Cantina - (Open to all)

[Sandarie]

Meg's blue eyes twinkle at the apparent grumpiness of the male. "I'll get right on that! Well the ale and the food anyway. Depends upon what information you might be looking for. I know a lot, about a lot of things. I know even more people who know more..."

Turning away from the Nautolan to tap into a datapad an order of Pikatta pie, the little female proceeds to pour a tall glass of ale which she promptly sets in from of the man accompanied by a small bowl of nuts and a type of lightly salted cracker-like sticks.

"So, what kind of information are ya lookin' for? Let's see if I can help ya out or not." Her infectious grin is usually disarming, but you just never knew with the types of clientele a place like Port Jato would attracted.

[Falkroth]

Atlos continued to frown. He takes a long pull from the ale before responding. "I'm looking for a man. Human. Broad shouldered and confident. Nasty scar above his right eye. Contact of mine said he might have passed this way a few cycles back. Seen him?"

[Sandarie]

Meg resisted rolling her eyes at the gruff demeanor of the Nautolan. "Not sure I saw him. I can ask around, if it's that important to ya. Most people make it to the Mistell while they are on Port Jato. Of course, that's assuming he even wanted to be noticed."

The pale pink skinned woman eyes the man, her smile still evident. "Do you want me to ask around, or would you prefer to do that yourself?"

[dalolorn]

Goldie decides to try talking to one of the nearby droids, and starts rolling over towards it.

Code: Select all

doip-biddle bedoop
(Hey there,)

The R2 unit's greeting is interrupted, however, when his wheels keep turning and he slams into the droid at full speed.

Literal TranslationShow

friend-speak droid

[Falkroth]

Atlos' frown deepens further as his head whips to the disturbance. The peculiar droid obviously has a problem with one of its motivators. He leaves the pile of credits on the counter, along with the frequency of his ships' communicator and walks over to separate the droids, pulling a spanner from his belt. " Need some help little friend?"

[Kelta]

The fur-clad female continues to watch the things in bewilderment. She's not sure what they are or their purpose.Her eyes track the reactions of the other patrons. They show no reaction, aside from the green alien thing that is attempting to help the run-away metal. She likewise does not respond. However, she hedges away from the metal attempting to communicate with her and goes to the side of the bar that the pink woman has just cleaned. She sits on a stool there, waiting. She eyes the crowd, taking in as much as she can.

[Falkroth]

Atlos raises an eyebrow at the fur clad creature, silently identifying her as a fellow predator, and continues to fiddle with the droids motivator until it ceased malfunctioning. "There you go little fella good as new." As he put the spammer away his attention was drawn to the door by a mechanical garbled strong of words. "I told you go wait in the ship IG-87." The IG unit was old and battered, but still deadly, it had an E-11 rifle strapped across its back. "I left the B2 in charge." Its monotone drawl was forever sarcastic. "If I had stayed on the ship for one more microsecond I would have dismantled him. Did you find the information you seek?"

[Sandarie]

Meg watched the patrons and droids with a practiced eye. She'd already retrieved the Nautolan's contact information, but noticed he seemed to have more of an affinity towards the droids than with sentient beings. She eyed the pile of credits for a moment then scooped them up, tucking them into a side pocket.

The IG unit seemed as grumpy as it's owner. Meg tapped a few times at a datapad behind the bar, then snatched up a clean bar mop to wipe down the area the Nautolan has occupied, just as a serving droid rolled up with the man's Pikatta pie steaming hot. Megan set it down next to the Corellian Ale and called to the man. "Hey! DInner's ready!"

[Falkroth]

Turning back to the bar, Atlos smelled a smell he has not smelled in twenty long years. "Is that... Pikatta pie?" Nautolans don't have very expressive eyes, but at that moment a sea of loss was present in the grizzled veterans eyes as he sat down and took a bite.

[Sandarie]

Meg grinned as she leaned against the bar, placing her elbows on the counter and resting her chin in her hands. "Yeah. Yeah it is. It's my own recipe." Picking up the man's glass, she tucked it into the dirty glass bin, then poured him a fresh glass of the ale. "I pocketed the pile of credits you left behind." She dug them out, placing them next to the plate. "Let me know if you need anything else."

She circled around the bar to the fur clad female, smiling up at her. "Can I get you anything? Food or a drink?"