Log:Sar Yavok Ruins Everything
It really isn't the most happening night at The Blue Light. There's a lean armored fellow sitting at the bar, doing a really poor job of chatting up one of the local ladies. He's telling some rousing story that is likely embellished, but seems to involve a lot of gesturing with his hands, and complicated manuevers being described sloppily with gestures here and there. He looks a little sloshed, and is talking very loudly. "Well, I swung in on this Rodian piece of shit, and walked my fire right up his Headhunter. Poof. Dead greenskin."
The bleached blonde who's seen better days looks unimpressed. "You going to pay me, or what? I don't do freebies, old man." A sigh, and Gren looks defeated. He shifts on his stool, glances toward the door, looks back at the pro, and frowns. "You really could use some work on your sales pitch, lady." And all around them, the bar continues to hum.
Uli Gosse likes busy bars. It's not because he's a social butterfly, because he's not - but a lot of bodies pushing by in a confined, dark space makes an ideal hunting ground. The good thing about coming out to hunt in a bar and finding your grounds a little sparse is, well, you can still have a drink. The young man enters, hands in the pockets of a a beat-up brown leather bomber jacket. To anyone who bothers to pay attention to him, he's just a guy - a blonde human of no impressive height. He leans on the bar, leans in and mumbles, "Can I get an ale? Whatever's cheapest and tastes the least like piss." He's got an accent that suggests he's from somewhere off the beaten path. He swallows his vowels a bit.
Ruto Lowsyk is a big man - well, a big alien. At eight feet tall he may have to duck under the door, which he's almost as wide as. A blaster hangs in a cross draw holster across his hips, with a leather pouch on a sling acround his chest. He's talking with Stavros, who he comes in with, and perhaps others! "No, no," he insists. "You put your knuckles under, like this," he shows the other man on Stavros's fist as they walk. "And turn your wrist. You throw your hips into it. Yeah? You gotta learn to walk before you run, Stav."
Stavros Niarkos tries the practice gesture, an uppercut while he's walking. It looks like what it is: a terrible play-acting reenactment of actual physical violence. "Ruto, we go together," he says as he lowers his fist, with a wry smile. "If I haven't killed them by the time they get that close," the Zeltron taps the blaster pistol at his hip, "I'll just watch you work and shoot anyone who tries to get away." He claps the whiphid on the arm and goes towards Gren at the bar. "Hey there. Lookin' sour. Need another drink?" He isn't looking where he's stepping too tell, and will bump into Uli Gosse unless the man reacts quickly enough.
Sabella Lockheart has wandered around the place a bit on her own, though now she is meeting up with the others in the bar. She is humming a faint une to herself while making her way on through the door, a glance is sent around before she catches sight of Gren and the rest so is moving that way. She lifts a hand to brush a bit of hair from her face and is on waving at the ones there. "Hey guys." Is offered with her normally friendly tone, smile included.
Gren doesn't know Uli, and his eyes sort of slight right over the unknown man, but they do settle on Ruto and Stavros, and finally onto Sabella. He glances at the working girl, and waves a hand, shooing her away...making clear she isn't getting any coin from him, tonight. There is a clearing his throat, and he turns more fully on the stool to face his faction-mates, and friends. "Aye. I can always use another drink, friend. Two, even." A toothy smile from the old Rebel, and his eyes trail to Ruto...he greets him with a nod, and a smirk. "Can you believe that shit, old man? I just got turned down. You remember how it used to be? I couldn't walk into a bar without being hip deep in the local trim? Everyone used to love a bloody freedom fighter." He scowls, and only lightens it, because he just can't find it in him to scowel at Sabella. "Hi, lass. I've got your drinks for the night. Wanted to thank you with the help on the Last Call. Could use even more, getting her back as sharp as her old glory days."
Being bumped in to is a godsend for someone in Uli's line of work. He's not one to waste an opportunity. He turns, calls out, "Hey!" to Stavros, and gives him a little nudge back. "Watch where you're going, man. It's not even crowded in here." A very, very keen eye might notice that he shoves with his right, where his left remains down by his hip. It's not back or up like one might expect if he were guarding himself from being rammed in to.
"Major," says the Whiphid with his gravelly, bass filled voice and a smile - even around those sharp teeth and those nasty looking tusks. He moves to the bar, nodding to Gren, "It's true," he tells the professional. "I once saw him get a shot at a general's wife," he says as he leans against the bar. "Of course, he was drunk at the time, so I had to step in before he made a career limiting move but ... yes. Granted, that was twenty years ago, before the grey hair set in..." Humor there, in his voice. A glance at Stavros, and a grin. "You need to learn hand to hand. I'm going to put a training regimen together for the major and his XO. Otherwise, we won't have consistency." A grin at Sabella, waving a three-thick-fingered hand (with nasty claws) at her. "Evenin'," he booms, before his gaze turns to Uli. His head tilts, as he leans his weight a bit. "Friend," his voice rumbles at Uli, pointing. "C'mere."
Stavros is completely oblivious the second touch as he waves to Sabella, but he feels the push. "What're you complaining about?" he asks, with a winning smile, as he gets a fizzy purple drink from the bartender. "You got to touch me. That's worth something, right, sailor?" He favors Uli with a wink and a sip. Then, "It's no trouble, Ruto, really. Sabella, you've -got- to try this." And he passes the drink towards her, holding it out beneath her nose.
Danner quietly walks in, looking at the bar sile on her face wide eye look, just taking in the new place. She doesn't say anything moves through a few people to find herself a seat. She's is a little excited.
Sabella Lockheart takes over a seat near the three and smiles to Gren, a nod seen. "Sure. I'd be happy to lend a hand in helping get 'er all fixed up. As long you help, repairng things I done just need to explain things would be helpful and so froth." Well how many people her age has worked on such a ship. She glances over to Uli as both Ruto and Stavros have called some attenton to the other, as for Ruto's claws and well fangs she doesn't seem bothered by them. "Oh yeah, what is it?" She questions and moves tot ake hold of the glass and take a slight sniff from it. Out of the whole crew is the the one that drinks that least so is always a bit unsure about just drinking things.
"You spilled my drink," Uli counters to Stavros. He indicates his cheap, crappy ale and the bit of sloshed head that ended up on the bar. "I'm a man on a budget and you made me lose a whole mouthful." He lifts his chin. If it was the red man's intention to throw him off his game, it doesn't seem to be working. There's a challenging look in his eyes, that shirks away a bit when he realizes Ruto is talking to him. He clears his throat. "Sorry, I don't do coat trims, if that's what you're going to ask. I would suggest maybe down the road? They paint nails too." He holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers. The more he talks, the more 'non-core' is obvious in his accent.
Delede keeps an eye on what is happening between Stavros and Uli, but he doesn't say anything in that direction. It isn't his issue, yet. Instead, he focuses on replying to Ruto, and Sabella. "Aye. You kept me from laying a prime piece of ass....and see where it got me? Still got the boot in the first round of officer cuts, during the disarmament. That could've been a night to remember. Instead, the old crusty Whip to the rescue." A faux scowl, and his attention returns to Sabella. "Aye, lass. I'll show you what I can. I'm not engineer, though. But I know my baby. And don't worry...you're too young for me to hit on. Pretty though. Shame I'm not about five years younger, isn't it?" A wink, and he takes a sip from his whiskey.
"The major also learned not to lay where he gets eggs, so to speak," rumbles the WHiphid to Sabella with a grin. A glance at Stavros and the big furred one peers down at Uli. "Did you take something from him?" he rumbles in his bass, gravelly voice at the smaller man. "Here," he says as he reaches for his pouch and pulls some credits out, "Two drinks, on me. But lemme see your pockets, young man."
Danner pulls out her datapad from her backpack and starts looking through it, and looks up nervously when she's asked what to order. 'Um, um, ah um ya something good, oh um just water I guess for now." she says totally failing."
"It's a Blushing Zeltron!" Stavros tells Sabella, his smile widening. If Zeltrons blushed, maybe they would go purple. Odds are good very few people can confirm that. "It's sweet and has good kick. Here, take it," he says, pushing the drink into her hands, and turning to deal fully with Uli and Ruto. "Ruto, I don't know what you're used to, but asking people to turn out their pockets is generally a bad idea on Nar Shaddaa. They don't always want to show you." He gets another purple fizzy drink. "And you don't always want to know." He glances down the bar at Danner. To the bartender, he slips a few credits, gestures to the twi'lek, and says, "She looks like she wants a Blushing Zeltron, doesn't she?" The bartender prepares yet another. "Hi!" Stavros's desire for everyone to get buzzed and happy is transparent.
Sabella Lockheart blinks as she hears Gren, and glances to him slightly at that. "Ah.. well... Thanks?" Is questioned with a bit of an almost nervous tone, speaking of bluhsing drinks she is actually blushing a bit. She does smile to Gren though. "Well you know more about the ship then I do. I can figure stuff out, but would be nice to have a bit more information you know?" A glance is sent over to Ruto and she chuckles a bit. "I'm not surprized." As for Stavros she glances back to him, and the drink and chuckles. "Wait... Do Zeltron's blush?" This questions before she will take a sip ofthat drink, and it has a good kick enough to mak her cough even, though she is attempting to keep up with that converation between Ruto and the Uli fella.
"Unless you've got a badge pinned to your coat, I don't have to show you my pockets. My pockets, my business," says Uli to Ruto. He extends his arms and puts his shoulders back. There's something...cocky about his body language, like he's asking to get hit. "I'm also not a big fan of being accused. He ran into me," He thumbs towards Stavros, then sips from his crappy beer. He watches the bright drink of Stavros' get passed from the bartender. "I bet there's more sugar in that than booze." He's usually a pretty observant guy, but given he's being (rightly) accused of thievery, his attention is on his victim and his muscle.
Danner looks over to the Stavros and smiles. 'What is a Blushing Zeltron?" she asks him curiously. She grins and nods to him. 'Hello, nice to meet you." she offers her slender blue hand. She is very polite after all, her parents did raise her well. She totally is a fish out of water here.
Ruto Lowsyk eyes the other man, thoughtful. Then Stavros, then Uli. His credits are swiped up by the bartender, to look to Uli to ask what he wants to drink. "So you're good Stav?" confirms the 8 foot tall Whiphid - standing/looming over Uli, not quite in his personal space but there at least. "I didn't see it exactly but something was too convenient there. Back on Coruscant, you know the local scumbags used to bump into new privates all the time and take their cash. Big problem. We had to attitude correct more than a few of them. "If you're good Stav I'm good," he decides after one last glance at Uli."
"Ruto. We don't take no for an answer. We're war heroes. You asked him a question, make him answer. You're twice his bloody size." Gren interjects from his place on the sidelines. Always the instigator. He looks back to Sabella, and nods. "I'll teach you what I can. Sabella. I've got some old holos, and all her old schematics, still. I want to restore her to her prime condition...she saw me through too many fights, and killed too many Imps to let her look like she does now." A small smile flickers across his stubbly face. "Fly over a girl's house in that little ship, and she wouldn't leave you alone." Old people are suspectible to nostalgia, and he has found himself buried in it.
"It's fine," Stavros reassures his furry companion. It might be less fine when he tries to close his tab with a credit pouch he no longer possesses. But he doesn't know that. "Chill," the Zeltron advises Uli. "If he wanted you dead you probably already would be. And he's not alone." To the blue-skinned twi'lek, he explains, "It's a drink. Tastes sweet, but it's really strong. Drink slow." He doesn't seem to be drinking at all slowly himself. Three-fourths of his beverage has found its way through his lips, despite all of his talking. "It's a joke, kind of," he continues, to Danner. "Most people consider us a little ... shameless. It's a terrible stereotype." His smile is wide and shows most of his teeth. "I'm Stavros. What's your name?"
Sabella Lockheart clears her throat a bit while eyeing the glass slightly. "Not bad... Bit strong." She murmurs before glancing to Gren and nods. "They those would be super helpful, so yeah you have them and I can go from there. Get her back flying strong for certain." A glance is sent back to Ruto and Uli, watching the pair a few moments as she takes a bit of a sip from that glas.
"I don't want any trouble," not really true, "I just wanted to have my crap beer in peace." Also...not true. But Uli manages to say it and make it seem at least somewhat convincing. He keeps his eyes on Ruto, then lifts his beer to his mouth. Sllllllurp. What Gren says makes him tense a little bit, and swallow a little bit harder. Still, he tries to look innocent. He...doesn't have a face that lends itself to innocence.
"Bartender, get him whatever he wants, two drinks," says Ruto as he eyes the smaller Uli. A glance at Stavros and he wraps a huge furry arm around the Zeltran with a girn. "Alright. Alright." He turns to Uli, "Make good choices, young man. I'll be outside. 'm gonna go burn some tobbac and check the perimeter." He digs into his pouch and pulls out several credits, tossing several onto the bar, "Bartender, drinks on me. Watch this one," he jerks a thumb at Gren, "Around loose women and officer's wives." He shoves a cigar into his mouth and tromps outside to get his tobacc on.
Somewhere, somehow, the illustrious and dangerously attractive Zhu Yan's two-girls-are-drinking sensor had gone into overdrive. Of course being a completely unconscious and to be perfectly honest entirely made up feeling, he found himself wandering into the Blue Light District on Nar Sha... wait, it wasn't a district. The Blue Light BAR on Nar Shaddaa. Lights, districts, all the same to him. Moving on. He pushed through the door and took a look around, flashing a knowing smirk to, well, mainly himself, but his eyes caught on to what was going on and he thought, well, a man could get used to this. With the swagger of a man who thinks he's invulnerable, Zhu Yan made his way towards the bar. "Corellian Brandy. Not the expensive stuff. Not the cheap stuff either, yo." Awfully specific.
Gren scowls, as Ruto tells the bartender to keep an eye on him. That isn't much fun. As the Whipid heads out, there is a sigh, and Gren stands. He smiles at Sabella. "I have to hit the head. I'll be back in a few. Stay safe, and don't let your drink out of your sight. There are some real creep in this bar." The pilot's eyes shoot to Stavros, because never trust a Zeltron...and then he downs the rest of his most recent drink, and starts to stagger toward the bathroom. He does eye Uli as he passes, and says..."He could've broken you in half. Just be glad you aren't wearing a uniform that goes with that accent, kid." And he continues to sway his way toward the can. And sorry, Sabella. He doesn't return this time, either.
"See? He's a good guy," Stavros says to Uli. "Shots! One of those drinks is a shot! An Early Riser! Get me one too, and this lovely human, and this charming twi'lek, and Gren- Gren?" He looks over at the pilot. "The old-timer can't hold his water. All right, I guess that's it, then-" The bartender is soon serving up four shots. These drinks have fumes that is extremely pleasant - possibly more pleasant than the shot itself. He holds up his, ready to touch the glass to anyone else's - and when Zhu Yan's brandy is served up, he takes the liberty of tapping his glass against the brandy glass, too, grinning at the man in the bomber jacket.
Sabella Lockheart hums and glances over to Gren and looks to her drink slightly. "Even one from people I know?" Yeah she is totally to trusting isn't she? "Right right." Is offered as she sips at her drink anyway. A curous glance is sent to Stavros and the 'shot' while she eyes slightly, that warning frm Gren is tossed outhe window while she picks it up. "So... It's called an Early Riser? Smells goo I have to say."
Oh dear! Zhu Yan had been cheers'd! When one is cheers'd, one did not put their glass down until they'd drank from it! But no, Zhu Yan was not the kind of man for a mild display of appreciation. Not when the word BOMBASTIC was in his dictionary! "Salut!" he called out as he raised his glass in the air dramatically, as though saluting the great big god of drinking in the sky in honour, before drinking his not-cheap-not-expensive brandy as one drinks a shot. The man can certainly party.
Something about Gren's comment seems to have rankled Uli a little bit. He bites the edge of his lip and inhales sharply. But, he's not one to let these things telegraph on his face for long. Shots are a nice distraction, though. He eyes Stavros with a hint of suspicion. "It's usually my policy to not let non-humans choose my drinks. I once drank something that made the walls melt. Another time, I passed out after one sip. A friend of mine had her lips expand, like..." he pulls a hand out in front of his mouth and unfolds his fingers in a blooming gesture, eyes wide. "She looked like a sort of...fish, you know?" He grins wryly, and despite all of that, slams the shot back like a pro after the appropriate cheers-ing. And now that the giant scary hairy man has stopped looming over him, he takes a moment to take stock of the other people around.
"Stavros!" shouts Sar as he steps through the door of the establishment. Seems he's fuming a little bit. The commander closes the distance between himself and the Zeltron and stares holes into the man, asking, intensely, "Did you go fuckin' around with the service elevator? Damn thing's even worse off than before!"
Sabella Lockheart glances over to Uli as he knocks back that shot that Stavros has bought for them. She ponders a moment before downing the shot herself, must be the right way to go right? There is a moment and sheis coughing rather hard at the burning feeling in her throat, totally on fire! Hearing Sar's voice doesn't help matters while she gag a touch. "What the bloody heck was in that?!" She half squeaks out to Stavros.
And it was with sudden shock that Zhu Yan was not drawing the attention to himself. For someone had bellowed for someone else! What is it with all the old guys yelling things around here? Maybe their hearing was going. That had to be it. Still, the spacer was standing like an idiot with empty glass to mouth, so with a quiet cough he turned and sat down at the bar. "Another, please," he said to the bartender, suddenly less interested in making a scene and more in watching the impending scene play out.
It's shortly after Sar's boisterous arrival that yet another person slips in, though Kasia doesn't put on quite so much of a show. She has, apparently, visited this bar before, often enough that a few people get smiles, or waves here and there, but it's toward Sar and the others that she moves.
Stavros is downing his own Late Riser - so named for when you wake up the morning after - when an angry man bursts into the bar shouting his name. His gun is in his hand in moments, though being left-handed, it is awkwardly on the wrong side to shoot his boss in the face. He twists to better bring it to bear, letting out a deep breath when Sar gets in his face. Somehow the shouting, angry, armed man is better than what he expected. "Don't _do_ that, Sar!" Sabella's question is lost on him in the heat of the moment. He slides his blaster pistol back into its holster. "I almost shot you. Don't trigger the instinct!" He plays back Yavok's words after a few seconds. "How can it work less? It already didn't move, even when I connected a few of the wires in the control box. Here, you need a drink. Make this man a human-friendly cafe and lactose and brandy," he tells the bartender. "Not that he's likely to be human-friendly himself," he says, pulling a pack of cigarillos and tapping it once to loosen them. "Hey," he says to no one in particular, and everyone around him: "You got a light?"
More friends of the man he pickpocketed and a commotion is Uli's cue to exit. He finishes his drink, pays his tab very discreetly, then starts to back away. He doesn't say goodbye to anyone. Is that rude when he never introduced himself? In any case, the pickpocket slips out, perhaps jamming his shoulder against one or two marks as he goes. Hey, a guy's gotta make a living.
"Pull that blaster on me again and I'll vent your pretty little head, Pinky," Sar says with a glare, hands moving to loop through his gunbelt. "And the goddamn hydraulics are shot to hell now!" He grumbles again and quickly plucks the cigarillo from Stav's fingers, moving to light it and have a seat at an empty table, giving Kasia a pat on the head as he passes.
Danner blinks a moment with all the blasters puling, I mean she heard stories but she didn't expect to see this sorta thing on her first day. She tries not to freak out, looking at her Datapad, maybe people wont notice you. That's a good Danner, good Twi'lek, yep just focus on your work.
Sabella Lockheart coughs a bit more, and doesn't seem worries about the blaster getting pulled. "Come on now, play nice and suc." She offers with that stil squeaky tone. A glance is sent after the fleeing (?) Uli and she ponders before glancing after Sar and sakes her head a bit. She sips at he drink that Stavos had first gave her while peering over to Zhu curious like. "So... What you drinking?" Might as well find out, right? Course right!
Though Kasia's hair is pulled back and styled relatively simply, she's quick to try and dodge the hand that threatens the neatness of her hair, her own hand lifting to try and deflect Sar's. "My hair is fine, thank you," she remarks, trying to give Sar a sour look, but only manages mildly grumpy at best, and even that is quick to soften into something more pleasant. Her gaze turns to Stavros, and now a small smile appears. "If you do decide to shoot at him, give me some warning and I'll make sure I'm well out of the way."
Oh my god it was just like Zhu Yan's favourite episode of that show on the Holonet that he occasionally watched but never learned its name! Something to do with angry elevator repairmen. Regardles, a distraction had presented itself. The good looking lady he'd OF COURSE spotted earlier asked him what he was drinking. Now it was like one of Zhu Yan's other favourite things. "Corusca gem infused fire whiskey from the heart of Malachor Five. Completely illegal anywhere closer to the core than Yavin," he absolutely and blatantly lied, with a cheeky smirk on his face that really put the nail in the coffin of any thoughts of truth to his statement.
Stavros taps out another cigarillo, searches his pockets, frowns, and finds his lighter. He lets the flame burn the tip evenly as he takes a draw. When the mug of what amounts to a latte with brandy thuds onto the bar, he puts a few credits down as a tip. "Thanks. 'Scuse me." The Zeltron picks up the mug and heads over to Sar Yavok's table, setting the mug about a foot in front of the older man so that the pleasant smell of it will be unavoidable. Then he grabs a chair across from him, flips it backwards, and flops down onto it, resting his elbows on what generally supports one's neck. A few moments pass, and he takes his cigarillo between two fingers, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "I'm sorry, sir," he says in a low voice. "I didn't think I could make it any worse." The recurring scene of the apologetic youth trying to make amends with his elder continues: "I know a few mechanics who could do us a solid and put this at the top of their list. They're both good. Married," he rolls his eyes. Who gets married, seriously? "And they squabble like it, but they get it done. Might even do it cheaper?" he says, his voice wheedling.
Sabella Lockheart ohs softly as she hears Zhu, she seems curious about it to say the least. "I see... We'll I'll just have to take your word for that." She offers with a smile and slightly nod as if agreeing with that there comment. When it comes to drinks she knows little to nothing about them! A glance is sent after Stavros and she shakes her had a moment, a wiggle of a wave is even sent to Kasia once catching sight of her. Though her gaze does turn back to Zhu. "I'm Sabella by the way."
Kasia answers that little wave from Sabella with a smile and slight nod, and then turns to make her way to an empty table. She settles into a seat, both hands smoothing the material of her skirt over her knees before they fold in her lap.
"Zhu Yan," said Zhu Yan. "Yan is the first name." It was said with a rumble and dramatically rolled eyes that indicated that Yan had to say that sentence every time he introduced himself to someone. It was a name that absolutely did not match his face. "So what do you do, Sabella? Are you an elevator repairman like the other guys?" the spacer asked, nodding slightly towards where the Zeltron and the old man with hearing difficulties were sitting. Was he joking? Was he being serious? His expression was that same enigmatic smirk.
After a few more low words, Stavros rises and comes back to the bar, subdued. "I'm going to close out," he announces. He reaches for one of his more accessible credit-purses. It's not there. He checks all his pockets, like he did to find his lighter. He reaches for a cache he keeps hidden, pays his tab, and with a slight smile for Sabella and Kasia, he heads for the door, crushing out his cigarillo before stepping outside.
Sabella Lockheart looks a bit amused while peering over at Zhu. "Oh... I see, well met and all that such Yan." The talk of a elevator repairman makes her pause and she ohs a touch. "Nope, I'm a mechanic. I works on their ships and the like instead." She ponders while tapping a finger upon the bar. "Though I bet I could take a look at it, has wires and such like everything else." A glance i sent over to Stavros along with a slight wiggle of a wave seeing how he is on his way out it seems. "What sort of thing do you call a job?" This questioned to Zhu Yan.
"I specialize in creating ice sculptures," Zhu Yan said, tapping the bar and getting another glass of Corusca gem infused fire whiskey from the heart of Malachor Five handed to him. "On Tatooine." The bullshit was strong with this one, which was good, as his real career would have him hanged by the First Order. Or the New Republic. Or just any Hutt who looked at him funny. "It's a hell of a career. It's like being an artist, but with a time limit."
Sabella Lockheart just peers at Zhu Yan a few moments it seems and soon just smirks. "Really? I was on Tatooine a few dozen times." She offers while tilting her head. "Must be really hard to do that there. Come to get more ice then? Or do the Hutt's provide the ice so it draws people back to see such a extreme art?" Yeah sorry she calling this one, she saw plenty of Tatooine to know better.
"Absolutely. There's queues." She was amused. Zhu Yan was doing something right. "Ticket booths. Souvenirs. The ice trade on Tatooine is very profitable, yo." Okay, maybe he was slipping up in his crafty metaphors. But he was bantering. He loved banter. It was better than any ice on Tatooine. "The way I see it, you can't knock something unless you've tried it." He'd gone well past the point of lying and was now absolutely weaving a tale about Tatooine Extreme Ice Sculpting.
"I don't recall seeing it the last time I was there. How long have you been doing this?" Sabella questions curious like, she'll keep going if he will it seems. She finshes that drink and lets her arms fold upon the bar while just watching Zhu. "Win any ribbons?"
"Yep. Made curtains out of them." And a big swing there from Zhu Yan at the admittedly soft throw from the current target of his attention. "Keeps the cockpit cool from the blazing sun. Did you make sure to scan the areas around Mos Ila when you were there last? That's where the last annual Tatooine Extreme Ice Sculpting event was held." See, the SMART move would be to say that this event took place at night. But while many adjectives could be used to describe Zhu Yan (such as handsome, manly, egotistical and modest), 'smart' wasn't necessarily one of them.
Sabella Lockheart just watches Zhu, waiting to see if he might crack and a soft breath escapes her. "Your good... An so full of crap." She smirks a bit while standing and shakes her head a touch. "Was an amusing story though I have to admit." She pulls her jacket on her a bit more, wincing slightly at the movement. "Was rather nice to talk with you though, Yan. If that is even your name." Standing though he is actually a bit dizzy and taks a moment to get her bearings so to speak.
"Story?" Zhu Yan was clearly committed to his tale. He looked positively affronted, in a manner so dramatic you could put it on stage and call it Iago. "My dear, the glory of Tatooine Extreme Ice Sculpting is not for the faint of heart!" And he'd noticed the wobble upon standing too. And the wince. "And the faint of balance! Piece of advice, don't fall off a swoop!" That was a hell of a guess, son!
Sabella Lockheart offers a slight wiggle of a wave as she turns to make her way on out from the bar. "I'm sure it is. Next time I go by Tatooine I'll make sure to look you up then. Love to have a class in how to make a ice ducky." She's leaving, or that is the idea save she is feeling a bit icky now that she is up and walking. Someone may be puking on someone ship when she gets back to it!
"I don't teach for free," was Zhu Yan's completely flippant retort. Straight off the cuff. "Catch you about!" And with that dramatic declaration of not really walking the woman home and instead choosing to keep drinking the not-good-not-bad brandy, he... turned around on his bar stool and got back to drinking his not-good-not-bad brandy.
Sabella Lockheart laughs a bit. "Hey, I'd pay for a class. If it was true! Right right, see you around IceMan!" Witht hat she is gone, making it back and for certain sleeping it off and the like.