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Nar Shaddaa: A typical day
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| Jak_Merston | Date: Sunday, 23 February 14, 9:47 AM | Message # 1 |
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Private
Group: Users
Messages: 4
Status: Offline
| The smuggler was dressed in a classic outfit, with the color of brown covering his pants as well as his leather jacket without any cover of his arms. Several thin, black lines would run up the white sleeves that would be shown beyond the shoulder level, covering his bare arms. A Heavy Lightning Rifle were laying to rest onto his back, with the strap running down from the end of his neck toward one of the lower sides of his body. There was a belt to hold his pants in place, with a couple of WESTAR-34 blaster pistols holstered away each side of the waistline. Jak Merston, a Corellian, was sitting at one of the tables that had a Twi'lek playing him in an ancient game known as Pazaak and it was the Meltdown Café on Nar Shaddaa. The dark gray-colored gloves that he wore would hold a set of four cards. The green twi'lek hadn't seen his face yet, a hat with a feather nicely strapped onto it was concealing the smuggler's face for a moment.
A couple taps from his boots could be heard from below the table, and it wasn't the same boot with a combat knife stashed inside. When he pulled his face up, a couple scars on his left cheek would be seen. It was a souvenir from one of his smuggling runs, having been involved in a close quarters combat. "Sorry to disappoint you, greenie." He had put down a card that would up his points from eighteen to twenty-one. "I win." Jak gently got up and gathered fifty credits from the middle of the table, and stashed it into his pocket. A loud groan from the twi'lek would be heard.
Jak moved to the counter, and tossed a few credits as it spilled over the counter. "Shots of Corellian ale. Right now." He spoke in his usual Corellian accent. At that particular moment, he looked around the Café out of curiosity as to who was in the attendance this day.
~Jak Merston
A ordinary gunslinger
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| Dimitri_Maximov | Date: Saturday, 22 March 14, 11:11 AM | Message # 2 |
 Private
Group: Users
Messages: 3
Status: Offline
| The Meltdown was a dive, in Maximov's opinion. Then again, all of Nar Shaddaa was a dive in its own way. The city stank of despair and envy, greed and rush. It was far from his favorite place to go, but work took him to a multitude of places. Work, and then his own pleasure of bounty hunting. Work, for the GenoHaradan, was far harder, especially when disguised by his front occupation. Today, as for the past four days, he'd been on his own downtime, taking in the sights while he felt out where his next job would emerge from. There was always a need for this or that small contract to be taken; the larger jobs, those which required a team, he normally preferred to keep at a distance. When he worked partner jobs, there was always a chance he'd have to call upon his specialized talents and weapons, and word of a 'bounty-hunting Jedi' as he was sure people would assume, would get back to Coruscant. Then he'd have the real Jedi interested in his affairs. Not a good thing.
He nursed his Lommin ale; it was too early to consider drinking more heavily, and the cantina was mostly empty.
Dimitri Maximov
Assassin
GenoHaradan agent
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