after all!" Kardogu chuckles dryly again before summoning his biggest, boomingest voice, which happens to be quite impressive. Dugs have that Great Shout energy. "Ladies and gentleman! Who am I kidding, THUGS AND LOWLIVES!"

Delighted, the unsavory crowd roars their approval of this description, shaking the arena, drinks raised in raucous agreement. This place has a full bar, after all.

"Team Glitterstim is here to put a Hex on that Corellian Thunder! Are you ready to GET GLOPPED!!??" Pointing his foot down towards the sidelines, a spindly pit-droid with its dishpan head springs up into life, brandishing a checkered flag definitely not stolen from the podraces on Ryloth, and raises the banner high over the middle dividing line. Along the back row of each competing team's side, three more pit-droids bounce up, waving their adhesive grenades, each painted bright green and yellow in correspondance with the sweatbands.


Khalim breaks away from Zyrette, on a mission for drinks. His attention is a constant shift between contestants, out declaring their family lineage and shoe size, and the surprisingly quick line. It doesn't take long to be at the drink stand. A single serving 'wine in a box' for Zee, a dry white with a little crazy straw, and a bright nuclear orange fizzpop for the Mirialan. On the side, a little sunburst of an orange with the words 'Too sweet to eat'. And then he's heading back to the stands, and handing that little box' o wine to Zee. A quick sip of fusion-powered orange later and he's surveying the field. "So... what's Glopball?"

Umokro follows along coming in after a bit he's late but whatever. He quickly moves to catch up with Rheisa waving to Khalim as he passes by. "Rheisa. I'm right behind ya."

As the game begins and the flag drops. Jax takes up his glop Grenade and pushing the button and launching it at Zhu Yan. The gernade falls short and rolls to the side. It should be noted that Jax's never been to work with explosives. There's a big pop and glue everywhere but nowhere it will do it's job.

"I didn't imagine this sport would have them all leaving so little to the imaginaation," Kasia remarks as she eyes Yan, and also probably her husband. That's a lot of leg. She has a bowl of some kind of snacks she brought from home, opting to not eat anything purchased in this district as the glopping commences. She's dressed nicely as usual, a degree of fancy that doesn't really fit in with this district, but that's just how she operates almost all the time.

The crowd is really going now as all the participants are out and about and Eriu is trying to get a better view of the arena. She shoves the rest of the stolen fried squid in her mouth as Rheisa cheers out not too far away, a grin pulls at her lips. Cleaning her fingers quickly she turns her attention around the arena and spotting Khalim with Zyrette, she lift a hand to give a wave in their direction.

She is just pulling the small flask free of her pouch again when she hears Kasia. A chuckle leaves her lips. "I am not sure how its comfortable. Fabric riding up in all the wrong places."

"Crap, did I miss the start?" David Ironside mutters to himself, rushing into The Sweatshop after wandering around The Night Market for maybe a little too long. Pushing past big 'n' tall spectators, David immediately points at Mandl. "Go get 'em, Doctor B'rot!" he calls out. Do not call attention to his gaudy beer hat. He needs his hands to point at people. Now that he's in the front row, though, he can sit down and bring the drinking straw to his lips.

The horns and flag signify the ascent to glory. Tarq Najjic hauls back with his right arm and with a few steps running start after thumbing the switch, /lobs/ that grenade at Mandl. Towards Mandl. Over Mandl... and past Mandl, where part of the audience is now glopped unless there's a protective shield. Then he squares his weight and bends his knees, staring glop-daggers at his opponents, blinking less often than he really should be, eyeing the grenades with the seriousness one might give an artillery strike - or an actual grenade.

"Get it together, you unfashionable, sunless trampwagon!" This is Hex, yelling at.. Tarq. Both hands spread briefly in a 'what' kind of gesture, like he's shocked Tarq didn't make that throw. "Who raised you?!" he wants to know! "Watch and learn, ai'jou," Hex follows next, yelling all of this over the noise of things like spectators, and Yan. "Ah, goddess, the smell of these things is bringing back some righteously disagreeable memories." He throws his grenade at Mandl!

"It can't be comfortable," Kasia asides to EJ while she eyes Yan in particular, then looks over to Hex. "Not with how tight they ar-- Are those shorts mine?" she asks, though no one beyond she and Hex would know. Her eyes squint a little as she studies the large green Twi'lek trying to determine garment ownership. "It does give them a... memorable look, though. I'm sure that this is something none of us are going to forget anytime soon."

Zyrette spots the wave from Eriu and begins to cut her way through the crowd. She nods to those that are familiar, trying not to step on toes as she passes Umokro and David alike. She finally settles near E.j. and Kasia. Once their spot is staked out, she lifts a talon tipped hand to motion Khalim over. Once he returns to her side, she takes her adult juice box with a raised brow ridge. At his question about Gloop ball she shrugs. "I'm not entirely sure, but it seems, sticky."

Mandl's relatively easy escape from Tarq's attempt is followed ingloriously by falling prey to Hex's grenade, *beaned* and immediately smothered in an envelope of green-- ehm-- fluff? Is it fluffy?

"Umokro," Rheisa waves a hand, in case the montrals weren't enough to track her by. "Is Kasia!" The fancy human's been spotted and Rheisa would be remiss in her duties if she didn't huddle on up alongside to be a stanchion of moral support for Mrs. Ashkuri as she watches and possibly contemplates just how much adhesive she's going to have to scrub off that big, green man.

"Pants is bigger this time than varactyl suit," Dirleel points out as an aside to Kasia's ear with a less than whispery whisper. And breath that reeks of blood. Somebody just had dinner. In a more conversational volume, she introduces "Kasia, is Umokro," and gestures to said man.

"RIGHT!" And here went Zhu Yan! He went... nowhere. He was standing with his feet together, holding the grenade in his fingers with one hand and rubbing the top of it with the other. Then he rubbed it against his leg. Then he started walking. Ignore the spandex trying to move in uncomfortable ways.

Two steps in and it became a slow jog. His arm came up, over, his wrist loose, and with a little hop and a flick of the fingers the grenade was bowled in-line, hitting the pitch about a metre back from Jax's crease. Because, however, the grenade was spinning, it flicked back in-line straight towards where Jax's wicket would be if his leg wasn't in the way. And when it hit, it went GLOP.

"HOWZAAAAAAAAAAAT!" erupted Yan, index finger raised, appealing to the metaphorical umpire. "THINK ABOUT THAT ONE ON YOUR WALK HOME!"

Nerys was not the sort to be throwing things, darnit. She was supposed to be for running away. Alright, alright, alright. She saw the glop grenades go whistling, and Wham! Her first secret weapon goes down, and then Bam! Her other secret weapon, also down. Oh yeah, three against one. She could take them. Or outlast them, one or the other. Or not. "Bring it, Glitterstims!" And then she tossed her own grenade, which, sad to say, sailed wide of her intended target, Hex. It did splash beautifully behind him though. Adding a bit of tasteful decoration to the trash bin that was the Sweat Shop. Still a win!

Umokro sidles up alongside Rheisa and holding his hand out to Kasia. "A pleasure to meet you Kasia. I'm Umokro." Umo says before looking around. "Whats point of the game?" He asks simply with a bright smile.

Kasia twists around in her seat when she hears her name, smiling back at Rheisa and then over to Umokro as the introductions are made. He offers his hand and she takes it for a moment, giving it a gentle shake. "It's nice to meet you, too. Ah. I think the point of the game is general chaos marketed as sport?" The scent of blood is on the air, but it's something that she's grown more accustomed to over the years. She doesn't recoil now, even if she doesn't love it. It's just how things are. "I think I've blocked out the memory of that varactyl suit," she lies, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smile again. The assurances from Eriu earn her a smile as well. "I'm sure you're right." She says the words, but she doesn't sound completely sure. Those shorts could totally be hers.

"OOOOOHHH!" Kardogu howls with each throw of the glop grenades. "OHH! OH!" As Mandl is enveloped in the sticky, foul-smelling foam, he lets out sympathetic "Ohhhh," shaking his head and gesturing to another team of pit-droids. How many of them are there? Three trundle out together, carrying a large scraper, like a giant's spatula, between them, and begin jimmying at the floor under Mandl's foam, all three hanging from the end of the scraper before it finally pops free with a crack.

"And just like that, Dr. B'rot GOT GLOPPED!!" Wild cheers and screams of "GLOP!! GLOP!!" go up around the area, with a Bith fan climbing onto the railing and wailing "Perform computations of genetic compatibility with me, Dr. B'rot!" down at the stuck Mandl as the droids drag the foam-chunk with them inside off the court.

"Oh, and ANOTHER GETS GLOPPED!!" Kardogu realizes as Jax too is suddenly trapped in an expansion of initially-fluffy but soon quite stiff foam. "The Corellian Thunder looks to have been SILENCED by Zhu Yellowman! Only the daring Greystorm remains, floating over the court like heat over the savannah, ready to STRIKE!"

The droids that just finished dropping Mandl off and spraying him free wilt as they realize they will have to run right back out to scrape Jax up next. The others continue to prance around in the backfield, offering out the next salvo of GLOPBALLS!! to their contestants.

Settled next to Zyrette, placing him near Eriu and Kasia - and also presumably Rheisa and Umokro - Khalim offers a quick little grin as the Falleen raises a brow ridge at the box o' wine. The adult juice box. "It was that or a cup. I thought this looked snazzier. Look!" He points. "The straw bends, for your drinking comfort." He can't help the impish little grin that follows before his attention shifts to EJ and Kasia, "Hello and hello." A friendly nod and smile in greeting is offered Rheisa and Umokro. Then... the field. Khalim attempts to make sense of the game, coming to the conclusion that rifling sticky grenades at opposing teams is the beginning, middle, and end of this sport. Which is alright with him! "Hey, Nerys is out there," he points for Zyrette's benefit. "And Tarq. And Ya*..." His eyes glaze over at Yan in yellow form-fitting spandex. He looks to Eriu. "He didn't run the uniform by you, did he."

"You think he runs anything by me regarding fashion choices?" Eriu quirks a brow at Khalim before she half laughs. "I can even guess what I would be okay with but its him out there, not me," she sips from her flask, capping it. Its slid away and she tugs at the jacket about her as if to make a point. "Your man knows how to take are of you," she remarks to Zyrette when she sees the bendy straw.

Kasia gets a grin, "Well if they are at least there will be room to grow into them afterwards for you. Positive?" Yes, she's being positive. She starts to whisper, "Hit him with a glop, need to cut that hair off..." but then Hex lands the last shot and a great deal of hope for the waxing of Yan's head of hair are dashed.

"..Oh." David realizes Mandl's out. The one guy he wanted to get further. And even as he decides he's now going to root for Jax, Jax gets GLOPPED too. "You're all disappointments! Wait til your mother finds out you got GLOPPED!" he calls out. He then sips more beer from the cans affixed to the sides of his head via gaudy hat, which he clearly got from the Night Market a couple of minutes ago, and forgets to cheer more.

Jax was light on his feet and ready to run as the gloop grenade comes landing at his feet. He goes to dodge out of the way but not far enough as the gloop grenade goes off and he is stuck there, it was a sticky wickett after all. He just waits there as he waits to get picked up and solvent applied. He calls out, "She's prepetually disapointed."

Umokro keeps close to Rheisa and Kasia. He watches the game with an enthusiasm and interest his own lekku twitch a bit with his anticipation.

The slender Kuati glares at the droid as it gives him a second glopball. He eyes it warily, raising a finger at it. His lips are moving, but it's quiet enough that his words cannot be heard. He appears to be questioning the glopball's loyalty. Then he thumbs the button once more, winds back, and as though throwing a javelin, takes a several step start and then **lobs** at the sole remaining opposing team member, Nerys!

This is not a javelin, though. It's a glopball. Where the last one sailed onward into the crowd, this one falls short, hardly clearing the no-man's-land between teams before bursting in a useless bit of sticky foam. He points at Hex, opens his mouth, closes it, then with a thoughtful expression, lowers his finger, tilts his head to the side, and nods while shrugging. "Harsh, but is fair."

"You are kind to say so," Kasia remarks to Eriu with the flash of a grin, seemingly accepting the silver lining. She slants a look to the woman beside her, amusement visible on her face. "Do you want me to hold him down so that you can cut his hair? I'll do it. We can even blindfold him so he has no idea who did it."

Zyrette looks around, almost more interested in watching the audience than the players getting glooped in their outrageous outfits. Outrageous save Nerys. As Khalim points her out, Zee nods. "Yes, she looks lovely." As if that were the point of gloop ball. "Oh no.. Poor Dr B'rot." She bemoans softly, before returning to her audience watching.

She spots David again, and has to do a double take. She tries to shout over the crowd. "Master Ironside, what -is- on top of your head?!"

Zee's focus returns to her won group, as she sips from her own sippy cup. Emerald lips twitch at the corners at Eriu's observation. "I have to admit, it is sort of..fun?" And takes another sip of her adult juice box. She glanced aside at Kasia, giving a polite nod.

Nerys did not much like her chances, no she did not, but she was here and she would play to win for as long as she could plan. She held her ground, trying to gauge which of the opposing team would throw first. It was the stringy one first, and Nerys dodged to the side, the grenade bouncing away to glop somewhere behind her before she pushed back up to her feet. And now, her nemesis (don't worry, only when they were in the glopball ring) and Hex's grenade hit the mark, exploding against her right shoulder. But it was enough, and the foam exploded around her, a pillowy blue cloud, that somehow managed to make her hair look even more amazing. Still a win!

"New ball new ball new ball..." Yan was chanting, scrambling about for another shiny orb of colonialism. By the time he turned around, he'd heard another GLOP and... it was over? It was over! "YES!" roared the Fauxrellian, punching the air like it owed him money. Now he was doing some sort of shadowboxing. Now he was gyra...

Actually it's best if we don't go into detail about that.

"Hex! Lil tweaker dude! Bring it in!" And now he was running at Hex. Was he going to tackle him? Cuddle him? Do a man-bump off the bellies? Oh no. OH NO!

Umokro nods his head. "Very messy. Battlefields I've been on much messier and smellier than this." He says nodding to Rheisa. "Though hunting can be messy too yes?"

"I would not be opposed to it but I am pretty sure he has a clear idea of who is behind it. Though I admit there would be a certain sense of satisfaction if I was holding the scissors," Eriu points but can not help but grin at the idea. "I am still holding out something will go horribly wrong an dI will HAVE to cut his hair because he will be glued together. He has yet to leave the arena." Stranger things have happened.

She glances once more to the bendy straw. "It is the epitome of perfection. Easy to drink. Easy to use." She nods, giving Khalim a look of approval.

"Oh no..." this is heard the moment Yan starts running at the other two. "We both need a drink after this." Said to Kasia.

"Thugs and lowlives, I can barely believe what I'm seeing," Kardogu announces over the PA, despite the fact that this is the first time anyone has ever played GLOPBALL!! and there are no precedents whatsoever. "There is just ONE competitor left on team bloat- I mean, B'ROTstorm." By now, the droids have managed to prise Jax free from the court and similarly drag his foam-cell over to the sidelines, the crusty encapsulation scraping over the arena's resurfaced floor. Again, the competitor is drenched by a second, equally-gnarly smelling substance in the form of a solvent that frees him from his gloppy prison.

Moments later, the crowd gasps as Nerys is hemmed in by Tarq's throw and subsuquently creamed by Hex's. "OH, sweet circling moons of !! The tubby Twi'lek has DONE IT! GREYSTORM GOT GLOPPED!!"


"Someone get that woman some solvent! Maybe we should sell glop as hair product, I have a feeling that could start a new rage!" the Dug chuckles, rolling onto his knuckles and then back to his fingertips as he stands there on his arms. What a weirdo.

The twin camera droids circle wildly around the arena, zooming in on Team Glitterstim now, literally. They don't have zoom, they just get right in people's faces. "Ladies and gentleman, thugs and thieves, boys and girls over the age of majority, we have our CHAMPIONS! I am compelled to remind you," Kardogu continues, beady eyes twinkling, "That commemorative Sweatbands are for sale at the Sweatshop Sweatband Shop, a place I like to call 'the bar'." Then he raises one foot high in the air, or as high as his physiology allows, at least. "Give it up for TEAM GLITTERSTIM!"

As the arena rumbles with applause and a few powercells thrown down at the contestants, the pit-droid trio rushes out again, spatula at the ready, and begins the process of flipping Nerys's glop!! over easy.

Kasia turns to see Khalim and his bendy draw and drink. "I think we've got a few of those, too. They're popular in our home." Whether it's popular with Hex or Boon she doesn't add. "You know..." Her voice drops a little as she leans in closer to Eriu. "You could bribe Tarion to throw a grenade at him, he's got to be around here somewhere since he's sponsoring this thing. I bet you if you approached him and offered hima bonus to do it, he could make it happen. Or try to make it happen." It's not that she actually wants to cut Yan's hair, but it's pretty fun to conspire against him whether or not the plan happens. She spots Zyrette and gives her a brief smile as well. "Nice to see you."

David peers up, losing interest in the game as fast as people are getting glopped. "Good thing this game was free." he mutters, waving at Zyrette who is yelling at him and refusing to use his first name again. "Beer hat!" he calls back, pointing excitedly at it. "Keeps my hands free to.. uh.. point at my beer hat!" he explains.

Did someone say drink? Half a bottle of fermented milk is proffered then, between the two human ladies, courtesy of Rheisa. She's only had a few sips from earlier, so not too many cooties, right?

  • Coughwheeze*SLOSH*

The sudden announcement of the game's end sends Rheisa's fists in the air and thus, too, goes the milk.

Whatever Tarq was expecting Yan to say, 'bring it in' was not it. He eyes the 'Corellian,' turning his head to the side so that any eye he gives him is of the side variety. "What?" Yan is running towards Hex, and - well. It's visible as a light bulb when Tarq decides indulging those whose coattails he's ridden to victory is just good sportsman. He immediately straightens and runs towards Hex - which means running after Yan, looking for some clue as to what team-building exercise is about to ensue.

Wait, no, they're way bigger than Tarq, this won't end well. He stands back to let nature take its bouncy, bumper-car-of-jello course.

There's a moment of crowd cheer, and Khalim's attention is drawn back to the arena. The announcer is yelling something about glitterstim. The Mirialan looks across to Zee, a funny little quirk of a smile plasted upon green lips, and he shakes his head. "Not today," he laughs. Kham really has no idea what's going on, but crowds, friends, Nerys's on point hair, Yan's tear-producing yellow spandex. What a day. He leans in for a bendy-straw sip of Zyrette's adult juice box. "That's very high quality," he lies. A grin back to Eriu and Kasia as he adds to their conversation, "But Yan just /had/ a haircut. How are any of us going to recognize him?"

Zyrette continued to watch the audience. a few folks down but still in their little group she spotted Rheisa. She lifted a hand to the rough cut natural stone earrings piercing the thing ridge of cartilage around her ear holes. She leaned into Khalim, pitching her voice to an audible volume "Oh Look, Khalim, that's Rheisa Dirleel, the artist that made my earrings."

Zee smiled briefly, but sincerely at Eriu, "Would you like one? I'm sure Khalim won't mind...?" Zee continued to offering Kham's services. She paused to smile at Kasia and David, but anything she might have said gets interrupted.

"Wait, is it over, did someone win?"

Oh! This was nicer than she thought it would be. Pit droids carrying her off like some noblewoman on a palaquin? Carefully tending to her while they tried to unglop her? If it wasn't for the smell, this would be just as awesome as that time a jedi sent her flying through the air like a feather towards a ships hold (you had to be there). All in all, not a bad way to end the day. Once she was free, she piped up, "How much for one of these pit droids?"

Hex is not a hugger. He is NOT a hugger. There was a proud little moment of strutting about in victory, but it's short lived as he faces this NEW PERIL, which is Tarq and Yan coming in for HUGS. "No! No, noooo, no no no! Do not touch me!" Hex warns them. He's trying to escape, but also making threats just in case. "I'll punch you in the face, Yan! I will do it!"

Bex Bryl waddles in with the crowd of cheering people and gazes around with his usual wide-eyed gaze. There is nothing to say, for now at least, and the tubby Sullustan just pushes through the crowd with a smile beneath his dewflaps as he looks for what he can find amongst the raucous crowd.

Zhu Yan was a scrappy little man stuffed in the frame of a man who loved his burgers. He could move fast when the situation demanded. Stopping, however, was a different matter entirely. Not having calculated just how well Hex could dodge (and in fact being terrible at mathematics) Yan skidded past, scrambled on his feet, tripped over his own ankle, and landed belly-first on the horribly sticky floor. There was a loud groaning sound, then the complaint of, "It's just like Takodana!" He looked up, face all squished together in annoyance, turned his head to look above him, and made an observation. "No gold-skin quack doctors this time though!"

"Fight! FIGHT! FIGHT!" The crowd quickly and easily embraces the suggestion that Hex might punch Zhu Yan, while Kardogu grins down at Nerys from the announcer's stand. "I'm sure something can be arranged, for a reasonable fee." The Dug glances towards the man in the nondescript grey armor behind him and shrugs. Tarion shrugs back, then steps up to the edge. "These are genuine pit-droids, they're easily worth a few hundred thousand each!" he calls down to Nerys, "but it's possible we can work something out."