Log:Life's A Beach

Life's A Beach

OOC Date: February 22, 2019
Location: Kothlis
Participants: Ambrosia Greystorm, Corr Waldin, D4-K4, Eko, Ektor, Grayson Oakfell, Kasia Ashkuri, Maeve Zavir, Merek, Miri Sakir, Rance Hood, Sapphira Solari, Sar Yavok, Tallissan Lintra

-.-< Beachfront - Tal'cara City, Kothlis >-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-. A duracrete road from the city leads through the grassy plans that eventually turn to white sandy beaches. Palm trees line the areas between the grass and the sand and places to sit and relax are built up beneath the trees.

The beaches are generally filled with tourists and people enjoying the waters crashing onto the shore like any other beach in the galaxy on a planet this hospitable toward the average lifeform... however there's one rather large difference on the horizon from most planets.

Many kilometers off shore looms the crashed wreckage of the Imperial Star Destroyer 'Motivator'. Its ruined hull is speared into the waters with the aft end of the ship still visible above the ocean waters. To far away to swim to, the Star Destroyer looms as a reminder of the galaxy's past. -.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.-.-=-.< 4 Offline Players >-.-

When the Loth-Wolves throw a party, they mean business. And by business, they mean an absolute rager. They have cordoned off a large swath of beach, choosing the stretch with the best view of the very reason this beach was chosen: a downed Star Destroyer, the Motivator, sticking out of the ocean like a giant, misplaced dart. While the ship is too far out to swim to, there are a few small motorboats that can be rented to intrepid explorers. The water is clear and warm, with gentle waves, perfect for swimming, floating, and bobbing along while chatting with friends.

Tarps have been fashioned into sunshades and pavilions. One sunshade has several mismatched chairs and benches, presumably for individuals who aren't that keen on sun exposure. Another one protects the sound system, manned by Henibi, a surprisingly talented R4 unit. One off to the side shades a Twi'lek tattoo artist (normally he works in the mess on the Ackbar, but his reputation precedes him!), who has set up a chair. The largest pavilion covers a bountiful spread of finger foods and a serve-yourself open bar. In a pit up by the dunes, some large beast is being slow-roasted.

This is a celebration of life. This is a celebration of love. This is a celebration of everything we're fighting for.

The sound of calmly crashing waves provides a background musical accompaniment for the many people who are crowded along the waters edge enjoying the beach and the wonderful weather in which to spend a day at the beach. The backdrop of the wreckage of the ISD 'Motivator' seems to be a particular favorite tourist attraction, and more than one motor boat braves the waves to bring tourists out to get their selfies snapped with the hull in the background. For those on shore there's a party in the offing and, as an aside, a wedding taking place right there on the white sands of the beach under one of the tarps. With friends and comrades in arms standing in witness, the age-old questions are asked and answered. Promises are made, vows and rings are exchanged.

Now that all of that lame stuff is out of the way, Leia, the officiant says those words everybody who's been so bored the whole time and itching to get to the party; "You may now kiss the bride." She probably throws in a 'And may the Force be with you', too, because well...everybody here knows she does.

And so, without further ado, Sar reaches up with his hands and plants a kiss on Maeve's lips, sealing the deal, as it were.

Ladies and gentlemen, Sar Yavok and Maeve Zavir just got married!

Sapphira came dressed for a wedding. Even if it doesn't fit the mood of the rager afterparty, by thunder she's going to dress to show respect to the institution of marriage and those people who are entering it. For most people, Sapphira is technically Sar Yavok's offspring. Perhaps that's why she is so keen on the matter. Leading up to the nuptuils, she had some flowers from Naboo that she used to decorate pavillion.

But the dress. It's red and appears to be some sort of space-latex, with shoulders but no sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that is literally cut out in the shape of a heart. The dress has a bit of a full waist and then falls straight down to the ground. However, it is layered with a sheer gold fabric on top, decorated with little swirls, to soften the whole look. To manage in the sand she's gone barefoot, but that means she has to lift the skirts of the dress wherever she goes. Overdressed? DON'T CARE IT'S A WEDDING! She'll sit through the ceremony, looking upon the newlyweds with intense contentment and just a bit of a smirk. When the pair finally kiss, she will clap and cheer with everyone else, and perhaps throw a few flowers at them. Because she can.

Ektor is a mess. Wearing only water shorts, an unbuttoned shirt in some faded, gaudy floral pattern that someone with better taste clearly discarded, and- inexplicably- one of those old Imperial Navy black bowl helmets on his head, its condition worse for about thirty years of exposure. Still dripping wet from a recent swim, the Tionese looks far more a beach bum than an officer. The words are spoken, the ceremony done. "Arright, FINALLY," he cheers, adding a long whistle.

Grayson Oakfell is most definitely not a friend of anyone here, but she is the sweetie of one Corr Waldin who has for some reason invited her to this affair. Probably because, they're, you know, bumpin' uglies. WISELY he did not tell them where they were going, and as she dressed on his slow, so slow, awful, not at all luxurious ship, he flew them to Naboo, landed them, and waited patiently for her to put on the last beautiful touches to her attire for this wedding.

She is a damn snack.

Having never been to Naboo and only having had experience with their wine, she sweetly, and naively, followed along to the wedding reception on Corrs' arm, ever a rich noble with impeccable posture and a gliding, catlike walk. Leaning into Corr she'd make a comment here and there softly into his ear, fussing over his new fancy shirt and laying on quiet compliments on how the color suits him so well and how darling he looks. When the bride and groom kiss she'll make another comment to Corr, ever so soft as lips move silently in against his earlobe. She is, like Sap, perhaps overdressed, though no doubt whispered compliments were given to the latex outfit.

The 'wedding' part of this whole shindig was a fairly last-minute addition, so Miri did /not/ come dressed for a wedding. She's in a purple and silver two-piece swimsuit, a green floral sarong tied at one hip. In her hand is some kind of highly alcoholic fruity drink, served in the very shell of the fruit it was made from. There is also a tiny umbrella and a crazy straw. She applauds with one hand against her thigh as the couple are declared officially wed, swatting away a bold and curious seabird who is attempting to steal her straw.

Sharing a grin with Sar, because some things just earn a grin and getting married really makes that cut, Mae kisses Sar again before she turns to murmur a thank-you to Leia. Wedding accomplished, and a debate to be had about who is taking whose name to be had at a later moment, Mae leans in and reminds sar, "Sar Zavir has a nice ring to it."

Merek had come to watch the officiation of the wedding, and settled in with some things within his package, while he waits for the full marriage, with a cheer for them. Well, something like one, as he takes his time to wait and places the wedding gifts which he brought at a place they can pick it up.

"Is it over yet?" Corr mutters back to Grayson, self-consciously crossing his arms over his chest while she leans into him and whispers at his ear. He's dressed in a ~new~ shirt that's just as plain as the one it replaced, his outfit stubbornly casual and still somehow unsuitable for the event here on the beach. "I can't even begin to tell you all the things I'm surprised by here tonight," he confers to her in a stage-whisper, but, he's not going to list them off, just shaking his head instead. He's giftless, but look how pretty Grayson is. You're welcome.

"I say it's time for a drink, my dear Ek!" Moving to the music, its party time and Tallie is in as non-uniform as it gets: the lace coverup fools the eye - coral pink and loose for the heat, the bikini underneath of cobalt blue peeks and disappears as she moves across the beach behind Ektor to join the group. Her slender feet leave divots in the loose sand as her long legs flash from under the slit along the side of the dress. A little sun earlier in the day left a light blush across her peach skin brushing the outline of her cheek and collarbones with color. "Yep, I am thirsty!"

"It does, but..Maeve Yavok; I mean, that's a /strong/ name," Sar grins back to her. Taking each others hands, the couple turn to face the on-lookers. The clasped hands are raised and Sar looks over to Maeve, "We can just leave now, right? I've got my PTO lined up and everything."

Sapphira has left her gift on the gift table, and remains under the pavillion long enough to hear Sar's announcement. She rolls her eyes and smirks at the man, but it's fond. When appropriate, she'll approach the newlyweds, and move to give each a kiss on the cheek and soft words of congratulations. Maeve in particular might get a hand squeeze. Then she will make room for others to do the same.

Ektor turns an eye toward Tallie as she joins the cheering. With a raised brow, the Tionese pilot drawls, "First off, yelling 'I am thirsty' is gonna get you some funny looks today, yeah?" A crooked grin and snicker follow. "Second, let's ask Miri where they stashed the good stuff, yeah? Anybody's gonna know where it's at today, its her." He gestures for Tallie to move with him toward where Miri is posted fighting off aerial predators which hunt her fruity booze. On his limping way over the beach, he grins again and hollers to Maeve, "Leave! Take him and never bring him back, yeah?"

The little astromech droid who has been tasked with DJing decides this is the appropriate moment to PUMP UP THE DANCE TUNES.

Nuptials. In her suprisingly lengthy history of living, Ambrosia Greystorm had been in attendance of one, to date. Her own, months after the motivating offspring was popped out the hatch. This makes two. When the ceremony's punctuated by a lipsmack, the general blows a little sigh through her lips she hadn't realized was held in and golf-claps along with the rest. A side glance of scorn to all the ships ferrying to and fro the downed destroyer takes note of the rise in swells on the horizon. Mayhap a swim later. But for now...

The gracefully aged dog of war abandons her post of surveillance atop the shallows dune and strolls down in sandaled feet. Her own ensemble chosen for this affair is likely the most 'human' she'll have appeared to her troops in years. Save for the stint spent on life support following the Sullust disaster. Hair is left to blow in the wind, sand creep up between her toes...even her unfortunate BallandChain doesn't get this sort of softness. "Congratulations. For how long should I mark your request for leave?" The words are flat, but there's the tiniest hint of warmth in those eyes as they swuint against the sun. And in her slightly crooked smile. That left side of her face just can't emote like it used to. The tremors, at least, are held at bay by 'medicine'.

Miri catches sight of Ektor and Tallie, doing a little twirl-dance as she makes her way over. Her hair is loose, for once, and it reaches the small of her back, ocean-damp. "Is this a party or what?" she says with a huge grin, then ducks and swats at the seabird, hissing at it. That... actually seems to work. "Happy birthday, loser," she says to Ektor, giving him a little punch in the arm. "Here, try this," she says to Tallie, handing over her fruity drink for a taste.

Maeve hugs Sapphira, no simple hand squeeze will do, they're all family now after all. "Truth, it's not a bad sounding name, but we could loop in Sapphira and everyone could be a Zavir," she counters with a grin. See? Debate. Mae exhales a laugh as Ektor hollers out the suggestion to take Sar and never let him come back. "I'd vote for that but," and she gives a particularly amused sort of shrug before invading Ambrosia's personal-space and hugging the Greystorm matriarch. "You know Sar, if there's a fight in the offing, leave or no leave, he'll be there to kick ass, take names," said as the DJ astromech cranks up the volume and the party kicks up another few levels of awesome.

Grinning doesn't cover Tallie's blush of embarrassment. "I didn't want to cry, I cry at weddings and swore I wouldn't...so I act inappropriate. First congratulations to them and then drinks."

Grayson Oakfell leans into Corr and deposits one sweet peck upon his cheek, squeezing his arm as she encourages him, "Go and greet your friends in congratulations. I will stand back like your trophy woman." Her accent is thick and delightful, the woman smiling brightly as warm brown eyes take in the beach, the broken ship in the distance, the poor doctor thinking 1. This might be Naboo, he did say it was a surprise. And 2. What a lovely broken ship, not having taken part in the battle as she's just a sweet defenseless doctor in love with a man of Beige. If he does leave she'll stay back in the chairs dug into the stands, standing and clasping her hands towards her chest, delighted by the nuptials of her enemies unknowingly. Even a bad guy can't help but like a good wedding. Even if the booze is bottom shelf.

Kadi and Ax are there, behaving for once, quiet and behaving themselves. For once. They aren't saying much or anything, but they are there.

Ektor cackles in his throat at Miri's arm punch and well wishes. "Nice of you to say so, you toothless slug," he grins back at the Loth Wolf. The grin lingers as he turns his eye around the festivities. "No lie? This is pretty great." Tallie's embarassment gets a lazzy shrug, "Sunshine, getting drunk and saying inappropriate drek at weddings is the ENTIRE point of weddings. No worries, yeah?" He does eye the seabird, pulling his scavenged Imperial helmet off and chucking it at the avian with a laugh.

It's a nice tourist attraction, regardless, and anyone can appreciate that, GRAYSON. Corr is doing just that when she squeezes his arm and sends him off, and so with a sheepish glance around to see if there's any good excuses left to /not/ go up there, he heads up there. Boots paff softly through the sand as he approaches the couple, stopping short and accosting Sar like a pair of gunslingers. "Not sure as how you conned this poor lady into it, but, I figure congratulations are in order, and my condolences to the bride," he announces before stepping forward and shoving his hand out towards Sar for a classic bro-hug.

Miri Sakir will thread her arm through Tallie's if she lets her. "Nothing wrong with crying at weddings. Or with getting drunk and doing something dumb. Want to get drunk and do something dumb?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "Ektor, where the hell did you get that helmet? I know you didn't swim out to the Star Destroyer." Or... or... or did he? The moment of doubt is visible on her face.

"Thanks, kid," Sar responds to Sapphira, allowing his stubbly cheek to be kissed and returning one in-kind. Then Ambers's approaching. "A week'll do me just fine," Sar anwers with a smile to her, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze in thanks for her actually showing up.

Then there's Corr. Thankfully, no guns are pulled (yet), and Sar's face lights up with a big grin. "Waldin, c'mere you good for nothin' dirt-hound," he says, stepping forward and foregoing the standard bro-hug for a complete envelopment of the young man. Releasing him shortly after, Sar says, "Y'ain't gotta con 'em when you're as pretty as me, kid."

Mae slips through the partying and drinking throng and finds Kadi and Ax, both of whom get a hug but she lingers with Kadi, wearing a grin as she links arms with Kadi for a moment. "Look at this party. This is way, way more fun than anything I could've planned."

Sapphira laughs softly with Maeve, muttering conspiritorially. "Sapphira Zavir? I think I'm due for a new name now, and I like it." Sar gets a little look of mischeif as Sapphira throws her weight into the fight, which is technically nonexistant, behind Maeve. As the General approaches, Sapphira does what Sapphira does best, which is avoid being noticed by senior leadership. Scoot!

Sapphira has to lift her skirts to walk, short stubby lil thing that she is, so she can't hold a drink. Not that she could have one anyway. As she walks, she pauses by Grayson, the woman entirely unknown to her. Yet the woman is dressed to smoke, and Sapphira does the womanly up-down of the attire and smiles in appreciation, nodding to the other overdressed woman. "Mind the seaspray," she warns. "Tide's coming in and I doubt sea water does decent fabric any favors."

This is why she's only been to O-TWO weddings. Public Displays of Affection. The old Ice Queen Aderanne turns to stone in the loving arms of Maeve, but she doesn't shove her down into the ciggy-spec'd sand, either. "Splendid," she murmurs and stiffly raises a hand to pat the new bride on the back. Once. Twice might have happened, but a blurred incoming in her peripherary prompts that hand to shoot out and ward off the projecticle. Helmet.

"One week," she echoes back to Sar, spares Sapphira a glance, then takes a step back while Corr steps up, to examine the helmet caught by her left hand. Her 'off' hand, but better hand, for all its cybernetic wonders. It's recognized immediately for what it is and a look of sharp annoyance shoots in the direction of its origination. Searching for the sniper, as it were. "Excuse me," she purrs softly and sets off, hawkish mom glare spying a certain, notorious mischief maker.

Grayson Oakfell takes the time, while Corr greets his AWFUL FRIENDS, to draw a compact mirror out of a small purse she carries on the crook of her left elbow, lips pursing as she checks herself out in the reflection. The woman makes sure her lip liner and lipstick are both on point, Sapphira's interruption only serving as a very appreciated warning, compact lowering as pinky draws away from her bottom lip, honeyed eyes warm as they take in Sapphira, "Oh look at /you/, I am very much in delight I am not the only one who dressed for a proper occasion. You look a ~dream~." Cooed winsomely, Grayson likely having pre-gamed before arriving to the wedding itself, in a mood to compliment those who deserve as much.

"I am appreciating the warning, my love, I will avoid, this dress takes weeks to properly clean as I am sure you know." Then with a delightful smile that includes the tip of her tongue being bitten down on just slightly, she'll lean in towards Saphhira, "You must tell me of your tailor, or seamstress. Honestly, you are a vision." Elbow gently nudges the air near Saph, "If I was not already taken with another ..." Ooh, what has Grayson been drinking. Someone better ask her to share. A sudden 'oh', Grayson folding compact holding arm in against her chest to dig with the other hand into her purse, drawing out a lipstick tube of ox-blood red lipstick, "This would push your look /beyond/ any compare. Please, it is yours. I can not, in good manners, keep it from you." Her accent once more drops words in a saccharine manner. But entirely meant.

Striding along the road and out onto the beach comes D4-K4. Hips shaking in a little dance step as he goes. a soft bit of lute and flute music is coming from its' vocalizer, and the droid seems only relatively aware of its surroundings as it comes upon the gatherum. Once at the sand the droid paunces, dips a toe in "Ooo! Toasty!" and then begins walking along - turning in half circles and full spirals, body rotating from the waist down, with the torso remaining generally on point as it twirls spiral and geometric patterns into the sand along its new path.

Ektor grins back at Miri. "Found it on the big boat," he states of the old helmet, gesturing out at the downed Star Destroyer. "Drink up, Sunshine: She-wolf keeps the good stuff-" Belatedly, he notices the effects of his aawful helmet hurl, and the direction it wound up flying. "...You know, of all the directions it COULD'VE gone, that's- that's almost impressive, if you think about it," he mutters to Miri and Tallie. "Annnnd here she comes. Yep, I'm rekked." Broad smile affected. "Warning in advance," he drawls to Amber, "If you wanna swipe my booze again, I ain't got any on me, yeah?"

Released from the embrace of the ultimate bromance, Corr will turn a small smile Maeve's way while she's off mingling with the droid army, before fading back away from the center of attention. His duty done, the man returns to Grayson's side, slipping an arm around her to rest on the small of her finely-dressed back. His attire is much plainer, but it does have the presence of a good quality tailor's hand, at least, and he doesn't seem wholly out of place next to the doctor. "Makin' friends?" he asks, directing his gaze towards Sapphira and her new tube of lipstick. "M'Corr, he greets the other, holding out a rough hand. "Sar 'n I used to run together." Eko removes her TX-3 Armored Flight Suit - 14937.

"Did you know that big hunk of junk was called the 'Motivator'?" Miri asks Ektor with a grin, then covers her face with her drink as she cracks up at his predicament. "That's what you get for throwing drek on a crowded beach, dumbnut," she manages to get out, snorfling some of her drink and coughing. The sun has brought out a few freckles on her cheeks and it seems to be working for her.

Sapphira can't help it. She blushes, and the color seeps into her pale skin quite easily. "Oh," she says, sheepishly looking down and swishing her skirt just a little. Because they are just poofy enough to be swishy, and under the weight of compliments she just can't help herself. Unlike Grayson, Sapphira is stone cold sober; the result of STILL MISSING HALF A LIVER DAMMIT ARGH!

"Thank you. It's off Nar, in the Corellian distrit. It's actually kind of funny; there's these two twin twi'lik systers and they /hate/ each other," Sapphira explains, becoming a bit more open and animated with the confidence of telling a good story. "Not the kind of hate each other to move to opposite sides of the moon. No, they have shops directly next door to one another. The one, Kata, she's great for clubwear, cocktail wear, stuff like that. 'Lil hooch, ya know?" Does Grayson know? Doesn't matter, story goes on.

"The other sister, Sina, she's all about class and couture. What's great is that if you get to know both a little bit you can play them off each other. Just mention to Kata that Sina has something that works a little better, or that Kata can do the same kind of look for half the price, and they start frothing. Quality skyrockets, prices drop, all at the hope of getting a word about how drekky the other sister's work is from a customer."

Story finally told, Sapphira pauses to glance over at Ektor and the General, who has other fish to fry than the little El-Tee. Awesome. "Ha! And here I thought I'd have to shoot him tonight, but he's shot himself."

She turns back to Grayson, oh-ing at the presence of the lipstick. "Oh, I've actually got ... I think it's the same color," the redhead notes, digging in her pockets (yes, pockets) for a lipstick tube. The color, once opened, is very, very similar. "Would it be alright if I borrwed your mirror, though?" Just as the question is out, there's Corr with an offered hand. Sapphira looks at him, looks at the hand, and back to him. "Uh, yessir," she says, sounding slow and confused. "I uh ... I used to work for you, sir. How are you?"

Eko shows up a bit later than the wedding participants. Currently she's hauling a crate of booze out in her arms. Dressed in some faded grey coveralls, she sheds her shoes and socks at the edge of the beach, rolls up her pants, and heaves the crate up. Her coveralls are open some, revealing a simple black wifebeater. At her hip she carries her EL-718. First stop? She approaches the DJ, setting down her crate to leave a bottle behind. Then she moves on to the tattoo artist.

The little astromech droid who is DJing chirps happily at Eko. She can't drink, but she appreciates the gesture! At some point, someone put a lei on the R4 unit and she seems pleased as punch about it. She puts on a slow jam.

Maeve moves through the party, saying Hi here and there, nodding to snippets of conversation, smiling at Corr as they're re-introduced, "Used to, eh?" she wonders with a smile at Corr and seeks out a drink for herself then takes a plate to sample some of the food that's on display beneath the pavilion. Eat, drink, be merry!

"You been doin' alright? Been meaning to stop by the ol' hangar, but, as you can see, I been a little busy," Sar says to Corr, looking the man over before his eyes fall fondly on his newly-appointed wife who's run off to go get food and liquor, because of course she has.

Merek makes his way to find some food and drink, while he listens to others as he watches the proceedings. He seems to be content with his thoughts for the moment as he does. Working its way to Sapphira, D4, wanders, weaving through the crowds as best it can - using its telemetry systems to shift, juke, dip and even dipsy doodle until it can get within respectful level of closeness, making sure she has her space, waiting patiently after giving a twiddly finger wave to the woman in fancy dress.

Grayson Oakfell listens in rapt fascination with Sapphira, never in a million light years having expected that she'd meet someone she could connect with our of Corrs' friends, "I am familiar, yes." Wearing a delighted smile she listens to the tea Sapphira spills, "Very much of a hooching kind, yes." Accented voice readily agrees and she'll glance to Corr, reaching out to him with lipstick holding hand, "I have, Corr, this beautiful vision has not told me her name, but I already feel as if she is a sister." She has no sisters. Touching his elbow she'll smile to Saph, "She knows of Kata and Sina, Sina and I are very close, but I did not know that one would try to outdo the other! Sina /refuses/ to talk of her sister." Brightly stated as she slides a hand to touch Corrs' elbow, equally as delighted, but more mutedly so, for the showing of the lipstick, "I should not have doubted your fashion sense, of course." Her compact is held out, a beautifully ornate shimmering shell that opens up, to Sap. As Sar talks to Corr she'll smile, leaning into Corr and his arm, "A beautiful wedding, many wishes of happiness to your and yours." Beam.

"There's cake," Maeve remarks to Merek with a smile, having balanced a random selection of food from the table on the plate she's carrying, the drink she's acquired is tucked into the crook of her left arm. "I'm debating.. how many plates I can carry at once," she admits with a grin.

"This belongs on the seafloor, shat upon by all which creeps and writhes in its murky depths," Ambrosia flings the helmet into the sand at Ektor's feet, then spits - a close miss, it lands alongside - for good measure. As for confiscations, she's no buzz kill. Not in /that/ way. The graying blond lifts her chin a touch indignantly, offers his partying companions a little glance and upnod, then slips a golden flask from her metal-link belt. "That being said and translucently clear...bottoms up." A toast to open air, a sip, and grumpy Greystorm is meandering on along elsewhere.

"Well! Good to see you still breathin', then," Corr replies warmly to Sapphira, not bothering to seem nonplussed by his inability to recognize her, dressed up and made up, as the grease-monkey who used to service some of the Explorer's Guild's ships. "We got crazy turnover. I hired a doctor on one time, he came on one job, one job, and I never seen him since," he'll explain to her, holding up a single finger in indication of that lofty number.

"Used to," is confirmed for Maeve, with a tight-lipped smile that might be a grimace if the interpretation is less generous. "Sar's a full half of that turnover I mentioned between comin' and goin'. And I can see that," the explorer adds for Sar's benefit, the grismile widening slightly as Grayson clings onto him and dooms him by asking his former employee's name. "This is uh... Sapphire- Sapphire Sol- Sapphire Solan...o?" Killing it here. "It's been a while."

"Just give it to the next person who asks you to play a crappy song," Eko calls out to the droid behind her, shifting the crate so she can deliver a no-look thumbs up. She sets the drinks down next to the tattoo artist, raking her fingers through her hair as she squats down and confers on personal choices as well as, "Let me make you a little ice chest here." Why? Well, it's not immediately apparent. Eko moseys over to the other ice chests and starts stealing a little ice out of each one, putting only a few bottles into the other chests to make room for the new cooling material. Once the booze is tightly packed with ice, she returns, drops the crate off, and slaps a crudely written sign on it that says, "For those who can't hack it."

"Oh, they won't mention each other. That's the key; you gotta kinda casually bring it up. I had a friend a couple years ago who was real ham-handed about the whole thing and got thrown out. By Sina, naturally. Still isn't allowed back in. Oh, thank you." She pauses in her discussion with Corr to pluck up the Oakfell's mirror, holding the thing quite gently as though afraid her mere hand might break it. Lipstick freshly applied, she caps it and tucks it back in the pocket (yes, pocket!) and the mirror is handed back over.

"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. But he doesn't sound like a very /good/ doctor, so I suppose it's a blessing in that regard. Sap's fine," Sapphira, or Sapphire, says mostly to Grayson to put poor Corr out of his momentary misery. The raise of the General's voice draws Sapphira's attention, though, and she turns. "Excuse me for just a moment, I need to watch this," she explains, grinning a shit-eating schedenfreude grin. But when she turns there's a droid! Sapphira blinks in surprise, having not expected to find a droid there waiting for her. "Yes?" she asks the souless peice of machinery. "Can I help you?" At least she's polite, right?

"The Motivator?" Ektor echoes skeptically to Miri. "No lie, whoever names them big ships got the easiest job in the galaaxy, yeah?" A shake of his head. "Saw this prison ship, once.. know what it was called? THE INCARCERATOR. True story! Pretty sure one of them big destroyers is straight up named the 'Overcompensator'." Then here's Amber, throwing down the helmet and spitting,  before taking a drink and moving off. A slow grin aside to Miri. "Lucky me, yeah? Even if she did miss the ocean floor with that toss. Ain't everybody got aim like mine, yeah?"

Merek offers up a wave to some of those he knows, while he makes his way on for the time being, from the festivities of the wedding also.

The slow jam is over, and the little DJ astromech pumps up the dance music again. Somehow, a conical party hat has ended up on her head. "Who's your lady friend?" Sar asks of Corr. "Surely this ain't like your /actual/ lady friend, right? Like, she must've lost a bet or something?" he asks, looking over at Grayson with a warm smile. Seems Sar's genuinely happy for the first time in a long while.

Jerking slightly at Sapphira's surpise, D4 fingerwaves once again. "Hi there, I'm D4-K4, I heard you were getting married while I was in the area hunting." it leans forward slightly, stage-whispering conspiratorially "You've likely been inundated without stop, but your geometric shaping by the form of your attire is pleasing." It leans back again, the optic band on its facimilie head flashing. "I just wanted to wish you good fortune and prosperity."

"Before he forgets who I am as well, I am Grayson, my friends call me Gray." Quickly offered, Grayson beyond enamored with Sapphira, listening as raptly as before, "You know I will be trying to get all of the leaves of tea in mentioning her sister now. /Where/ have you been all my life?" Teasingly asked, spotting the POCKETS which elicit a soft gasp of surprised delight, "Of course, Saph, it was a delight, please, contact Corr to get my information, I absolutely demand you join me for a wine and edibles night." The compact is taken and slipped back into her purse, her own outrageously expensive dress lacking pockets. A murmur to Corr, likely one of 'I will speak to Sani about pockets. How outrageous she has not outfitted me with such'. Or 'There is a dune over there with our name on it ...'. Who knows. But Sars' question has Grayson blushing just enough to not be tawdry, gaze dipping as she holds a hand out, "No bets, I am his as you say 'actual' lady friend." Look at that coquettish smile and fluttering of dark lashes, slanting a look to Corr, pleased to be identified as such to his good friends. Unless he admits he lost bet. Cuz you know it's true.

Balancing plate, and drink, Maeve wanders back to where Sar and others are gathered, angling the plate to share with Sar. "So I'm thinking that we should find some can's of spray paint and go out there and tag that ship with all of our names, or initials at least. We were here!"

"The /Incarcerator/? More proof that the creatives choose our side. They'd never name a fighter 'Bettina'. I can guaran-kriffing-tee that." Miri scratches the side of her nose. "See that sand castle over there?" she says, gesturing toward the water's edge with her chin. "Got a bottle of good rum buried under that."

"Of course," Sapphira says to Gray, and she can't help but beaming. Being adults, friendships are hard to make. DID ONE JUST BLOSSOM HERE?!

But the droid. The droid is talking. The droid is talking about ... what? Based on Sapphira's facial expression, she doesn't know. "N-no..." she says slowly to the toaster. "I'm not getting married. They just got married," she explains, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to either Maeve and Sar or Corr and Gray. Or Gray and Sar or Corr and Maeve. Or, really, Gray and Maeve or Corr and Sar. WHO KNOWS.

"But thank you, I think," she says, looking down at the dress and smoothing a hand down her skirts. "Excuse me a moment." She moves to turn away then so she can go watch Ektor's dressing down, which is exceedingly disappointing. She might have to shoot him for amusement after all.

"No lie, on my momma's grave," Ektor swears with upraised hands. His ear perks at mention of vandalism, drawing a muttered, "Too late," and a crooked smile. He follows the Loth Wolf's point toward the sand castle. "Oooh. Castles with treasure in the basement is the best kind a castle, yeah? You gonna storm the castle now, or wait til the party thinned out a bit?" He's distracted, Saph would have such an easy shot...

It's Sar and Corr's wedding. Duh. "Actual lady friend," Corr confirms quietly, finding Gray's hand with his when she finishes with the compact and whatever she's letting Sar do to the other one, lacing fingers together. "This is Grayson, we live on Nar," he repeats. Where is she from? Where is he from? WHO KNOWS. Not having made a soul-bond friend this evening, his eyes are drawn over towards one dune in particular, and it's with a bit of difficulty that he's able to shake himself around to adding, "Real nice ceremony," for the newlyweds.

"OH! I heard there was a wedding, you looked all gussied up" It looks to Grayson, "She's all nines'd out. Frankly most of the women here look like holozine pitures. You had a crowd around you, figured you were the bride." the droid actually shrugs "I hope you don't mind the mistake ma'am, all you organics look alike when I don't have a bounty-sheet superimposed for diagnostic." it rests its fists on its hips before rotating to look towards Maeve and Sar. "I'll need to go pay my proper respects. Sorry for the confusion!" and then the droid is moving off again, it's got that dance beat in its step again, and it begins playing the same tune as the DJ Astromech, pointing its way "You go baby! YEAH!" even doing a little booty shake dance step on the way.

"Are you kidding me? There's no time like the present!" Miri does a twirl and proceeds to dance her way down the beach to her sand castle, 'accidentally' bumping into random people as she goes, just for shits and giggles. As she passes the newlyweds, she shouts out over the music, "HEY, OLD GUY! I'M PAYING FOR THE FOOD AND BOOZE. HAPPY WEDDING!"

Reaching out to shake Grayson's hand as he would anybody else's. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Gray. I hope you're keepin' him in line, since I ain't around to anymore," he says with a smirk.

The R4 DJ puts on the latest pop hit from Coruscant. Unfortunately, it sounds just like all of the previous pop hits from Coruscant. Someone has put a sticker of a flower on said R4 unit. She doesn't seem to mind.

"No time like the present!" Ektor echoes loudly, meandering with lazy, limping rhythm after Miri down the beach, adding a loud, "STORM THE CASTLE," without context.

A steely eyed look, as much as honey brown eyes can manage right now mid-festivities, is directed to D4 who has insinuated she is a SIZE 9. But she's exchanging pleasanties with her ENEMY, soft and lotioned hand reaching out to take Sars, firmly shaking it, the hands of a surgeon keeping those hand muscles //taut//, "I try, but you know Corr, he is very much his own person." BEIGE. "Very much a pleasure on my part, and again, I am full of celebration for you and your beautiful new bride." But she only has eyes for Saph. And Corr. He's her ride home. Withdrawing her hand from Sar's she drops it into Corrs, squeezing his hand back, "Very nice party --" Said as Miri and Ektor turn it up along with D4, Gray's nostrils flaring a little as she lets out a slightly uncomfortable laugh, trying to look dignified and like she's having fun, "You have very gregarious and .." What is the word in basic, "Lively." She will then slant another look dune-wards, glancing at Corr meaningfully. Nudge.

"Thank you for the party!" Maeve doesn't quite shout but it's loud enough to carry, that's for sure, with a smile and a wave of the drink she's holding to Miri in return. "Storm the castle?" is wondered with a glance around at the sand dunes and the chairs and beach blankets and towels and maze of buckets and coolers loaded with booze. "Best party ever."

Grayson Oakfell doesn't finish her sentence because, welp, she wants to dune it.

Bounty sheet!? Ambrosia's face might be on a few of'em, floatin' around Nar and other FO haunts, still. She sand-swishes on past the battledroid with a sideways, arch-browed look but opts not to dwell on the little dance done by the bot. She does, however, backstep a bit enough to say "Been awhile, Waldin. You still defending the citizens of Nar Shaddaa against the crimes that be?"

Once she reaches her surfside sand castle, Miri drops to her knees on the sand and gestures broadly. "You're the demolitions expert, right?" she says to Ektor when he hobbles his way over. "Go for it. Destroy. Reap the bounty that lies within." Yeah. She's already had a few. "YOU'RE WELCOME!" she shouts over to Maeve.

"Nah, we uh. The office got gutted by a gang with bombs and a grudge. Somethin' about us takin' their leader prisoner," Corr replies to Amber, a little kerfluffled now between the embarrassment of that particular incident and the insistent suggestion of duning it floating around in his head. "These days I lead the Explorer's Guild outta Nar," he explains instead, Grayson's hand tugging slightly at him, and he blinks once or twice as he clears his thoughts, gaining a sort of epiphany that levels him right out. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I'm gonna go look into some explorin' around here as well." Duneward free now to trot, he moves to slip off that way with the foxy lady at his side in tow.

Ektor hums with exaggerated thought as he surveys the sand castle. "Tricky fortification, yeah? Deceptively simple, yet intricate.. See, someone clearly wants us to THINK this gonna be an easy fight, yeah? Normally I'd say start with torpedoes.. but this time?" A glance aside. "FRONTAL ASSAULT," is declared and Ektor belly flops on the sand castle.

Not a little worse for the wear, Tallie wanders back from dancing and drops to her knees next to Ektor and applauds. "Now, if that wasn't a block buster bomb, I don't know my munitions. Whew" She shoves Ektor, "Get up, you crushed all that beautiful work!"

Turning at the sight of Ambrosia, D4 stops and stares. "OH! Hey!" it pauses checking its notes. "Hey! Hey lady!" it starts after Greystorm, hands lifted, 'palms' out. "Lady! Just gotta tell you something! Lady!" A face did pop up on visual scans and it needs to make sure of a couple things to make life easier for itself.

Grayson Oakfell is a sweet, naive healer of the flesh, and knows nothing of bounties save for the ones she's put out for rare vintages of wine and finery. When Corr finally gets the hint Grayson will dip her head graciously at all gathered near, "Truly, a pleasure." Her voice is warm and laughingly sweet in tone, Siha tugging Corr in along behind her as her fabric'd hips sway this way and that, slants of flesh exposed here and there as the hem of her dress drags in the sand and betwixt her knees behind her, the seaspray Saph warned her off earlier hitting the woman though it seems she has not a care about it, taking Corr off for adventuring of their own, drunk on booze and the love in the air. And sweet, weet sand castle makin' and destroyin'.

Miri Sakir dives and rolls out of the way of the Ektor bomb, laughing. "No, there's a SECRET under the castle," she explains to Tallie, digging around in the wreckage of the once-proud fortress, pulling out a bottle of good rum. "I wasn't gonna put this stuff on the bar." She unties her sarong and shakes it out, setting it down on the ground and sits on top of it.

A gravelly little chuckle sounds in the depths of Amber's throat and she watches Corr and woman trot away to disturb some seabird nesting grounds or whatnot. Probably the 'whatnot'. She was young once.

"Enjoy your party," she offers Maeve and Sar a little salute and motions to a very different dune. "I'll be around. Keepin watch." There's not a great deal of room to spare in her outfit, but she's undoubtedly found a place to stash the sidearm or some such companion piece.

Ektor rolls onto his side as he's nudged to move. "Yup, that did it," he judges, dryly, remaining stretched out on the sand. "See, what'd I tell you, Sunshine?" he grins at Tallie, with a thumb aside to Miri. "She-wolf knows where the good bodies is buried. Let's get the hood stuff FLOWING," not that he has much taste to speak of in drink.

Taking Maeve Yavok's hand in his, Sar just smiles a big smile over to his new bride. Squeezing the aforementioned hand, he'll lean in and whisper something in her ear before his attention turns back to the on-going party. "I'm almost mad I left the SFC, y'all. Forgot the kinda party y'all can put on!" Maeve smiles at Sar Zavir and links her hand with his, sharing the drink she's holding as well before she leans against him and lightly kisses him in return. "And I, you," she murmurs before laughing. "You know, if I'd known this is how the SFC parties I'd have trained up to be a pilot myself."

Miri Sakir opens the bottle and raises it. "To, like weddings and massive property damage, but only if it belongs to the Eff-Oh!" she toasts, before taking a long drink, then holding the bottle out for Ektor or Tallie to grab.

And...suddenly it dawns on the wizened general that that 'lady' was meant for her. She stops on her route to the self-chosen security post and turns a less than warm look around at the hounding droid. "...Yes?"

"Ooh, Hear hear!" Maeve remarks with a firm nod, raising her glass again to drink to that particular toast. "To massive property damage, catastrophic failure, chaos, confusion, and all manner of explosions and orbital impacts to the FO and all it's jackboot lemmings."

This is how the SFC parties? "Best pilots in the galaxy, YEAH!" Ektor slurs, making up in volume what he lacks in clarity. "To weddings and.. massive property damage, and big explosions, yeah?" he adds, accepting the bottle and taking a long pull, before passing it to Tallie for her turn. The bride's addendum gets an e enthusiastic, "AND WHAT SHE SAID."

The smile she turns on the 'good' stuff is radiant, deserving of her sobriquet. "I think we can kill this. What do you think Miri - master builder and hider of bottles?" Catching the glare, D4 pauses. "Why does everyone look at me like that!?" resting it's fists on its hips. "I was going to try and extend a courtesy, and didn't want to shout your name out loud!" the droid leans in. "Look, you probably immediately hate me because I'm inorganic, fine. Be that way. I was just going to extend the professional courtesy that due to the ship I travel with, that I am personally ignoring the old bounties that shot up when I saw you. Ok? And the other Order bounties on over half the people I've seen since I got here for the same professional courtesy." the droid stands up straight again, "You can tell your general that too. Ok?" the droids shoulders a little.

Rance Hood wanders himself towards the beach party. He's in disused blue cargo pants and a bright yellow-orange tropical shirt that has explosions set against palm trees patterned all over it. His ballcap has a 'One Size Fits All' logo on it with a blaster laser containing the text. A cigarello hanging out of his mouth, walking in sandals, he approaches Miri. "What have you done and who approved this?" For his credit, he tries to sound serious, speaking the words as he removes a flask from his pocket.

"You skills would have been wasted in the SFC. Buncha no good shrivs as they are," Sar says, grinning out to the collections of pilots that have showned up to wish the couple well. "To life beyond this mud-suckin' war!" he lifts his own bottle of beer as he adds an addendum to that little toast.

"It's why you like us, Sar. It takes one to know one!" Tallie yells back waving the bottle over her head and then passing it back to Miri. Unasked the woman pilot tells 'One Size Fits All' "/I/ approved it if you are asking!"

"A fair point," Maeve agrees even as she gives a mild grimace, "plus, I have a genuine loathing for being shot at. It's really very.. unappealing. I know you get some sort of insane thrill out of it," she remarks with a sidelong smile at Sar Zavir. She grins at Tallie, "Damn right you did. Approval by committee!"

Miri Sakir griiiiiins, takes the bottle, and drinks. "I don't need /your/ approval," she says to Rance, holding the bottle out to him. She flops on her back, just enjoying the sunshine. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure we could kill that bottle. Then I wanna go swimming and get a new tattoo." The twi'lek tattoo artist is currently tattooing a wookiee. He went through about five razors shaving that little patch of skin, which is getting a naked cherub inked on it. Hey, to each their own.

"Like what?" Ambrosia challenges the claim of a 'look', but doesn't deny the assumption he follows it up with. Has she ever been a fan of droids? No. Save for the 1 HRD 'Naga' that wheedled her way into friendship status 30+ years ago. "Oh? How very kind. They've killed me once, you know, but it didn't stick. Maybe some day they'll get it right. Until then, do extend my gratitude to your captain, for choosing the moral high ground in this fray. I'd courteously remind you to mind the sun," a point goes overhead "but looks like you've the advantage over us fleshy folk there."

Compliment??? Hard to say. At any rate, she's resumed course to her little chair in the sand to drink alone. It's what one does at a wedding, no?

"I think it's less the thrill of getting shot at and more the thrill of delivering this big ol' fistful of justice right upside the FO's head," Sar says, smirking back at MAEVE YAVOK. "We should go swimming. You got a change of clothes back on the ship?" he asks, already sliding out of the fancy tunic that Maeve bought for him back on Taris. Look out, Amber. His ripped old man body is about to be on full display.

Ektor cackles at something. "NO GOOD SHRIVS," he echoes, with a fist raised into the air from where he is stretched out on the sand in water shorts and an unbuttoned, garish floral shirt."Kill the bottle! Swim the sea! Get the tatoo!" He blinks. "Drek.. what tattoo should I get?"

Rance looks over to Tallie and seems to give a slow assessment to approval of her own approval. Because he's already had some drinks. "I'll allow that. But only because I'm pretty sure you outrank me by a lot." He waggles a sage finger once. The flask gets an unscrewing nd he takes a sip. "Thank you, by the way, for absolving my guilt of approving some of this. Sure as heck not all of it." The guy lets go a low peal of chuckle and looks back to Miri. "You -asked- for my approval! ..Dang kids and your starfighters.."

One eyebrow arches subtly at Sar Zavir, amusement clear upon her face, "Do I ever -not- have a change of clothing?" Maeve wonders in return. "And I see the logic in that, to a certain extent. The whole fist full of justice, that is. Though add a few kicks, set some things on fire, a few explosions as well, what ever it takes."

"I personally don't care about your war with the First Order. I've watched three major intergallactic conflicts fought over by your kind - and it was the Empire that recognized me and empancipated me as a Free Droid. A citizen recognized and granted similar rights. But I like the captain too, and my friend is on the ship, and in the spirit not giving a rocket propelled cark about what you organics kill eachother over, I'm not going to take bounties that side me to either part of the fight. If you cheese off the wrong private citizen, or a lawful body and governane, then I'm just doing their work, not some militant factions." it lifts its hands in a shrug, "Not to be rude, just to point it out, and you wouldn't believe me if I was trying to be nice, or polite about it anyway."

Crowing, "I approve of it all. The marriage, love, star fighters, rescues, rum and surviving all this!" Tallie's mouth claps shut and she blinks, not sure that she should have said all that she said. More owl like blinking. "Ektor told me not to say I was thirsty, though I don't know why. But I am. Is there any fruit juice about. I'm glad you approve, 'One Size Fits All'."

Did Sar Yavok remember to wear his bathing suit under his his wedding clothes? Here's hoping! Cover your eyes, kids! Slipping out of his boots and his trousers, the man folds them up and sets them aside on a nearby table. Then he walks over to the table with the wedding gifts and pops the top off of the bottle that Merek left. "Cheers, Black," he offers before he proceeds to down the entire bottle, spilling no small amount of it onto his face and body.

"Very welcome." Rance nods to Tallie. "So who was the guy we rescued from that prison? That was one helluva dogfight. Saw some good kills. Anyone here involved with that? Other than, you know, my own people.." he offers out. Evn while other discussion continues. The cigarello is finally plucked and ashed by his side.

"Ektor, Tallie, this is my boss, Rance Hood. Rance, meet two of the craziest pilots I know." Miri rolls onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. Her tattoo, a blaster on her tricep, is visible! "You should get Lofty's face on your ass," she says to Ektor, nodding decisiely. When Rance asks, she fingerguns at him. "This is the asshole we busted outta jail, yup. Now, what tattoo should /I/ get?"

Though she might be late to the party, because all the most fashionable people are, Kasia has finally made her way down to the beach to join in the celebration. She offers a warm smile and wave upon spotting Sar, and then to Maeve as well, making her way toward the Groom first, unless they're standing together, then it's the both of them.

Ektor cracks into full throated laughter at Tallie's admission. "Not sure if Galactic Standard sounds the same where you come from, Sunshine, but where I come from, 'thirsty' like you yelled is is more like.. Ready to get rekked, yeah?" He sticks his hand up when named. "I am that asshole! WOO." The upraised fist extends its middle finger to Miri as she suggests a butt tattoo. He grins up from the sand at Rance. "Thanks for the lift off Spice Rock, yeah?".

Mouth in a large O of comprehension, Tallie hiccups a laugh at Ektor and sways to stand up. Giving her hand to Rance, "Oh, no, I don't outrank anybody, except for Ektor maybe. Nice to meet you Mir's boss. Rance is it? Thanks for the help getting his ass off of Spice Rock so he can get a tattoo on it." Turning to Ektor, one long tanned leg popping out from under her lace cover up, "Get a Sunshine tattoo why don't you?"

Changing into a bikini top and swim shorts, Maeve returns in time to see Sar dump a fair mount of booze all over himself. A mild eye roll is given, amusement again plain upon her face as she joins Kasia and Sar near the table that is laden with booze and gifts to share. "Nice day for a party."

"Hey, how ya doin' sirs," Rance greets. He taps the brim of his hat with two fingers holding the smoke. "Good to met you." Looking to Ektor, he extends a hand, "Welcome back to your freedom, sir. You had some good people on that op. Good friends and a lot of effort. I didn't provide the lift, but Miri and some people here did a lot of heavy liftin'." He grins and takes a swig from the flask. "and Miri," he looks to her, "How about you get XO tattoo'd somewhere unless you don't want it."

"Kasia Ashkuri!" Sar belts, looking over at the woman with a big smile. "I swear, you'll be late to your own funeral," the man says, moving to wrap the woman in a hug. Unfortunately for her, he's got brandy all over his chest, but...honestly, she's probably used to that, so it's fine. Releasing her from the hug, he moves to stand by Maeve, resting a hand on her back. "Thanks for coming out."

D4-K4 comes to a halt near Sar and his gathering, one arm folding behind its back. It shifts as if to heave a sigh and attempts to wave at the man once again, optic band flashing several times.

Kasia laughs as she finds herself wrapped up in a hug, not even seeming to mind the brandy. To be fair, though, she's used to this from both Sar, and Hex, so really they've just broken her will and now she accepts that it's going to happen. "You're probably not wrong, but I'll look damn good when I get there." She grins, stepping back once she's released. "It is a nice day for a party." She takes a moment to look between the newlyweds. "I am so happy for the both of you. Congratulations."

Ektor shakes Rance's offered hand without getting up off the sand. He does pick up his head to eye Tallie. "YOU need a sun tattoo! Yes-" Then the mention of Miri's promotion is made, and he howls in inebriated laughter. "Ha! Get 'XO' on your butt, cause that ass is gettin put to WORK," he advises Miri. "Plus, X is like for kisses, so it's like telling him 'kiss my ass', yeah? Yeah??"

Somewhere during the party, Ax took his leave. But that still leaves Kadi and all her droids. Certainly, it leaves Kadi, who is wandering around, drink in hand, people watching and being followed by a herd of overprotective droids she's pretending she doesn't notice.

"There are no sirs on this beach," declares the bikini-clad Miri. "Just... assholes and other assholes." If Ektor isn't fast, that middle finger will get a CHOMP from a drunk, bitey Miri. She's just all kinds of adjectives. Then her attention is back to Rance and she rolls her eyes, flopping dramatically. "So this party is also my funeral. Yeah. I'll get that tattoo. Winner, for once in your life." It's unclear who she's addressing. "Tallie, get a cute little sun. It'd be so cute. On your wrist, maybe? So. Cute."

"Booze fueled bad decisions are next on the party agenda, followed by a bonfire and people staggering around at dawn wondering why all the booze is gone and who has crackers," Maeve remarks with a grin as she shares a nod with Kasia. "It's awful nice of you to come out," she adds before turning to Sar. "I'm going to get a piece of cake, I'll be back in a moment," and slips through the crowd.

And just as soon as Maeve is disappearing for cake, Sar is taking this as his opportunity to sprint full-tilt towards the water. SWIMMIN' TIME, Y'ALL. Splishin' and splashin' is the name of the game for Lt. Colonel Sar Yavok from here on out.

"No 'sirs'. Well then." Rance takes the cue and holds his smoke at length. He undoes the shirt and leaves it on the sand. Then the zippers on the cargo pants, leaving him in board shorts and sandals. "Yeah, this feels much more at home. Like I never left. Who fightin who?" he laughs. To Miri, "Up to you. You don't have to take it. You don't -need- a tat for it. Just providing some simple offering." Right? Right. he sips the flask and looks towards the water and the star destroyer. "Has anyone thought about defacing that thing? Like in big letters writing 'Sorry, Not Sorry' on it?"

Ektor is very fast. He's also very drunk, with a now very bitten middle finger. "OW, owowow," he complains, spoiled by a laugh. He snickers to Rance, "Kriff yeah, we did! Got a souvenir, too- wait what happened to my hat?" Blink. "What was I saying? Tattoos, yeah? Sun for Sunshine, XO for the cannibal She-wolf.. You already got a wolf tattoo?" he wonders, rambling.

Kasia turns her head to watch Sar make a mad dash for the water, head shaking with amusement. With all two of the people that she actually knows now gone, she instead turns to start making her way through the party, the people that remain, offering a little smile here and there.

"I'm gonna do it, boss. But I reserve the right to be a whiny baby about it today. And the tattoo is happening," Miri says to Rance. She cackles with delight at Ektor's reaction. "Oooh. I don't have a wolf anywhere yet. Maybe I'll get one of those, too. Maybe you should get some kind of weird fish, Ektor."

Sagging somewhat, D4-K4 looks between the various figures mingling, running about and more or less evading it. It makes an abrupt turn and begins walking back towards the city proper, hands folding behind its back. "Frizzing organics..."

"Ektor are you going to get a tattoo? Miri?" She is as drunk as any of her squadron has ever seen her and wavers a little off balance. "If you get a sun, I'll get a what? What should I get?" She is pulling at the midriff of her cover and pulls it over her head after getting it hung up in her long hair which has come out of its bun. Ektor would be talking to her flat midriff for a moment before she gets it off, "There! So what should I get?"

"A sun for you- apparently right there," Ektor informs Tallie, poking her in the stomach with a finger. Miri's suggestion of, "Weird fish?" is followed by an exclamation of "Vulnok! I'ma get a vulnok tattoo-" he notes Kasia passing near and he peers at the woman. "Do I know you? I feel like I know you. Seafood or something, why am I thinking seafood?"

Kasia's wandering comes to a stop when Ektor speaks to her, brows slowly creeping upward as he mentions seafood. "I, uh... am not sure?" She studies the man for a moment. "You look familiar to me too, though, but I am honestly drawing a blanke as to why." She spends another moment mulling it over, and then simply proffers a hand to him. "If neither of us are sure, I guess that means introductions are necessary. I'm Kasia Ashkuri."

"I second that," Miri says, poking Tallie's midriff in turn. "A much cuter spot for a sun than on your wrist." She wrinkles her nose at Ektor. "What's a vulnok?" she asks canting her head. She looks over at Rance. "Ektor apparently visited that thing. Got a bad hat. I bet he also probably took a dump or something."

Ektor sits up on the sand to accept the offered handshake from, "Kasia Ashkuri? Nah, I definitely never heard that name, before-" several fresh scars are visible on arms and torso beneath his hideous floral shirt. He promptly contradicts himself when he declares, "OH. You own that one place what sells the seafood with drinks! Ektor-Xer, good to know you, yeah?" He grins sharply to Miri, "Whatever you accusing me of, I'm probably innocent. And a vulnok is this big water serpent thing on Tion.. never sleeps! Judt swims and eats forever and if it ever stops? It DIES. ...which I guess is what everything does when it stops eating, but still."

"Yep, leave it to Ektor to leave the FO a little present. Not that they are coming to collect it. You could possibly use the hat..." Tallie listens shaking her head as Ektor immediately retracts his statement. Hand patting her own stomach, she asks Rance, "Don't you think a sun on my shoulder would be better?"

"Oh, is that where I know you?" Kasia laughs as she lets go of Ektors hand. "Yes, my husband and I own the Blue Light. That makes sense, I meet so many people there that it's made it hard for me to keep track of where I've met people. It's good to know you, Ektor-Xer."

"See? Lookit how good my memory is. You and your husband, Kurse," Ektor nods proudly at Tallie as if the quality of his memory were recently in doubt. "That thing ain't Eff-Oh," he rambles, gesturing at the old fallen Star Destroyer, off shore. "That's Imperial. VERY slight difference, yeah?" A chuckle follows.

"I forget you are old enough to know these things Ektor!" Still patting her stomach, she nods to the club owner and starts to wander over to the tattoo artist. She looks back over her shoulder at Ektor, "Get one on your forearm, me shoulder."

"Kurse?" Kasia repeats that with a curious look, glancing over at Tallie for a moment at the tattoo talk, then back to Ektor. "Getting some tattoos, are you?" she asks, hands folding primly against her stomach.

"Hey, I ain't THAT old, yeah?" Ektor snickers after Tallie, looking at Miri to complain, "She getting the sun on her shoulder, not the belly. Some people, yeah?" Another sharp laugh. He regards Kasia, again. "Well, I didn't get into a fight.. so next best thing is getting wrecked and waking up with a tattoo.. S'just science."

"I know someone who feels the same kind of disappointment when he doesn't get into brawls at parties," Kasia remarks with a little laugh. "Well, it was nice to see you again, Ektor-Xer. I should be going so I can get back home before it gets too late there, but you should come visit us at the Blue Light again. When you get a chance." She gives a little wave, and then turns to head back the way she came.