Log:HUNT: Manko Rubinz

HUNT: Manko Rubinz

OOC Date: April 2, 2020
Location: Shadowgate Prison
Participants: Tarion Tavers, Kryll, Hex, Siha Archer, Mujiji, Kasia Ashkuri, Vex, Sshylisk, and Domino

"It'll be an easy job," Tarion promises everyone as they make their way through booking at the prison, already dressed in bright orange jumpsuits with serial numbers stamped on the back by giant industrial dies dipped in industrial dye. "All we got to do is find Manko Rubinz and sneak him out of here. My client promised double pay if we get him out alive. Failing that, we still get half the money for killing him."

"Welcome to Shadow-gate Prison," a mechanical droid voice speaks as each of them is hustled through the security checkpoint into the hallway beyond. "You are now entering an area where all persons are subject to search and sei-zure, and if un-ruly behavior is observed, severe and immediate phys-i-cal discipline. Please enjoy your stay."

The doors rumble closed behind the group, leaving them shut off from freedom and locked in with a whole prison's worth of violent offenders. "Don't worry, I paid a guy to book us in and let us back out," Tarion assures everyone with a smug, lopsided grin. "I already paid him the money so he has to do it." The hallway stretches off in both directions, a T-shaped intersection with a sign on the wall labeling the way they just came from 'Booking' and the other two options 'Main Yard' and 'Cafeteria'. "Where would I be right now if I was a line-cutting cardshark?"

While making sure his shank is not kept in his prison wallet, but kept isolated from the search just in case, Kryll makes his way through and into the main yard. He looks about and smiles, "Oh, look, exercise equipment." he makes his way over to one of the weight machines, and starts working out. "Physical conditioning is important."

Slick does not look pleased. This is probably a very common look on a Trandoshan - that of the perpetually irritated - but Slick in particular looks downright.. Unpleasant. Like he has something stuck inbetween two teeth to the point his gum is hurting and he can't pick it out and you just scuffed his new Nikes causing him to stab himself in the gum with a claw. Except there's no blessed relief of pulling the meat from his teeth. Instead, there's just orange. So much orange.

He lumbers behind Tarion, letting his arms swing idly at his sides as he pads after him, his feet-claws clicking and clacking as takes those long loping steps. He's already scratched thin lines in the orange fabric with the idle twitches of his claws. "Hate thissssssss uniform. Feelssss like being down in the Minesssss again." He mutters at Tarion, but obviously Tarion's way with words won him over one way or another, before he stops at the sign.

Huff. Huff. Snort. "Cafeteria. Food." Was that a comment on where the cardshark would be, or if the Trandoshan's one track mind has went off the rail and is now on a different track, he doesn't really go further into detail. Instead he swivels his head to make sure he can look at the group-that-Tarion-got. Waiting.

Tattoos and cybernetic limbs, missing lekku, from a life of violent hardship -- Hex Ashkuri sort of looks like he belongs in prison. Anyone who's ever heard of him probably agrees he belongs in prison, but all pillars of the Nar Shaddaa community are thus. But what really seals the whole 'he seems like he belongs here' thing is the fact that he keeps talking about the last time he was here. "Hahah," the big Twi'lek announces, punching Tarion in the upper arm in a way that's probably a little too much. "Remember the cell cameras last time we were here? Why were we here? No, the most recent one? We were drunk and disorderly in the Night Market, right? Tcha, wish I'd brought some smokes." Kasia had to bail them out. Maybe she knows.

What are they doing here now? How likely are they to get free again? Hex isn't paying attention. He does notice Kryll say that physical conditioning is important though, and scoffs in disbelief, "No it's not."

"...Already paid." The words seem to come from nowhere, at first, but if anyone pays attention to the source of the voice, they would realize it actually came from about mid-calf level. "Already -" Mujiji takes a deep breath, drilling two small, furry knuckles into the bridge of her muzzle. She's met Tavers before this, should have known what she was getting into, and blames herself for putting trust into the bounty hunter... That's on her. Tucking her thoughts of 'plan B' to the back of her mind in order to focus on the task at hand (after, of course, a sidelong glance towards the fat, green Twi'lek and a muttered: "your rich wife knows we're here, right?"), Mujiji glances up at their two options - they're to find this kraf-sniffing logart as quickly as possible. So... "Yard." The foul-tempered logomorph suggests, nodding at the indicated sign. "Easier t'make contact there."

At the Trandoshan's 'cafeteria' based proclamation, Mujiji inches a little further away, a little deeper out of sight, lest she be mistaken for that 'food' he's lusting after.

Siha Archer looks pained. Her mouth hangs a little open as lips curl around a grimace as Tarion speaks, grey eyes closing as she tilts her head back just so, "Tavers, I ...can't believe I didn't ask you for these details before accepting this. I .." Teeth clatter together with some disdain, "I deserve this." Self-disdain. Words oh so firm. Her hair is braided into five rows on either side of her head, hair wild coils and partial large curls in a sort of mowhawk way, orange jumpsuit rolled up awkwardly over her fake leg along the thighs.

"You know ..this is ..very remniscent of the last time I was in a prison. A lot more dead bodies back then, though." Said a moment before she runs her tongue between her teeth, a glance spared for Kryll along with a look of disgust for /him/ and a narrowing of her eyes, woman looking to Tarion before she decides what she's going to do once they're in the common area, "wWhat does this idiot look like. I don't feel like asking everyone the question-" And her voice lilts up into a surgary sweet tone, "Excooz me, awh you Mista Manki Wubinz?" Eyes are wide as she secures a vapid smile on her face, "Oh no? Ootaaaay." Head shakes as she wiggles her shoulders, trying to look adorable, but adorable is she not.

It'll be an easy job. All that's missing is the 'ok ka' at the end, but the words still ring ominous in Kasia's ears. It's not the only thing that does, but honestly if she had the wisdom to avoid bad choices her life wouldn't be where it is now. "Wait," she asks. "You paid him already? All of it?" Now she looks even more worried, shooting a look over at Hex.

The jumpsuit on her is... snug. She is sans all the flattering outfits that are tailored specifically to her figure, that across the chest, and hips, things are SNUG. Lil snug around the middle too, but less so than other areas. "These itch," she complains to no one in particular, running a finger along the inside of the collar as she glances around trying to decide the best direction to go. "The yard, maybe?"

Hex gets another look at the mention of his last stay here. Did she know about it? Only maybe, the look is definitely more of a /look/ that suggests she might not have, or isn't thrilled by the reminder, then she looks over at Mujiji. "His rich wife is right here with him so hopefully the answer is yes. Unless he has another rich wife."

"Would you stop thinkin' about your damned gut for a second??" Vex growls to Slick under her breath, one cybernetic hand gripping at the jumpsuit to tug it out of the crack of her arse where it's spent the last while creeping into. All that hard work, all for nothing, set free like the most institutionalised of inmates with nowhere to be and nothing to do but dangle, dangle ... dangle.

"Why do I agree to these things?" She asks of him, or the universe, whichever cares to answer. However or why-ever she's come here, the green skinned purple haired menace to society heaves a sigh, stuck now and regretting just about every choice she's ever made.

Domino snorts indelicately, her hair swetpt up in two panda-ears on either side of her head with a dull makeshift dorag keeping the stray hair concealed and out of the way, "Anything that starts with 'it's an easy job', NEVER is an easy job." She looks over herself with a delicate wrinkle of her nose in distaste, "Lucky for you I'm cheap when I'm bored." She looks over her shoulder, "Champ? If things go sideways you stick close to me. Would feel bad if you got stuck here but if you fall behind I am gonna leave you here so-don't make me do that. Oh. Also-don't let me get stabbed." She summons a sunshine smile of sweetness and light like she didn't just warn him she'd ghost him if she had to, "Please." At Tarion's question, "Cafeteria. Tables. Duh. Also-food."

She ohhs, "Dadbod and Beautiful are here-that's always a sign things are about to go off-script." She grins at Kryll, "Assuming I don't get stabbed this could be fun." she squints at Siha and steps in to softly wander to Kryll, "You know her from somewhere? She seems to know you."

Tarion is about to say something very intelligent and leaderly, but before he can, Kryll darts past him towards the main yard and Hex punches him in the arm and Slick complains to him about the jumpsuits, and Kasia complains about the jumpsuits, and- there's a lot of people complaining.

"Look," the bounty hunter frowns with capricious bad-temper, "If it was /easy/ and /comfy/ and /nice/ then they wouldn't be paying us enough to split your half of it 8 ways and still make ten grand apiece, /ok ka/."

The general consensus seems to lean towards the main yard, and Tarion heads that way, unzipping the top half of his jumper as he goes and pulling his arms out of the sleeves so that the white tank underneath is exposed. "I look like a hardened criminal, don't I, Hex? Just like last time, when you got us thrown in here for starting that fight in the Meltdown." He doesn't.

The Yard is an indoor simulation of an outdoor prison yard, and because Shadowgate is so high-class, there's real fake grass on the floor and one big orange ball of light jammed up at the center of the ceiling. It's a massive room, with even the girders holding up the domed roof painted a jaunty shade of blue.

Scattered around the astroturf are any number of tables with benches, all cast from one piece of metal without any sharp edges, and a herd of prisoners meander about, clustering here and there, exhanging hard words and knowing glances and the quick, discrete pass of hard drugs. Games of gravball on one side, clanking plates where Kryll has already made himself at home, and sabacc decks with beaten cards and loaded dice.

"Why don't I come here more often?" Tarion wonders for a moment before Siha's question sinks into his head. "Oh, Manko. Yeah, he's a uh. What do they call them? Hex, the red ones. Devaroonian. Davawroonian. Devaronian!"

Kryll starts working out, and mid rep looks to Domino. "Know who from where?" he continues exercising to finish the set then looks about. "It appears there are several people here that I know, some that I may have put here, and others I have met in other circumstances. You may have to be specific." and with that, he goes back to working out. "But, if someone is coming to stab me, please let me know. Otherwise, I am attempting to fit in. Would you like a turn? I haven't seen you running in some time."

"No. Food issss important. Alsssso place of essstablissshing dominance. Ssssee who sssitting on their own. Ssssee who'sss getting biggessst portionsss. Alsssso line cutting. Eassssier to sssspot a line cutting target in an environment that'ssss going to punissssh line cuttersss."

Pause. Blink. Blink. Slick's head swivels so that he's giving Vex his attention for a second - but he does freeze up when Mujiji inches away. He stares. Then blinks. Then he moves back to Vex. "Becausssse we get bored otherwisssse." Obvious answer from Slick to Vex, and then he's turning to follow the rest. "The crazy lady issss funny." He comments aloud as he goes, turning his hand so that it bumps and drags on the wall - leaving small thin lines of scraping as he walks. "It's nice. The couple that sssssslayssss together, sssstayssss together." That's almost thoughtful. "Have to sssshare the pointssss though."

"Hornsss are good for wall decorationssss or for sssshoulderpadsss." This comes out after Tarion mentions the species. "Mine. Ssssaid it firsssst. If he diessss. That issss." He doesn't sound very broken up about the idea of getting a little less than the full for a body. There's a trophy to be earned. "Or maybe after the one who sssssent ussss isss done."

On making his way into the 'Yard', he pauses and drags his bare feet through the fake grass. Once. Twice. A few times. He stares at it, chuffs a breath.

There's one hundred percent of the money, split 50-50 between Tarion (50) and everyone else (50), which means that 50% of the one hundred percent of the money is being split between a LOT of people and 50% of the one hundred percent of the money is being taken by Tarion alone and -- Hex has been thinking about this, looking up as though the numbers are over his head and slightly to the left, and then he nods. Yeah, sounds good. Ever wondered how he's been friends with Tarion for years? He's bad at math.

"You look like the longshrimp on Mon Cal," Hex answers Tarion. "Those white noodley ones? That's what you look like, ok ka. Nobody is gonna take you seriously. I definitely don't take you seriously. Don't drop any soap, Longshrimp. And I didn't get us thrown out of the Meltdown, I got us thrown out of the Golden Orb. It's not possible to get thrown out of the Meltdown."

So, they're looking for Devaronians. "There's one," Hex says, pointing to a horned figure playing cards. Because he's Hex, obviously the next order of business is to just start something, so he walks that way just a couple steps, and the moment the Devaronian looks up, he bristles in offense as though the man has committed a grave act, insulted twelve generations of Hex's ancestors, and specifically requested a fight.

"Ay Horns, you like what you see?" Belligerence! "Maybe you want a kriffin sample?"

When the rich wife herself answers her, Mujiji looks crestfallen. "I'm still not sure 'ow he landed the first rich wife, so I doubt dickhairs got another tucked away somewhere. Sounds like we're stuck here, then." The kushiban laments, fur darkening as she does, despite Taver's foul-tempered reassurances. Plan B, then.

In the yard, Moo gives a long, low whistle, turning a slow 180 to take in their surroundings, pausing only to be mildly impressed by Kryll's fitness before continuing. "Y'know, this place really ain't half bad. Nicer'n Ko, this." So, when the do inevitably find that they /are/ stuck here forever - at least it could be worse. But no, Jiji, focus. "Can't see nothin' - hoi, big fella." She's padding along at the Trandoshan's heels. "Yeah - you, uh, how about a -" She freezes, mid-question, because living at ankle-level has some advantages. Between the bustle of legs, she spies a flash of red. "There!" The kushiban hisses, nodding towards what appears to be the designated gravball area. "He's kinda fat - Hex, you should go talk to 'im." She turns to smirk at the Twi'lek, only to find him gone and pestering some other Devaronian. "This is so racist." The kushiban complains to no one, rolling her eyes, puffing up her chest, and committing to trotting in the opposite direction, towards gravball. And a different Devaronian. "Room f'one more?" She calls to him, pushing herself to a bi-pedal position and trying to look like a worthy opponent - not an easy feat at two and a half feet tall.

It doesn't work.

Where Siha doesn't look adorable, she does look hardened. So many scars, including one which drags down from her left bottom eyelid down through lip and off down the curve of her chin near to her neck, others popping off in reddish puckering here and there along that bit of skin of her face and ears.

Unzipping her own jumpsuit in mirror of Tarion she shoulders it off her upper half, very flat chest and even more scars bared for the prison yard, sleeves tied together as her waist as she wanders on into the yard with the others. Right hand itches at her left elbow then, janky bug-legged steps taken on towards one end of the yard, a space that opens up over a large swath of grass, ventilator grates and a Devaronian that happens to be smoking beneath it.

It takes a minute, because her cybernetic leg hasn't been serviced in a while and her hip is sore. Rubbing at said hip as she half-limps over she'll move to turn and lean in back against the wall beneath the grates, just as Hex picks a fight.

"Hey, you got another smoke to share for the show?" Casually asked with a casual sidelong glance to the Devaronian she's now casually lingering near, eyebrows raised up casually as she also slants a casual look to the impending fight, because, you know. Casual sharing is caring.

Kasia is in prison in an ugly, itchy orange jumpsuit, complaining was inevitable. She tugs at the collar again and turns to move for the yard after Tarion and the others. She eyes Tarion as he asks why he doesn't come here more often, laughing after a moment. "I ask myself that question often, Tarion." As she hears an addition to the story of their previous trip to the prison, she looks back and forth between both Hex and Tarion. "Wait, you got thrown out of the Orb? Is that why you never want to go eat there now?" she demands of Hex, who is probably too busy picking a fight to notice that she's trying to pick one too. Hers is just a lot less helpful here. Since Hex has this fight and intimidation handled, and isn't fighting with her, she turns to follow after the adorable little bunny rabbit would definitely not make a great hat. "Don't worry, I wouldn't have bailed you guys out anyway," she assures Mujiji, sidling up with her to address the thicc Devaronian.

Shucks, good thing that got settled.

Vex was getting worried that they wouldn't uncover the secret of the man's species.

She follows along with the rest of them, looking full well like the criminal that she is, littered with scars and the remnants of 'battles' past, cybernetic eyes glowing a dim orange as she scans the area with denied interest, lower jaw jutting out as she quite literally chews on the words that are not allowed to tumble from her dark lips. She sticks nearby to Slick, letting him take the brunt of any other inmates that might wish to 'step to' them. She's not losing any more limbs for a critter that can regrow his.

"I mean, he's not wrong..." Vex begins as Slick rambles on about his reasoning and the benefits of being in the cafeteria. Then he goes on to talk about sharing the points, and without saying anything to him she turns her attentions toward Kasia, points rigidly toward Slick with her brows lifted into high arches as though to say 'see??'. THE ALMIGHTY SCORE. This, of course, fully distracts her from actually doing what they're here to do, which is to find a mark.

She sees nothing.

And then Hex is marching away toward an indicated red fellow with horns, and she gives a quick blink, arching backward to see around Slick in order to observe what's coming. "... Hex and Vex, cybernetic sibliiiings..." She begins singing a themesong (terribly) under her breath, "For life, (yeah!)" Yeah. It's definitely a sitcom intro.

She's got her own thing going on.

She straightens herself, heaving a sigh as people branch off and go about trying to find the -right- Devaronian, her eyes flicking toward Slick, "... Y'gunna go punch someone'r what? Score ain't gunna tally itself." This is her contribution. She's shaking the scaley cat-bomb that is Slick, and is preparing to release it upon the world.

Domino blinks and looks down at Kryll increduously and looks up in mild alarm, "I'm not standing next to a meatshield, I'm standing next to a target." She looks down and kicks his foot lightly "Does THIS look like someplace you want your attention diverted or your hands full? Stars no, man. I'm blending in just fine." She errs, "Hands free, Champ, it's about to get violent in here."

Her gaze tracks Siha then and her eyebrows slowly drift up towards her hairline, "Wow. This is hard to watch. Someone should do something." she lookds to Kryll, "By someone I mean you." Her gaze flicks over to Kasia then and her lips quirk, "Uh-oh, looks like Dadbod's been busted." She's too transfixed by the unfolding of the various plans to be helpful but let's be honest, Dom's place in the galaxy is not to be helpful. It's to offer unsolicited commentary.

"Yeah, I don't know, they all look the same to me," Tarion is saying with a shrug of his bony shoulders. Nobody is impressed by his fitness, not even mildly. "It's kind of irritating, honestly, a couple of months ago I bagged a Rodian and then it turned out it wasn't even the right one," he complains, like his own racist ignorance is not to blame here. "Speaking of Rodians and the Golden Orb, remember that Sugg guy? I wonder what he's up to these days." Probably dead, but those white pants. Oof.

The Devaronian in the midst of a particularly intense Sabacc game that will decide the fate of not one but TWO packs of ciggs looks up sharply at the tubby Twi'lek with what looks like a devilish grin but really they just all look like that, all the time. Just ask Tarion. "Like what I see? Sure, I like what I see. I'm holding a great hand, and you're interrupting. Take your cart of green pudding and peddle it back in the canteen where it belongs."

On the gravball court, the game stops for a moment to determine what that squeaking noise was. "Hey, there's a womprat or somethin' in here!" the robust Devaronian calls, pointing at Mujiji. "Tell Gibblit that pipe must be broken again! Krif me, I was just gettin' used to not stepping in shite on the way to the showers."

The thinnest of the three so far identified, the smoker eyes Siha out of the corner of his eye. "Sure, but you owe me," he agrees with a shady, devilish grin, his eyes sparkling. DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN. All the same.

Kryll puts the equipment away, and sits up slowly. "No, this is not the place to split my attention, that is why I focused on the exercise. They are heavy if dropped. But, I have also not come in and made an obvious stand out target of myself. I am a much lower priority in the stab in the back list." he looks about for people in trouble, "Nobody is being assaulted as of yet. Do you think I should assault someone first?" he stands up from the equipment so someone else can use it, then stretches a bit. "Have you spotted who we are looking for in here?"

Slick was prepared to let those wiser, smarter, or just better at social interaction find and locate the Devaronian in question. This is am important task -- it's always a good idea to find the exact target and then..

.. Then...

Then Vex encourages him to go and punch something. Calling him out, so to speak. Of course, Slick must rise to the occasion. Slick must move to action! SLICK NEEDS THE POINTS. He starts stomping forwards. Past the card-playing Devaronian. Past the THICCNESS Devaronian. No. It's the one that's off to the side. The smart looking one. The sneaky one. The one's that always call Slick things like stupid, idiot, lizard, and at one point, someone even MISTOOK HIM FOR A WOOKIEE.

Before any smokes can be traded for any nefarious one-legged escapades, up comes Slick, going from stalking walk to loping jog. Then, he promptly power-backhands the Devaronian. Before the man can recoil, he steps in and stabs his left hand forwards, sinking claws in just enough to hurt. To wound. Slick is good at wounding. Good at sports. Then his right arm comes up and he promptly slams his hand - claws and all - into the Devaronian's shoulder. There's an awful crunch noise - and the Devaronian drops.

"One out of three. Sssssteal his sssssmokessss and look for any ID."

"So'cha ka, I can see your hand from here, Horns," Green Puddingcart announces to the card player, "Looks like you're holding an Idiot's Array to me."

First move: Draw a SHIV. Second move: Walk over and KICK OVER THE CARD TABLE. It topples with a clatter, and Hex might have earned himself extra opponents by pissing off the Devaronian's opponents as well.

Third move: Bicker with companions. "I'm doin a thing, Jiji! Talk to the fat one yourself, you think we're gonna stop this right now to bond over fried dumplings?" Hex hollers at the Kushiban's suggestion, before fighting with Kasia, "It's not because I got thrown out, it's because the Orb sucks." It's because he got thrown out.

Maybe if there had been a little bit more bonding over fried dumplings, there wouldn't be - Mujiji takes a moment to count - 1... 2... 3 possible fights happening simultaneously? But, really, how else did she think this was going to go? The green one is on his own, Mujiji has work to do.

At Thicc's answer, there's a flicker of black through Mujiji's fur, and her face twists up into a half-snarl before a forceful zen overcomes her. The fur returns to white. Her face relaxes. Somewhere, deep in her mind, calming noises drown out everything else - ah yes, sweet screaming... The keen of melted, exploded infrastructure failing... Peace... "HAH." She forces out with a sudden, violent vehemance that takes even her off guard. The laugh is far too high-pitched to be genuine. "Womprat. That's funny, ain't it, uh -" she looks up at Kasia, obviously forgetting the woman's real name, or having the sense not to use it, and coming up with a new one. A better one. "Uh - Boneflayer. Ain't that funny? Never heard that'un before, no." Turning back to Mr. Thicc, the kushiban swallows. "You scared'a losin' t'someone half yer size? It's not a good look, Red." Her tail gives a little flick behind her, one that Mujiji would be loathe to recognize as 'cute'. She lets the other fights (plural?) play out behind her, though those large ears betray her, twisting back to listen in case furniture comes flying their way. It's all just a part of that prison life, you know, and she's happy to mind her own business - she ain't no snitch, unless the pay is good.

Or just existant.

"Yeah, sure." Siha says without any pause at all, left hand flicking out as she waggles her fingers expectantly, slanting her own shady, devlish grin because what he expects to be owed is likely far off the mark of what she intends on owing him. Or maybe they're thinking the same thing; a wholesome game of hopscotch in the yard. She spotted the grid on the way in and she's stoooooked, "Give it over."

Only SSHYLISSK is TAKING DOWN THE GUY SHE'S ABOUT TO GET A SMOKE FROM.

Impassively she'll watch as the Lizard Man pimp slaps the Devaronian, dips into his chest for a bit of fun, then CRACKS through his chest. A glance up to the Trandoshan as the Devaronian drops down to his knees and flops forwards onto his face, "This isn't my first pod race." Fingers curl into her palm, Mandalorian taking the two steps needed before she crouches down carefully, servos in her leg whirring and click-click-clicking angstily against her, forcing her to kick the leg out to the side awkwardly, other leg working just fine save for some joint popping.

Pilfering the Devaronian involves her snagging first the smoke out of his hand and popping it between her lips, tongue prying it to the side and teeth chewing a little as she begins to work through the pockets of his jumpsuit, woman-handling his body, "I should probably check the booty hole." Said as she yanks out this from the Devaronians pocket, and that, looking for his ID, "You should probably go help Hex, he gets in over his head like, all the time." Said with a nudge of her head up at Slick from beneath a few coils of dark hair, eyebrows slanting up to send him off to brutalize another. No one wants to witness her dipping into the booty.

Kasia is near-ish to Mujiji but that nearness isn't so far that she doesn't hear the reply from Hex, who she wheels around to look at for a moment. "It does not, it's because you got thrown out. We're going to talk about this later!" Provided Hex doesn't choose to stay in prison after that threat. She looks displeased, which might serve to assist Mujiji in the attempted intimidation tactic of dubbing her Boneflayer. There's a momentary glance down at her shorter, present companion, then a look back up to the Devaronian. "Real bad look," she agrees. She considers her options and then simply takes a step nearer the alien who might or might not be who they're looking for and just bluntly asks, "Who are you anyway? Your name? What do we call ya? Obviously I'm Boneflayer and the womprat here is... Fluff." Ok she needs to work on her improv skills, but no one actually wants to take improv classes so that's never going to happen. She clears her throat and does her best to look like she means business.

"... Don't talk about food, brother Hex," Vex continues to mutter. That's right. The sitcom is just writing itself, "You will only rile the lizard..." As though she hasn't done it already. She snorts softly as she thinks of something, turning on her heel to face toward Slick, "Haw! Hey, Slick, we should..."

Oh, shavit, that's right.

She already set him free to do as Slick do.

Once again, she heaves a sigh. He's never there when she wants to dish. Her head tilts back so that she can stare toward the ceiling, even as he's getting himself a handful of horny dude. This is weirdly reminiscent of the row they had in the Plaza with Manrobe, only this time Slick actually hurts somebody. She flinches back, the skin at the bridge of her nose wrinkling up as the catbomb officially goes off, her lashes batting as she rapidly blinks as the blows land. Once the first man is down, and the Trando tells somebody -- certainly not her -- to actually do something useful, her attentions shift to Siha as she picks up the mantle.

"Always check the booty hole," She agrees with the Mandalorian woman, "Lemme know if you need help, darling, I'm not above gettin' wrist deep in a man. Wouldn't be the first time, certainly won't be the last. Sometimes when Slick gets to eatin' things he doesn't even notice what they're wrapped in, and sometimes you gotta just get on up there and pull it out ... and have mercy if it's minty smellin', he just -goes- for it. Could knit a sweater with the strands I've pulled outta there." She hesitates a moment, eyes going slightly wide.

This is clearly a winning business venture.

With that in mind, she suspiciously glances at the rest of the party and grows silent, eyes narrowing as she tries to figure out which of these people is going to steal her million credit idea.

Domino looks visably, physically pained at Kryll's response and looks down at him "Just... be ready for trouble and DO NOT let me get stabbed, hear me? Just cause you don't enjoy the view doesn't mean I'm not too damned pretty to get shivved." apparently her thought this might be fun has vanished and she's making note of the exits, "When the bantha shit hit-..." She eyes Kryll and clarifies "When the fighting starts my priority's gonna be making sure there's a way out, I might need help getting or keeping the way clear. I don't care about the rest of the riffraff but if we get separated make sure you follow whatever way you saw me go-an make sure Dadbod, Kasia, and the Asset know to do the same." She scans the yards "There's probably about to be a lockdown so getting out's gonna get a lot harder..." she picks an exit and grabs the barbell or whatever Kryll was just working out with and grunts, struggling to haul it with her towards the nearest exit emergency exit/entrance.

"We got THROWN OUT," Tarion volunteers to Kasia in support of his buddy Green Puddingcart, climbing up on one of the tables so that he can get a better view of everything his erstwhile minions are up to. Two fights have already broken out, with one threatening to become an outright brawl. "Yeah, this seems right," the bounty hunter mutters to himself.

"AI-YAH," one of the cardplayers, a lanky Ryn with a long, braided goatee cries out as the table is flipped and the cards, and more importantly the cigs they were using as stakes, go flying into the artificial grass. "That ain't cool, tubby, ya feel?!" The primate-rodent energy is strong as he scurries atop the upturned table, producing a plastoid shiv from... somewhere.

The other sabacc players follow suit, each pulling sharpened objects turned into treasured weapons from various discreet locations. Especially when the extra cards hidden in the leg of the upturned table start to flutter down into the grass, and a few venemous glances are shot towards the Devaronian. "You uh... those yours?" The question comes slowly from the big, burly Herglic that had been losing every hand so far.

On the gravball court, the Devaronian player looks between Boneflayer and Fluff for a long second, trying to decide what these two could even be in prison for in the first place. It doesn't quite fit. "Look, whatever you two are in here for I'm guessing it's probably so twisted they barely got names for it, cause you don't- How'd you even flay a bone? Don't tell me," he stops any explanation short with an upheld hand.

No one seems to notice or care about the poor innocent smoker on the periphery getting absolutely trashed by Slick, but with the impending riot brewing in the middle of the yard, a few cameras now swivel and home in on the participants. In a computer bank somewhere, their identities are being scanned and brought up for reference.

Kryll watches Domino drag the weight, and considers telling her that is not how it is supposed to be operated, but that isn't important. He makes his way towards Hex and Kasia, making note of the card players, and other events that are happening. "I was told someone needs to be punched around here, is someone cheating at cards? That is horrible in this place, have you heard what happens when you drop soap?"

The read out for Slick is not complicated. Just like the Trandoshan. Although it is probably frustrating to read, considering his line of work.

--- NAME: Sshylisk ALIASES: Slick, Lizard, Oh Shavit KNOWN ASSOCIATES/ASSOCIATIONS: Vex, Hutt Cartel DOB: 6th Selona 1135. AGE: 25. Wanted for: <No known warrants.> Crimes: <No known crimes.> ---

Damn. It feels good to be a gangster. Of course, after this, Slick's probably going to have to deal with bribes. Or more likely, Vex will be forced to deal with it. Especially as the idea of 'going and helping other people' seems to fall into Slick's definition of a good time. He eyeballs Siha for a second, before giving a soft hissing noise. Laughter. Or a giggle. Or something. He probably doesn't hear Vex -- or her statement doesn't seem to bug him as he moves towards Hex and the group.

Of course, he's deiverted as his eyes notice the Herglic. The Huge Herglic. That Herglic is huge. It has huge guts. There's absolutely no pause as Slick goes from jogging towards the group to just straight up trying to maul and claw the Herglic, coming flying in like a cat that has been made angry, picked up, shaken, flipped around a few times so it's very confused, then hurled at someone's face. His claw hands are open wide, so's his mouth.

"RIOT!"

He screeches at full volume.

Cards stuck to the leg of the table! "Why you goblin-hearted, soft-toothed, miserable weevil-eating nutjuggler," Green Puddingcart gasps at the card-playing Devaronian. The cheater! "You cheat at CARDS, you get the SHARD." He menaces with his shiv! The Shard! A moment is spared to side-eye the Ryn, though. "He was cheating you, sa'sinak, I don't -- hey. You don't know Fennix or Maireni Lash, do you?" Maximum suspicion there. Anyone who's ever met a Lash knows why.

Hex doesn't wait for a reply before diving into the fight in a manner that suggests this is absolutely not his first time attacking someone with a random weapon of opportunity. Other people might take offense to Slick attacking the Herglic, might think that there were ways to turn the other players to their side. But this is Hex, and it would literally never occur to him that violence is not an option, so he's down with it.

--- NAME: Heksash'kuri ALIASES: Hex KNOWN ASSOCIATES/ASSOCIATIONS: Kasia Ashkuri, Tarion Tavers (several pages) DOB: unknown AGE: 35 Wanted for: (several pages) Crimes: (several pages, but it's mostly repeat offenses of public intoxication and disturbing the piece, with one interesting incident regarding bank arson.) ---

This all ends up badly for the card playing Devaronian, who gets advice along with the stabbing. "Sit down, son, this is my house."

--- NAME: UNKNOWN ALIASES: Mujiji KNOWN ASSOCIATIONS: ERROR DOB: UNKNOWN AGE: 10? WANTED FOR: Murder, 1st degree. Murder, 2nd degree. Mur-- CRIMES: Murder, Kidnapping, Arson, Public Intoxication, Disturbing the Peace, Unlawful Biting, Fleeing Authorities, Smuggling, Illegal Sales, Illegal Posession of a Restricted Animal, Harrassm-- ---

"Fluff." Mujiji repeats after far too long a pause, blinking up at Kasia. She got Bonflayer and Mujiji gets /Fluff/? There's outrage there, but a job to be done, so the kushiban goes with it. "M'buddy here asked you a question, Red." She snarls, still trying and failing to look tough by flashing some big, buck teeth. "Unless you wanna find out what landed us 'ere, y'best answer it. We're tryna make friends, see? An', more importantly, I'm playin' wingman - by th'sounds of it, B-Flay here may be down a side piece in a minute." She nods at the brawl over her shoulder without looking at it.

"Aye, for real? Shoot, c'mere woman." Siha says entreatingly to Vex, her equally scarred counterpart, lifting her hand up after having pulled down the mans jumpsuit down along his shoulders, waist, to expose his really perky bottom which is tattoo'd with 'property of Jo-X' in beautiful calligraphy, a stylistic heart and a pair of lips also tatt'd on, "I'll part the river, and you, well. Go fishing." Half uncrouching she'll shift over, not at all moving to help those in the riot yet but the camera is sure to get a great view of her as she steps over the Devaronian to part said river before the riot breaks out completely, "I feel like, if we don't go and help them ..anything we plunder from these depths is so not going to be on our persons when it's all done. Or we'll be getting plumbed."

Plus, Sshylisk screeching out RIOT is sort of rousing, the sort of thing that really gets the blood going, so Siha is abandoning the booty of the Devaronian with a slap of his tatt'd cheek and using said cheeks to help push her up partially from her crouch so she can swiggle her way up to a full stand, "When in prison ..." There is no possibility that existed that wouldn't have turned into a riot with this group.

Siha's File: Name: Siha Archer Aliases: Barely Mammal, Nearly Reptile, Elite Beach Murder Hobo, B*tch, Captain Archer Known Associates: Hex Ashkuri, Kasia Ashkuri, Tarion Tavers, King Grom, King Sajin, Hopp Nooram, Iggy Odessa, Ryo Odessa, Sar Yavok, Dr. Percy, Mimsi DOB: 17th of Welona 1131 Age: A very ripe 29 Wanted for: Accosting a nuggy vendor for running out of red sauce Crimes: Public nudity, urinating on an officer of the peace (accomplice to Mimsi).

"EY Y'THREE EYED BASTARD." Siha calls out as she steps in on that Gran, a shank she stole off the fallen Devaronian under those grates sliced through the air towards his chest as she darts in, missing, then two more are slaked across the mans chest and belly, finding their marks, "Why've I the feeling we've just earned our way into the place?!" Called out to no one in particular, because they're all in the shavit, and she loves it. Wearing a devlish smile she readies for another attack, "HEY. Is one of you Manko Rubinz?" Asked off whoever is left standing, or laying alive, her shank weaved through the air, "Or know where he is? I'm kinda sweet on him and wanna play."

THROWN OUT. Kasia KNEW IT! GOLDEN ORB SCANDAL! This is some good fight fodder for later, but for now she's busy trying to figure out how to weasel the name of this guy out of him without attacking first. "Yeah, that's right," she says to confirm the degree of sick stuff they must've done in order to be put in here, and rather than explain that, or how one flays a bone, she simply steps closer to the Devaronian who was just trying to play gravball like a good little prisoner.

The fact that Mujiji is gravely offended by the chosen alias isn't a surprise, and Kasia doesn't miss that fact, she just ignores it because it's better to do that than to admit fault. They're in prison, THESE ARE PRISON RULES. "Look man," she turns to angle her body slightly, pointing over to where Mujiji also just indicated. "You see all that? All that ruckus? What I'm trying to do here is check that I don't need to get that intimate with you, and in order to know that I need to know your name. I suspect the one that we actually wanted is one of those, but I'm going to be real frank here and admit that if you don't cooperate with me that's the direction this is going to go. So. What is it? Your. Name." The flaw in the plan is that he could lie, but she's a shrewd individual, so maybe she'll be able to tell. Maybe she'll just attack him anyway. Who knows.

PRISON RULES.

--- NAME: Kasia Ciph ALIASES: KNOWN ASSOCIATIONS: Heksash'kuri, Tarion Tavers, etc, etc... (lots) DOB: 16th of Elona 1123 AGE: 37 WANTED FOR: <ERROR> CRIMES: Money Laundering, Identity Theft, Resisting Arrest ---

-Whoa-.

Nobody calls Vex's brother -tubby-!

Where she's gotten this siblings concept is truly anyone's guess.

She has been utterly uninvolved in this entire ordeal, the lights that run through her hair somber colours in slow patterns as this entire mass of people has engaged in their brawling, standing like a BOSS in the middle of it all like some salty sailor that's seen these cresting waves a thousand times before. "... yes, Porkchop..." She lets out breathily as Siha makes her invitation and bares that pre-owned firm piece of questionable equity. Her breathing grows slow, shallow as cybernetic pupils dilate and her excitement becomes apparent. But then, she is cruelly denied her expedition by the reminder that the others are getting themselves into it, and just barely edge out her unhinged desire to see what the fellow has stowed up his pooper. And so, though reluctant, she turns and heaves yet another sigh. "You and I?" She nods toward Siha, "We'll talk later."

This evening has been a grand disappointment.

"ELBOW DEEP!" She bellows as she bounds toward the lanky Ryn fellow with her shiv drawn.

Apparently that is the battlecry she's decided on.

... this can't end well. ... For her.

--- NAME: Ve'Ksisz Szin ALIASES: Vex, Maddy Minge KNOWN ASSOCIATES/ASSOCIATIONS: Slick, Hutt Cartel DOB: UNKNOWN (RUDE!) AGE: UNKNOWN (STILL RUDE!) Wanted for: <No known warrants.> Crimes: <No known crimes.> ---

Thank god for having connections, because that is absolutely false, and anyone that's spent any time with the woman know it. But as far as that system is concerned? She's proper squeaky, she is. The shiv is held aloft like she's re-enacting that shower scene from Psycho, only she's not the composed sort, and so instead of pulling aside the curtain and having at, she's screaming and charging toward the easiest target in the place.

... easiest next to her, that is.

As she nears in her dead sprint across the room, however, her shoe scuffs with a loud 'SQUEAK!' and a wet 'SCHMOCK!' soon follows as her face makes meaty contact with the floor with such suddenness that she scorpions over herself somehow -- a feat in itself -- her toes touching the ground somewhere beyond where her face has smeared itself against it before snapping back to slap her belly down on the floor. There are a few tense moments where it looks as though she might well be dead, and then she stirs. "Oh... shavit..." One eye blinks, then the other, no longer seeming coupled. She shuffles and staggers as she gets to her feet, "I'm... I'm okay!" She announces, more surprised than anybody else, a hearty laugh erupting from her, "I'M ALRI--" Her head snaps down to view the shiv fully impaled into her thigh, her eyes going saucer wide, "AW KRIFF, KRIFFING KRIFF FFFF--AAAAH!"

Now the screaming begins.

She is credit to team.

Domino

NAME: Domino Greystorm ALIASES: Peaches, Fruitsnack, Galsee Verde-calle, Maude, Vincent d'Odo, Deadmeat, Yo Momma KNOWN ASSOCIATIONS: Waywards, Hutt Cartel, DOB: N/A AGE: N/A WANTED FOR: Not Wanted CRIMES: Being too Sexy, Looking this good. SUSPECTED CRIMES: Art Fraud, Identity Theft, Electronic Banking Fraud, Racketeering, illicit electronics dealing, Smuggling, Destruction of Private PRoperty of more than 3,000,000 Credits, impersonating Law Enforcement, Altering cargo manifests, Illegal tampering of Galatic Records.

Domino struggles but with a grunt and clang manages to wedge the narrow bar holding the weights at 45 degree angle at the top corner of the door, panting and staggering to the side to see how the others were doing.

--- NAME: Tarion Tavers ALIASES: Ringo Figgins, Tario Tavish, Tavish Tario, Figgi Riggins, others KNOWN ASSOCIATES/ASSOCIATIONS: Heksash'kuri, Kasia Ashkuri, Jehni'va Cihn, Naelyn, Rheisa Dirleel DOB: 2 Yelona 1132 AGE: 28 Wanted for: Please do not capture him again, I am begging you Crimes: Insurance fraud, tax fraud, circulating fraudulent documents, speeding, driving under the influence, arson, petty theft, grand theft auto, grand larceny, impersonating a doctor, impersonating a public official, impersonating a licensed beautician, manslaughter, felonious possession of a banned weapon, breaking and entering, battery and assault, aggravated assault, aggravating ass, murder in the first degree ---

"Beautiful," Tarion comments from atop the table, raising his arms and waving his hands back and forth as though conducting a symphony of mayhem and chaos, little prison slipper shoes drifting around in a circle. "That's got to be him, he's a card cheater!" the bounty hunter shouts over to his comrades.

The only thing worse than disrupting a card game is outright cheating, and with the RIOOOTT scream going up, half the prison yard takes this opportunity to settle any existing scores and debts. Fights break out all over the space, and now a siren begins to sound.

The doors leading into the yard seal shut, even the one that Dom has attempted to brace open, though the barbell she used does give out a fantastic creak as it bends into a giant's hairpin before snapping in the middle, halves falling on each side of the blastdoor. Then one and one only shoots back open, and the guard droids issue forth.

Risk analysis, conducted by advanced AI simulations and built on a foundation of Just Prisoner Repercussion Theory, identifies the one known as Green Puddingcart as the instigator and first to be reprimanded. The guards are like floating trashcans with arms, and come hovering in a tight formation, moving echelon left and right around the other various skirmishers before metallic hands seize upon the Twi'lek and lift him bodily between them, turning and starting to hover back towards the hallway leading to solitary. Another fleet comes in next, seizing another inmate seemingly at random.

"GET OUR BOY," Tarion shouts to his cohorts. "Get our CARD-CHEATING, LOW-DOWN TRICK and let's get GIT!"

"GHRAKHOWSK!"

Only one person Slick knows screams in exactly that pitch. With that tone. With those lungs. It's like a switch gets flicked in his brain. At one moment, he was actually happy. There's laughter, there's joy. Even when he's getting shivved by a Herglic, Slick seems to be having what can only be understood as 'A really great time' -- then Vex screams, and then Slick screams, and then someone lifts the vinyl from the record player, carefully replaces it with a new record, and lets it start playing. The tune is no longer Benny Hill.

Ignorant of his own safety, and twisting in a way that can only be called 'angry cat twisting mid-leap', his clawed feet sink into the fake astroturf for extra grip, and his pace changes entirely. There's no sloping walking. No lumbering or jogging. He /sprints/ at the Ryn.

"SHAM BA ASHKIRK, SHAM BA LU MI LOWE!" He screeches this in Dosh as he lurches over the fallen Vex, swinging his claws in wide, inaccurate sweeps. He's not even attempting to just hurt the Ryn, it's obvious he's attempting to straight up murder the poor, poor Ryn. No. It doesn't matter that you didn't stab Vex. His blank stare says it all.

"EAT YOUR HEART!"

He screeches that in Basic. Just so it's clear as to his intentions.

The robust gravball player Devaronian is not intimidated by Boneflayer and Fluff any longer. He's had a good think and decided that you can't even flay bones. The gravball in his hand is hurled with significant velocity at the small, ostensibly fragile Kushiban. "YOU CAN'T FLAY NO BONES!"

Green Puddingcart is the instigator and first to be reprimanded. Hex can fight a lot of different people and things, and he's never in his life been above fighting inanimate objects. But the trashcans with arms manage to grab hold of him, applying an electric shock until he yelps OW and drops The Shard with a clatter. Then the droids begin to haul him away, all six-foot-two inches and 260 lbs of green fury that he is. "Koa! No! What? I was DOIN A THING," he yells at the droids, struggling fruitlessly. They're inexorably dragging him off now, as - honestly - they have before. He's looking at the fight longingly now, living vicariously through Slick, dragging his feet as he tries to slow his drag out the door. "Yeah! Eat his heart, ai'jou! Eat it!"

The security droids drag him out the door, and he struggles his green head, mismatched lekku dangling, into the doorframe again just long enough to add "I'm innocent, ok ka!" before he disappears to solitary accommodations. They can now add lying to his rap sheet.

Mujiji would be grateful that 'th'frag is this?' hadn't shown up as an alias on her stats card, were she aware of what it had said. Instead, she is smashed by a ball with enough force to carry her small body several meters back with it - something cracks upon landing, and the kushiban lets out a yelping whimper of pain.

But Mujiji has been in worse (if not nearly identical) scrapes before, and as she is flying backwards, is trying to free her shiv - little more than a strip of sharp-edged metal that had been hidden precariously in her sleeve - in the process. However, keeping those things hidden is tough, and in order to ensure it remains so means tucking it away so well that a quick-draw takes skill and practice. Mujiji does not have these, and instead spends a moment wrestling with her own jumpsuit, giving her opponent far too much time to prepare for her clumsy strikes.

"Hold up, did you /just/ come at /me/?" Breathlessly asked as that Rodian who wasn't EVEN IN THE CARD GAME launches at Siha to take his pound of flesh and advantage of her trying to figure out who is who, "Who even /are/ you." Asked as she rears back to avoid his attacks, swipe, swoop, swop, all at her arms and chest but so messily done, "You're one of those /white collared/ criminals, aren't you. Well, here. Let me invite you to the big girls club-" YOINK. FOR VEX! Siha reaches out to grab the rodian by the shoulder and drag him into her like she's gonna give him some good secret advice, or like a warm sweet hug, but instead her shiv drives up into his abdomen multiple times. SWITHSWITHSWITHSWITH. RIGHT IN THE ORGANS.

The man tries to cry out but she's shouldering him in the mouth, holding him nice and tight to her as the blade finally drags out after her damage is done. She'll hold him as he shudders against her, his own shiv falling out from his hand to clatter on the ground as he's forcibly hugged against Siha's flat chest and broad shoulder, woman whispering in his dying ear, "It's easier if you don't fight it, just let go." Slapping against her nicely scarred biceps he begins to go limp, Siha only just noticing Hex getting dragged off, a glance given to Kasia as she legs go of her quarry to let him collapse in a dead heap to the floor.

"Tarion, grab the bloody Devaronian and SIGNAL YOUR IDIOT FRIEND TO GET US OUT." Kas has bux. She can spring the hubbo-rooni. Fingers sweep down her chest and pull away to eyeball the blood, hand turning a few times as she considers. Not hers. Good. Vex avenged. A flick of fingertips, and Siha is striding to the Devaronian, intent on dragging him by the collar out. But not yet. She's gotta get there and there's a lot of fiting. And she got a bum leg.

This is all going precisely as Kasia expected it would, which is to say terribly. At least in her mind. She watches poor Fluff go flying at the hit, then wheels around to face the attacker. It was kind of a justified attack considering the whole Boneflayer and Fluff intimidation campaign, but really she's unwilling to look at this particular issue from both sides. She'd been /trying/ to take a better, more peaceful path, but the attack is enough that she pulls out the shiv she was given and tries to attack. Tries, she's not a familiar with this weapon as she is with some others, and the attacks come up woefully short of making contact. "Hold still!" she demands unreasonably, stepping back at the second miss and looking around just in time to see her hubby get dragged off to solitary. This is going to get expensive. "Are we done yet?" she shouts to Tarion, and Siha, and really anyone else who knows what she's asking and why.

Vex just keeps. On. Screaming.

Even as Slick is hurdling over her to get at the Ryn that has done absolutely nothing to her, "HE KRIFFIN' STABBED ME!" She lies. She goads. She yowls and carries on in the most pitiful, yet strangely convincing act.

It might be because there actually IS a shiv sticking out of her, but let's not speculate.

"AND... AND HE CALLED ME A," Shoot. What would make the Trando even more angry? She takes herself a moment to breath in shallow gasping breaths, swallowing the heaving, stuttered huffs, eyes darting about like she could find the word hidden somewhere in the room, "A... bwuh..." Well, at least it's distracting her from the absolute agony burning through her thigh. "A... A-A SCHUTTAAA-HA-HAAUUUUU!" She begins crying the reptilliest of crocodile tears, wailing for the gods, her head thrown back as she sits there openly sobbing in the middle of the room.

She sure does know how to get that Trando ragin'.

She's too caught up in the production to fully appreciate Siha's vengeance. She'll have to watch the video later.

Domino frowns as her hasty attempt at contribution to the little operation proves not to have been worth the unseemly grunting and broken nail. There's a shrug and then a wary eye cast towards the violence. Kryll continues to workout and there's a brief rubbing of her face in exasperation as she too decides just to find someplace out of the way to keep an eye on her swole lil lamb while the professionals do their thing-

-That is UNTIL she sees Kasia's plight and looks around. Dadbod and Kryll are out, others are injured. She siiiiiiighs and sprints towards thick issuing a high-pitched shriek and bum rushes Thicc from behind and sends a foot right for the sweet spot while he's distracted, "C'mon, forget him let's go, go!"

The architect of this disaster laughs from up on his smooth, anti-weapon-of-opportunity table. "Did you see that? Hahaha, I can't believe they could lift him!" Tarion points and laughs as his once and future boss is carted away by prison security. Someone yells something about a 'signal', and he blinks in Siha's direction. "Signal? Oh krif, a /signal./ Yeah, we probably should have had one of those." Hm.

Hopping down from the table, Tarion wanders over through the melee to the nearest available camera, standing in front of it and ducking a cateria tray that's been sharpened into a disc of devastation that whistles over his head. Looking into the glass eye, he just says, "The time has COME and I'll give you a bonus!"

The door Domino had been struggling with shoots open again, like magic, and no guards come hovering out. "Grab him!" Tarion yells again, hustling over and nearly tripping over an Aqualish that's trying to gnaw a Weequay's hand off. "I'll get his feet!"

Slick is so mad that he could puke.

Actually.

He's staring daggers at the Ryn as he stands over Vex, and then. Oh no. You called her a WHAT? His cheeks puff for a moment, and then it's like a cat.

.. Glurk.. glurk glurk glurk... GLURK...

He vomits down into his palm. It's unpleasant, but amid the puke comes a long cylinder with a large blunt end. Gods know how he managed to get it down his gullet, but he kept it there and then brings it up. He holds it in his hand, high enough that it's visible. Well. With something dripping off it. But we don't talk about that.

"ANYONE INTERRUPTSSSS USSSS LEAVING AND I SSSSET THISSSS OFF."

He then points a claw at the Ryn. "You are coming with me. Or I pull thissss pin and throw it at you." Ah. Priorities.

Scrambling away from her opponent at Tarion's shout, Mujiji drops to all fours and rushes at the melee, and the (hopefully correct) Devaronian being hauled out of it. Struggling to lift an arm, Mujiji's legs go out from under her all at once, briefly pinning her to the ground beneath the Devaronian. With a comical 'HRRK' she is only freed when one of the normal sized associates lifts the guy - giving her a wonderful view of Slick vomitting an explosive into his own hand.

Mujiji is only impressed.

Is this what love feels like? Wielding her tiny shiv, the kushiban snarls as she shuffles backwards, thrusting it threateningly at anyone that could possibly DARE come any closer to their prize.

Siha Archer reaches down to try and help out with the Devaronian, but she's all thumbs and gosh, after shanking so much her arms are a bit weak. That last one ..while sweet, took a lot out of the very battered and broken Mandalorian who has seen a LOT of injuries and battles in her short time on this world.

Her shank is slipped into a thigh pocket as she bends forwards, dripping blood from the Rodian as she reaches out for the Devaronians shoulders, only to find that Kasia's head is coming in straight for hers with an upward glance, eyes going wide. Unable to avoid a collision because her cybernetic leg collapses a little, it looks like Kas and Siha are going to share a very intimate keldabe kiss. FINALLY SHE SCORES.

Well Kasia's attempted murder didn't go so well, so she simply slinks away from the thicc boi and over to their actual target. It's probably their target, right? "I would like to get out of here now, I have to go shower, change, and then come bail my husband back out of here." She's scratching at her neck with one hand while leaning in to reach out with the other, not paying nearly enough attention to what she's doing here which is her part in how she and Siha collide. At the very last second she's got the sense that there's something there, but it's too late. She looks up just in time for her face to connect with Siha's. SMOOSH. Smooch? It's not exactly a sexy kiss, because there's some serious nose contact happening here that even amateurs know to avoid. One of them IS a Mandalorian though, maybe that's just how it goes with their culture. Either way Kasia staggers back with a bloodied nose, but now Siha can claim they made out.

Domino winces in sympathy at the sudden collision but she pivots around the pair and slides her slender arms underneath armpits and locks her hands on his shoulders to keep him from flailing as she lifts him up with a girlish grunt but otherwise seems to have zero problem hauling, "As soon as I get rid of this dead wait here I'll take a look at that for you if you need, beautiful." She sounds a lil breathy but she's bearing the weight without issue. Also, Electrician, Slicer, now Fighter and Medic? Maybe someone did the Galaxy a favor and replaced Dom with an HRD and programmed it with actual useful skills instead of converting oxygen into complaints like the original model did.

From the door on the other side of the yard, guard droids continue to issue forth in small fleets, grabbing up inmates one by one according to their programmed priority list and hauling them off to join the Pudding Man in solitary confinement. Legend will tell that he was green, loud, and had a Rylish accent.

Domino and Tarion have Manko hauled up between them, or what's left of the Devaronian man, barely breathing and with a target on his back across the wide landscape of Nar Shaddaa's underworld as big as the deck of his crooked cards. "Let's get out of here," Tarion announces loudly, and shuffles off awkwardly towards the open door his contact inside the prison is still holding open for them.

The other inmates give these particular lunatics a wide berth, having just witnessed one of their number beat several of their number senseless and then spontaneously generate a grenade from his own bile through sheer force of will. Ain't nobody eager to tangle with that.

"Take him!" One yells about the Ryn, and from somewhere in the back, another agrees. "Take him!" It's the start of a chant that slowly goes up around the yard. "TAKE. HIM. TAKE. HIM. TAKE. HIM." Unopposed, the infiltrators exit into the hallway with their twin cargoes and the door slams shut behind them.

"Please- follow- me-" a mechanical voice announces. "You are being ejected from- Shadow-gate Prison. Please enjoy your day. Please do not give cause to re-turn. Please. Or suffer the conse-quences. Please."

A short walk and a few more polite but sinister warnings later, they're on the outside again, blinking in the light of real, honest-to-Nar simulated sun. "I think that counts as alive," Tarion decides as he drops the unconscious figure of Manko Rubinz on the duracrete. "Thanks for your help! You get the full half split all the various ways." Smiling brightly, he gives the body a nudge with his foot. "Ol' Manno Dubbinz."