Log:Luci's Baby

Luci's Baby

OOC Date: February 8, 2017
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Sapphira Tavers, Tarion Tavers, Hex, Naelyn, Meep, Sion, and Jehni'va Cihn.

There were parties around Nar Shaddaa the evening following the first of the Five Sabers, and no doubt the racers were all treated very well by their adoring fans. It was a close race, a nail-biter really, and wonderfully exciting. Those who follow these types of events were quite pleased with the outcome. And there was much rejoicing. Most of that rejoicing has fallen by the wayside come the early morning, but some people are still out at the bars or stumbling home. For Sapphira Tavers, she's just starting her day. She didn't participate in the festivities, but took Meep home with her to her parents' place, drunk on sugar as the little guy was, and let him sleep over. Now he's up and is going about his day, and she's up going about hers. One of those things is food. The Blue Light is a new place for Sapphira, not remembering it from when she was last on this damp moon some years ago. But it's open, so she presses in to give it a try. She's wearing slim maroon pants today, tucked into black boots. She wears a patterned blouse atop it, with puffed sleeves for a bit of a fun, dramatic look that was no doubt picked up during her time on Coruscant. Still, she also makes a point to have her utility belt worn at all times, giving her a look of fashion and utilitarianism mixed together. Her hair is piled atop her head in a messy morning bun, with red strands slipping out in every direction and draping around her face. She wears some basic makeup with a bright red lipstick today, and moves into the place easily and without fear. Even after being away for some years, Nar Shaddaa is still home and she still feels comfortable here.

"We meet again, ai'jou." The voice belongs to Hex, art gallery ne'er do well who thought Meep looked more or less like a hunt-able, edible option and who eventually left the anticlimactic basement (which got more exciting later) with Rheisa's toddler. He's walking out of a door marked 'office' behind the bar now, holding a cup of caf, smoking, and regarding Sapphira thoughtfully. "You look like you've been here before."

Somewhat slumped over the Sabaac table is one Tarion Tavers, Five Sabres racer, amateur bounty hunter, and professional asshole. The man is still dressed in his iconic grey armored jacket and pants, the ones he hardly ever has off, and a blue drink half-drunk on the table before him glows with a faint luminance. He's been feted all night, or more accurately for about an hour before he ran off on his own to do bar-hopping independent of the Fishman and his engineer, and now the morning finds him washed up here, with red-rimmed eyes, tousled hair, and a throbbing headache keeping time with the pulsating, radioactive-looking light coming off of his drink. He doesn't even notice Sapphira's arrival, not yet, focused as he is on slowly, slowly picking himself up off the table and frowning furiously at the dull aching in his limbs (except for the cybernetic, bless it).

Naelyn has arrived.

Jehni'va Cihn has arrived.

Sapphira turns her head just slightly so that her bright green eyes may regard the Twi'lik who now speaks to her. And she smiles at him, for indeed now he is something of a familiar face. Even after just that one time; smiling is still polite! "Yes, sir," she responds to his question. "We do. Though this is my first time here, I'm afraid." Seeing that he's just come out of the office, it stands to reason that he's somehow affiliated with the place. "But I've heard wonderful things," she adds. That smile remains strong. "One of them being that your kitchen might be open for breakfast. For another ... well, to be honest Sir, I'm looking for someone and was told that he might still be in here."

Jehni'va Cihn doesn't really drink - but she certainly did last night. The pilot slumps into the Blue Light with the top half of her jumpsuit tied at the waist to reveal the food-stained wifebeater beneath it. Her tangled mess of hair is flyaway and dragged haphazardly back into a braid that hangs (a little off center) between her shoulder blades - the picture of either victory, sleeplessness, and someone who is just a liiiiittle bit gross. Upon entering, the groggy woman spies Tarion first - Hex second, because he's green and noticeable and talking to some woman. "Sup, loser." She greets the bounty hunter as she passes him on her way to the bar. Breakfast. Yes.

"You don't have to call me sir, ai'jou," Hex laughs, smokily. "My name is Hex Ashkuri, and don't get me wrong, 'sir' is an amusing novelty, but 'Hex' will do fine." He reaches over to another table and snags a digital menu thing, setting it in front of Sapphira. "Breakfast options," he explains. Then Jehni'va comes in, and he grins, broadly. "Ayyy there's my racer!" he beams, all proud, and looking that way makes him spot Tarion, too. "And another one! Whip 'em all, ai'jouku!" How uplifting! "Cheat if you have to!" Aaaaand it's back to being Defiance.

Oh, the cheating is coming, Hex, you better believe that. Tarion frowns deeply as Jehn calls him a loser, for half a second, before he dredges up his customary smirk and smears it all over his face. There's a familiar presence in the room, though, and it is distracting him from calling Jehn half a dozen terrible names. "You gotta play by the rules, Hex," the bounty hunter lies blithely, collecting his drink from the sabaac table as he gets to his feet and starts wandering over at the sound of breakfast. "I need bacon," he mutters at no one in particular. Twerk in that, vegetarian scum.

"Mmm...it is only because when I say /thank you sir/....it is filled with filthy connotations...." There is a soft voice, lilting and the thick accent adds a purr to his rrr and sss sounds. There is a slender individual of questionable gender and in short shorts who enters the establishment, sway to his hips as he holds up a small cloth gift bag towards Jehni. "There is my beautiful champion...mwah, mwah." Air kisses. "I am sorry I could not there in person, but I watched on my holoscreen." A look to Tarion. "Here have some money, you did good too." He holds out a credit chit.

"Hex, then," Sapphira says, and indeed her smile seems naturally pleased at the invitation to use the man's name. Look at her making friends! She takes the menu with a nod of gratitude and slides herself into a seat at the bar, just starting to look over the options when there's more noise in the place. Naturally she lifts her head and twists to look around. Sapphira is not at all immune to the excitement of the races, and seeing the first place finishers in the /illustrious/ Five Sabers is something of a delight. So she grins and watches. And then there's the second place winner, shuffling over and declaring that it's bacon time. Sapphira's smile shifts a bit, becoming more cautious, almost nervous. "Good morning," she says to the man. "I'd heard you were in here." Her green eyes flit over Tarion, taking in his current state. Hungover and likely smelly. Just lovely, that.

Jehn flashes a shy, sleepy grin in Hex's direction, one hand raising to rub at the back of her neck. "'Ey, Hex." She greets, dipping her head with a polite nod of greeting to the stranger he's chatting with before she settles against the bar and cranes a long arm across another patron to snatch a menu. "This shit." She points for the sake of the tender. "But with those bean things. You know the drill." It's a Defiance haunt, she can have a usual. It's the lilting tones of her favorite glitterbaby that catches her attention next, though, and Jehn turns to regard Naelyn with another wide, sheepish grin. "Nae!" She rifles through the gift bag with scattered responses of 'bitchin'!' and 'aw, hun!' before slapping a pair of /rockin'/ pilot's goggles onto her forehead. "/Thanks!/" Grin, grin, beam, beam - look at how fancy and expensive she looks! With her food stained shirt, half a jumpsuit, and smelling of space pot with boozish undertones. So illustrious, a true role model for children everywhere. Least dem goggles is fly AF. Sapphira earns a confused look, but strange women approaching Tarion with looks of familiarity and disdain is nothing new.

"It's Nar Shaddaa, Tavers! The only laws are the laws of physics!" Hex insists. He seems to be in a good mood, cheered by the victory of DBAGs over nameless NPCs, and Sar, and whoever else. "Naelyn!" he greets as he strides over that direction, setting his caf mug down on an unused table. "The kids are killin' it!" Victory dance. Not a good victory dance. Hex dancing is never good dancing. It's happily a short-lived dance, and then he taps ash off his cigarette. "So anyway in other news, that girl's last name is also Tavers." He points out Sapphira, and then raises both brows at Naelyn in a way that communicates both 'DRAMAAAAAA' and a belief that he's close enough to the drama to enjoy it, far enough not to get caught. Or so he thinks.

"Oh," Tarion murmurs as the bright green eyes turn to meet his red-rimmed blue pair, blinking with a bit of owlish confusion. His brow furrows as the synapses in his brain sputter and start, not pleased with this unexpected event in their current alcohol-addled state. "...I thought that was my imagination yesterday," he finally announces in a quiet voice, looking her over. The gun getting pulled on him, her being there, people's heads exploding on a big screen, it was all a little surreal. A small smile, genuine, that one, crosses his face as Naelyn arrives and sticks a credit chit in his hand. "You know the way to my heart," he mutters to the Sephi-hybrid, immediately pocketing the cash. Cash monaaaay. Then his attention is brought back to the girl with the Tavers tattoo by Hex's outburst, and he just.... "When did you get into town?"

Sion has arrived.

Nice change: It's not raining in this district. It's not often that Sion darkens the doorway of the Blue Light when the weather is good, but it would seem that today is one of those rare days. She pauses in the doorway to survey the room, slipping off her riding gloves and sliding them into a pocket as she does.

Who's a Tavers? Oh, right, Sapphira is. And she blushes a touch when Hex announces that, a slight pinkish welling up under her pale and freckled cheeks and traveling along the length of her high cheekbones. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it's the sight of Hex's dancing that brings about that blush. Perhaps she's just embarrassed for him. But then Tarion is speaking and Sapphira looks back to him. She blinks twice. "A week, no sorry. A week and a half ago I got in," she explains. "After all the graduation stuff." Yup, that's all it is. Stuff. "I didn't expect to run into you, certainly not so fast." And then she can't help but grin, her tone taking on a bit of disbelief and appreciation. "Certainly not at the Five Sabers." Because 4-5 years ago, Tarion Tavers was likely a far cry from having his own ship and running, and running well, in an illustrious race like that. "You and your crew did an excellent job. Oh, here, did you want the menu?" She sets it down on the bar and slides it in Tarion's direction.

If they keep 'killing it' will that make the Twi'lek stop dancing or only make it worse? Jehn is just being awarded with a caf and vaguely beany dish when Hex starts... Well. She resists the urge to slap his grotesquely gyrating gluteus, barely, and instead sprays a hot hunk of caf at the mention of another Tavers. "O-" She struggles to catch her breath before stumbling out a very confused and incredibly concerned: "there are /more/ of you?" No offense, Sapphira. The pilot is seated at the bar, food forgotten as she spins in her seat to stare between Tarion, Sapphira, Hex, Naelyn, and - oh hey, Sions here too. She gets a distracted finger wiggle of greeting. There's another pause. How old is this girl? Did Tavers /reproduce/?! Shudder. No, no - she looks a little too old for that horrifying possibility.

Naelyn just stares at Hex as he starts dancing and he just shakes his head slowly, tugging a credit coin out of his lack of cleavage and flicking it at Hex, but he does throw it a bit too hard. Then back to Tarion and Sapphira. "Well now, Tarion baby, care to introduce us to your gorgeous little companion..?" Because he is not shy. "Is she related to you because while you are handsome....sweet goddess...." He bites his bottom lip and lowers his lashes, and inhales sharply making an inappropriate little moany sound. Because family is for creating awkward situations.

Hex makes a grab for Naelyn's bad throw of the credit coin, but the throw is worse than his catch and it rolls away under a table where he eyes it, as though not sure he wants to go crawling in there after it. "Kassurra, Sion, did you enjoy the races?" he greets the newest arrival, and then turns his grin and inquiry back to Sapphira. "Are you a sister, a cousin, or an ex wife?" Then he tugs a bit at his pants, musing, "Tcha, I forgot my belt today, annoying."

Sion smiles and waves to Jehni'va, a casual two-fingered salute. Of course, no one can miss Hex trying to dance... much as they might like to. "Hey, Hex. Could you cut that out? I'm about to be eating here," she says casually, giving him a playful hipbump once one of his is close enough as she steps past, heading for the bar. "Nae. Tarion," she says, coming close enough to see the folks at the bar clearly. "Jehni... wow, you look sick. It's not the food, is it?" Then she notices the red-haired girl next to Tarion. "Oh, you're new. Heyo," she adds, offering a smile.

It takes a lot of willpower to keep Tarion from diving under the table for that credit chit. A lot. You guys don't even know. But he keeps it together admirably, tearing his eyes away from the lonely chit and back to Sapphira and the horde of people now making inquiries as to their relation. "Oh, you graduated," he murmurs awkwardly, scratching at the nape of his neck with his cybernetic hand. It's probably odd to see him put off his game like this. "Uh, good job. And thanks," the hunter adds quietly, grabbing up the menu and using it as a barrier to distance himself from the rest of the room by informing the bartender of his need for bacon. "I need bacon. I don't care what from. Just. Bacon. Fried, with whatever fried tuber you can give me." "Sir, there are a number of options detailed on the-" "Yeah, I don't care, okay, just- bacon and fried whatever, alright."

"...thank you," Sapphira says to Tarion when he congratulates her on her graduation. But she's mostly distracted at the sudden and INTENSE interest in her presence and her affiliation to the man who has bravely dived behind a placard of protection, leaving Sapphira to the wolves he calls friends. "Um," she says, eyes flitting from Jehni'va's spit-take to Naelyn's praise (which makes her blush all over again) to Hex's badgering and to Sion ... well just her being there, since she hasn't joined the game yet. "Heyo," she responds, a bit unsure as to this particular greeting. But she's easy, she rolls with it! "So," she says unsurely, green eyes flitting back and forth. "You all seem to know Tare very well. It's nice to see he has so many friends with such a keen interest in him." Smile. Just keep smiling. She does glance back to Tarion, to see if he is actually going to introduce her, or leave her to the friend-wolves. Dear oh dear.

'Friend' is a very optimistic word, Sapphira. "Just a, uh, a night of trying to keep up with people who drink far more than I do." Jehn replies to Sion's inquiry, burying her fork into the beanthings and trying to take another sip of caf. This one doesn't require a splash zone. "And, uh -" She points between Tarion and Sapphira. "Yeah, he's shot me twice." She raises an eyebrow, the expression a little smushed beneath the rockin' goggles Naelyn bestowed upon her. "So how are you two, uh...?"

Tarion, oblivious to social cues, taps his finger impatiently on the bartop as he waits for his bacon, glancing over at Sapphira where she appears to be besieged by his various coworkers and acquaintances. It's a bit of a stretch to call them 'friends', isn't it? "Oh," he suddenly realizes aloud, remembering the proper etiquette in these situations from his holovid studies, taking another sip of his glowing, pulsating blue drink before he nods at Sapphira. "This is my wife, Sapphira Tavers."

<Combat> Naelyn's attack hits Tarion Tavers at a 100 difficulty! (71)

GAME: Tarion Tavers gives Tarion Tavers 16 stun points. He looks dazed.

Hex's lekku coil around his shoulders in an attitude of deep amusement. He doesn't seem that surprised, but he's had longer to process Sapphira's last name than everyone else has, owing to having run into her earlier. "Oh, many happy congratulations to you both, ai'jouku," he replies, as though this is so normal. "Vahs ka Ryma'at! I had no idea he was married, but it's so nice that you've been able to join him now. He's a treasure, our Tarion Tavers."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear it, Jehni. I've got something back at the apartment for the aftereffects of that. Now I wish I'd brought it, but I can probably mix it up here." Sion signals the bartender, giving a few quick instructions. Hopefully he's not also the cook, or this could be a long-delayed cure. She glances up at Hex and Naelyn. "Guys? Seriously? You're circling like vultures. Could you give the poor girl some space? This moon's a lot to take as it is," she says, with a glance at Sapphira. She's been in that particular spot herself. Of course, there's the question of the relationship between Tarion and the new girl. Some are obviously more believable than others. The Socorran can't hold back a sputter that might be a hastily-stifled laugh. The fact that she had to use her hand to do the stifling might suggest the effort it took, and those deep blue eyes fairly dance with laughter as she looks between Tarion and Sapphira.

The entire world slows down around him dancer turns slowly to just stare at Tarion with the expressionless expression that slowly shifts into narrowed eyes as he just stares for a few moments. To Sapphira. "Very nice to mee you, I consider it a personal failure to have not taken better care of your mate." Then to Tarion. "You...had a wife...and you decided to enter into a life of crime and stupidity and lose limbs!" Naelyn just stares. "Do you KNOW HOW HARD IT WILL BE to find her g spot and bring her to heights of pleasure as the goddess you worship with your dumbsass tendancy to get badly injured. You selfish asshole of a bitch! What if the next hutt you piss off chops off your tiny testicles!" He does not even seem to telegraph it, but there is a swat at the back of Tarion's head before he continues swearing in Ryl. And he really does not raise his voice, it gets more hiss like and his accent thickens but he is somewhat teary eyed. "I should take that bacon and shove it down my throat without chewing just so cannot eat it you..." More Ryl.

Cue a second spray of caf. Sorry, tenderdude. "Oh you poor woman." Jehn coughs, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. There are a lot of questions here, mostly: why? And how? And why? And.... Oh, Naelyn. While the dancer chews out Tarion, Sion gives complicated orders, Sapphira is caught in the middle, and Hex is being so super chill (and not dancing anymore, thank space gods) the pilot just blinks. "So, welcome to Nar." She finally offers to Sapphira.

The whole room goes from 'He shot me twice' to 'Mawwiage' very, very quickly. And there's a lot of different responses. Sapphira's bright green eyes move from one to the other, trying to take each of them in and respond to them in turn. But Naelyn. Just ... Naelyn. Sapphira listens, her naturally slender eyes widening as phrases like 'g-spot' and 'missing limb' get thrown around. And then Tarion gets cuffed. "Oh!" the redhead flinches in sympathy for her .... ugh .... husband. "Really it's not-" she tries to cut in, but with so many people talking and sexphrases doing sexflips in her head, Sapphira gives up on that. She turns to the tender with a small sigh. "Can I have one of your cheapest and strongest drinks, please?" Tarion's circus. Tarion's monkeys.

Tarion just blinks as Naelyn unleashes a tirade of epic sexual proportions on him, and he's in the middle of opening his mouth to say "Next time you think we had an orgy I'll-" but then he gets cuffed on the back of the head, spilling his pulsating blue drink over the front of his jacket. The man's face darkens as he glances down at the cerulean droplets falling to the floor, like a little trail of nuclear waste, but then he's got his mask back on, that ever-present lop-sided smirk. "First of all, that man over there has less limbs than I do, but I didn't hear about you raising objections at his ceremony." An artificial finger points at Hex as his natural hand puts the glass down on the bartop. "Second, do not take my bacon." Really regretting not diving under that table now. And speaking of circuses, Tarion does work at one, with Naelyn, actually. "Third, I haven't seen or heard from her in /three years./" Not the right number, but hey.

Hex raises his brows and draws on his cigarette, wordless, basking in gratitude for the fact that he also has a wife, also entered into a life of crime and stupidity and lost limbs, but it's Tarion taking the fall for that and not him. He's not gonna volunteer it. He's just gonna let Tarion get abused and then maybe step in if everyone starts trying to kill each other on account of the fact that it might mess up the bar. One brow does raise at Sapphira. "I'm not one to talk, but you make an odd pair, girl."

Even Sion has a little sympathy for Tarion after Naelyn's idea of a matrimonial critique, even if she has more for Sapphira. "That's... a long separation. You have my sympathies," she says quietly. "That you've stayed married despite this... it says a lot about you." That might be respect in her tone. Which is something of a change from trying not to laugh at the very idea of someone marrying Tarion, especially after the way he's flirted with the former laugher. Fortunately, the bartender arrives with the three full glasses and one large empty one that she requested. Sion sighs in relief and quickly mixes the three small drinks into one large one, swirling it expertly. "Here, Jehni. This should help. Just don't drink it too fast."

"Okay, so.... Damn, I -" Jehn finishes her meal and growls between the exchange. "I want to watch this." She pouts as she takes the drink from Sion and, despite being told not to drink it too fast, shots the damn thing down in a few, desperate, gasping gulps. "Gauhguhghh okay. Wow." She shakes (like an actual dog) and jerks the sleeves of her jumpsuit tighter at her waist. "Okay. Alright. Back to work." A small taste of victory doesn't change the fact that she's going to be working off a life debt by walking lothcats for the next fifty years. Jehn slips out.

"You leave my brother's green dumbass out of this, he cannot help he was born special. Youuuu however. You are..." Naelyn slap some credits on the bar and points to Sapphira. "Give her the most expensive, delicious, and strong drink you can give this beautiful woman." Back to Tarion. "And get him a new one too, goddess f**kit." A pause before he continues. "You are...not green." He sniffs delicately. "And I ride his ass just as hard about not screwing things up...and he eloped. So he avoided my bitchassing him out." He throws up his hands. "Now, I have to go purchase this woman some new clothing, plan a reception, get you better soap, purchase new condoms to give you, rent out a nice hotel for you and so much other shit when I could go home, fantasizing about my future Togruta boyfriend and watching Hours of our Existances, the mother just found out she is dating her brother's half-clone and Treville is having Luci's baby!" He reaches into his knapsack to pull out his datapad. "Luci's Baby!" He has work to do.

There's already a shot of something cheap and nondescript on the bar when the sound of Naelyn's credits causes Sapphira to jump slightly in her skin. The bartender is very quick to pluck the shot from Sapphira's fingers and set about making two of something lavish. It all happens so fast! She does manage to blink at Hex. "Opposites attract?" she offers with a weak, wtf-is-going-on smile. But then her attention turns back to Naelyn and her body turns to follow her eyes so she's facing and staring at him properly. "Clothes? Condoms?" She blushes at the very word, and looks to Tarion. She opens her mouth to speak, but before any words can escape there's a very high-end drink in her hands, and another on the bar for Tarion. "I-" the redhead starts, looking down at the drink, back to Naelyn, back to Tarion, and back to Naelyn again. She's actually speechless.

Tarion spends a long moment deciding whether or not to salvage his pride and correct Naelyn or to just rake in the goodies. Eventually, his desire for free things wins out over his narcissism and he just nods at the long list of things the little dancer is intent on buying for him. "Did he do this for you too?" he asks Hex, glancing over at the Twi'lek as Jehni abruptly sucks down Sion's miracle-cure and runs off, against the biker-doctor's orders. "She never listens," he sniffs at Sion, meaning Jehni'va. Curious, red-rimmed eyes turn towards Sapphira, more than a little curious how she's processing all this, part of him taking a sort of twisted delight at her discomfort if his small, self-satisfied smirk is any indication.

"Naelyn does his best to mitigate the damage I do to my own marriage, ka," Hex confirms with a nod for Tarion's question, and then hand-waggles. "With varying degrees of success; my inherent trashiness and inclination toward disaster are a force to be reckoned with. But his powers are mighty. And Kasia is a very patient woman. Opposites do attract," he allows for Sapphira's comment, and eyes the woman speculatively. "Your husband is a catalyst," he eventually remarks to her, "No surprise to you, I'm sure. By both trade and avocation he has gathered a certain amount of notoriety to himself, and so long as your last name is Tavers... you can expect this reaction. We will give him shit for it." Hex grins. "We will give you shit for it."

Sion winces in sympathy, seeing Jehni ignore her cautioning and dash for the door right after. "Um, bye!" she calls after the woman. "I'd go straight home, seriously!" Hopefully she'll listen to that, at least. The Socorran glances at Hex, then Naelyn. And just says nothing. Really, what can you say after all that? Other than what she says. "Sad, but true. Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, Mrs. Tavers." Her attention turns instead to Tarion. She glances at the door. "I wish you were wrong, and I hope she doesn't have a lot of business outside or away from public facilities today. What that stuff does to your stomach if you just slam it back like that... Ulck!" She grimaces. "The cure can be worse than what it works against."

Meep has arrived.

Sapphira has heard 'welcome to Nar' a few times today, so she gently and weakly corrects; "Actually I'm from here." She looks back to Tarion, and sees him actually accepting all of these strange offers. "Tare!" Sapphira gently scolds. He can't possibly be entertaining this. It sounds like Naelyn, in his own good intentions, is trying to plan them a wedding! "Really that's all very generous but..." But what? Oh, but which but to choose from? Sapphira looks to Tarion again, but can see his smirk and knows that she's on her own, here. She bites hard on her lower lip. "But we're already married." So no need for all of this, right?! The redhead turns then to Hex who has been speaking to her. She shakes her head in disbelief. "So I'm coming to understand," she says gently. "So wait," she says to Hex, leaning toward him. "What's this someone said about missing limbs?" She's positively bewildered. At last, she just looks at the drink in her hand and takes a deep sip. When she pulls the glass from her mouth, she swears softly, eyeing the glass suspiciously. "Damn this is good. I thought most alcohols stripped the skin from your throat." An experienced drinker she's not.

Meep makes his entrance. Well, not much of an entrance, the little Teek just sort of wanders in. He's so short that most don't notice him as he makes his way towards the bar. He's sort of rubbing his tummy, grumbling a little as he peers up at the bar counter, frowning at all that bar stools that are just too tall for him! Giving that envious stare to all the patrons happily eating their snacks and meals.

"Ask him about the missing limbs," Hex grins at Sapphira. "It's a good story." One he doesn't have time to get into, it seems, as he checks a chrono on his wrist and twitches his lekku, "Ahh, szu'tak, I'm late to pick up the baby again. Be good, everybody." He salutes, and then takes off!

Hex has left.

"We're not really a 'couple' these days, if you hadn't gathered," Tarion points out, since apparently Sapphira is too shellshocked to put a stop to Nae's machinations. "On paper, we're married, but I think we were both somewhat surprised to find each other again, especially with me still alive," he adds, a little narrowing going on around his eyes, especially when Meep arrives. Meep, the obnoxious little ball of fuzz with the armed 'friend', and his eyes narrow further. "The hell is my bacon." It's a bad-tempered snap toward the beleaguered bartender.

Does Sapphira blush deeper, when Tarion says they're not a couple? Is that a look of guilt that flashes across her face? Hard to tell, because said face is soon blocked by the deep drink of the fine drink that Naelyn bought for her. Such a nice man, that Naelyn. When she draws the cup away from her lips, her eyes settle on a new shape in the room. "Meep!" she says happily. Where the teek's presence seems to draw a glare from Tarion, they draw a look of delight from Sapphira. "Come for some breakfast, finally?" Yes look, a new topic! HOW NICE A NEW TOPIC!

"That depends on the alcohol," Sion puts in. "Some's actually quite pleasant, aside from a slight tingle that feels oddly out of place. That's an Alderaanian Creme Liqueur, and it's one of the nicest. Expensive, too. I think Nae's trying to take the sting off." She blushes a little. "As for the greeting... in that case, welcome to your husband's social circle on Nar Shaddaa. That drink can only help." She frowns thoughtfully at Tarion, then nods. And that's when she spots Meep. "Heyo again, small one!" And /that's/ when she spots the clock. "Twin stars... I'll be late if I don't move! Sorry to chat, mix, and run, but stuff to do. So nice to meet you, Mrs. Tavers. Good to see all of you again, too." She sets several credit chits on the counter. "Whatever Meep wants is on me, bartender. See to it, okay?" And with that, she hurries for the door.

Sion has left.

Meep gives a slow nod up to Sapphira, ignoring Tarion it seems. "Banana?" he inquires, wringing his little hands. He peers up at the pair from the foot of the stool, licking his lips. After a moment, he finds an empty stool, clambering up it like a ladder and taking a seat, barely able to peer over the counter of the bar as he awaits his fruit.

And another one hurries out, leaving Tarion essentially alone with his estranged wife and the furball everyone is meeping at. "The hell do you all keep 'meep'ing for," he mutters sourly, finally plucking his own drink off the bar as the bacon gets slid across to him on a small plate. The artificial limb story hasn't been pressed on yet, and he's happy to keep it that way, using his lifelike cybernetic fingers to pinch up a piece of bacon and crunch it between his teeth.

"Eating healthy this morning, I see?" Sapphira asks Meep good-naturedly, her smiling glance being cast over to Tarion with a slight wrinkle of her nose. "That's just him talking," she says gently. And then there's a pause. That awkward moment when, yes, you are generally left fairly alone with your estranged spouse. And that's just, well, awkward. So after a pause, Sapphira speaks up again. "You have some very passionate friends," she says, reaching to push some of that loose red hair back behind her ear. In a few gestures, she manages to turn to face the bar again, setting her breakfast-alcohol there. "They seem to be keenly interested in your life." Is that good? It's hard to say if any of this is good. But Sapphira looks sufficiently apologetic. "I hope I didn't cause you too much grief, showing up here like this."

Meep happily receives his banana from the staff, who are just gushing over the little furball. He bites off the top of the banana with his little buckteeth, peeling down a few inches of peel before nomming on the sticky fruit. "MMmmm, Banana!" he declares, bits of banana sticking to the corners of his mouth. He plops down atop his stool, content to cradle the large banana and munch happily, hardly paying any mind to the conversating couple next to him.

Tarion, for his part, seems to be handling the awkward with the same sort of snarky cynicism he handles everything with. "They're very interested," he agrees, nodding at his wife (how weird is that), glancing her direction and setting his bacon strip back down on the plate. "Mostly because they don't trust me and probably think I married you at gunpoint." There's a little downward quirk in his smirk, a niggling suggestion that he might not be happy about that, but he's trying to cover it up. "You're fine. I'm sure your parents missed you." The hunter takes another sip of his drink, turning his eyes away toward the bar and the food in front of him.

That makes her chuckle. "It was quite the opposite," she says, though Tarion likely needs no reminding about how they eloped against her parents' ardent and feverish wishes. Sapphira sips her drink again, then sets it down on the bar and drags her finger along the rim of the glass idly.

She glances over at Meep, almost to check on him, then turns back to Tarion. But never fear, Meep, you're not forgotten! She reaches up to scritch the creature's back and shoulders lightly even as the conversation continues. "They are," she tells him. "They're getting old, Mom can't work anymore and the freight runs are really taking a toll on Dad. So I came back to try and help shore things up for them." Such a good daughter! "And your parents? How are they? And ... how are you?"

Meep takes another bite and chews on the stick banana. Then come the scritches! And she gets his favorite spot, right behind the ears. He tilts his head slightly, eyes half-lidded, churring in delight. One foot twitches and then begins reflexively bumping against his seat in response to scritches! Oh so wonderful.

"They're fine," Tarion replies blithely, with a broad grin and a reassuring glance, pulling himself onto a stool to have a seat and crunch another bite of bacon in his mouth. "And me? Never better, really." Crunch crunch crunch. Nice crispy bacon. After a moment he realizes that he's supposed to say something about her family, and he adds on "I hope things improve for them, or at least you'll be able to help them out." A curious eye trails over toward the thumping critter. "...did you get a new pet?"

Sapphira turns to look back at Meep and his tumping. He seems to like that, so she'll continue doing it. Her face then turns back to Tarion. "Pet? No. I ... think that he and I work together," she admits. "I got a job offer yesterday, while we were at the gallery. It was all very strange, especially considering I was just looking to get out of the rain. But who am I to turn down good work? And it sounds exciting anyway." Sapphira watches him for a beat or two, and then a fond, albiet small smile flicks across her features. "You know, I always could read you like a fully powered datapad," she says gently, to indicate she knows something in his words isn't quite what it seems. "You seem to be doing very well for yourself, at any rate. A ship, flying in the Five Sabers, and you seem to have quite a community, of sorts, here."

Meep does the little squinty-eyed face, pressing his head against Sapphira's wonder-fingers. He hugs his banana close, and so hard that it begins oozing out of the top. The squished bit of fruit gets bitten off and chewed happily, finishing off the banana. Leaving the peel on his seat, he lies back, sprawling on the chair on his back to enjoy scritches.

"You sure it's not a pet?" Tarion asks, raising an eyebrow as Meep's antics continue, shoving another bit of bacon into his bite. "Things are starting to come together, a little bit. I got a ship, you apparently saw it, and you met my, uh. Coworkers?" That might be the best term for them? "Other than that, not much to talk about." Nothing to see here, all is boring and normal.

"He's sentient," Sapphira says unequivocally. "And his name is Meep. So I think that would make it slavery, wouldn't it?" She truly doesn't know, though it does seem that way to her. So she just continues to scritch and scratch, pausing to look over at Meep. He's so cute and sweet! Even in this difficult moment, he makes her smile.

Tarion's words make her turn back to look at him, and it's a skeptical look. She's suspicious of the tales you're spinning, Tavers, or lack thereof. "You don't have to tell me anything, you know. You don't have to lie to me, but you don't have to tell me anything either. You don't owe me any explanations; if anything it's the other way 'round." She pauses, using her free hand to sip her drink. "This is just so good," she says, for apparently the first time finding some real joy in alcohol. "Anyway, for those things that are going well I'm very happy for you. I am, truly."

Meep is just a purring bundle of fur, reduced to lazily lying across his seat and enjoying scritches. His nose twitches a little, ears perking up slightly. He detects something. Sitting up, he ignores scritches for a little as he clambers up onto the bar counter. His head tilts, sniffing the air, gingerly padding down the bar to Tarion's spot, leaning down, sniffing.... he smells bacon....

"I'm not lying," Tarion stubbornly lies, but then a sentient monkey-faced creature that smells of popcorn and bananas starts crawling down the bar toward his food. The man's red-rimmed eyes narrow suspiciously as Meep approaches, and then he turns to Sapphira. "...I hate to trouble you for this, but would you kindly remove your miniature wookiee from the countertop?"

Sapphira wrinkles her mouth to one side and nods gently to Tarion. He's lying. She knows he's lying. He knows she knows he's lying. But he lies. And she won't push him on it. Rather, the distraction that is Meep becomes the center focus. "He's not mine, Tare. I told you. Maybe you should ask him to get down." And if he doesn't, Sapphira will get him. But it doesn't hurt to try politeness first, right?

Meep eases himself down to take a seat on the counter, dangling his feet over the edge. He stares at Tarion, blinking owlishly. He rummages around in a pocket for a moment, producing a metal bolt, holding it out to Tarion as a sort of offering, "Chip chip?" he inquires in his chittering little language.

With a tired, glum smile at the little aspiring capitalist, Tarion reaches into his pocket and pulls out a credit chit. "/Chit/ chit," he informs his pupil, showing him what it looks like. "This little thing makes the whole galaxy turn." Educational moment over, he puts it back into his pocket. "If you have any of those, then we'll trade." Until then, another strip of bacon gets popped into his mouth, and he glances back over at Sapphira. "Staying with your parents, then?"

The whole exchange is quite entertaining, and Sapphira is content to watch. She even smiles at the little discussion between the two creatures, one Meep and the other Tarion. It's a relaxing moment. She'll nod to Tarion then as an answer to his question. "Mmmmhmm," she affirms. "Easier for everyone that way. I can help them out and they can make sure I don't run off and do something foolish. Apparently there's still a lingering feeling of 'wild child' associated with my name." That, at least, makes her smirk a touch, amused, and cast Tarion a quick glance. No doubt the impression of Sapphira as 'wild' stems from that one time she ran off and married a ner-do-weller at the ripe age of 17.

Meep replaces the bolt in his pocket. He doesn't seem satisfied however, slinking down onto his belly, trying to be all stealthy as he leans over the edge of the counter. One little arm reaches out, trying to claw one of those pieces of bacon, streeeeetching as far as he can, "Nnnnghhhh..." he grunts, trying not to fall off the counter at the same time as he strains, eyes focused entirely on that bit of bacon.

"No idea where they got that impression," Tarion remarks with a broad, bittersweet smile, even as he spins the plate of bacon back out of Meep's reach with a single finger. "My parents are where you left them," the hunter remarks, with a slight shrug as he claims one of the last pieces of the crispy meat. "Oh. I do need you to do something for me. Don't tell them where I am."

"Gotta be faster, Meep," Sapphira consoles the creature, reaching down to scritch him behind the ears again in consolation. Poor Meep. All he ever wants is all the food. She glances up at Tarion, thoughtful as she notes that bittersweet smile. But then she goes back to her drink, tossing back the rest of it with a sigh. "I won't," she assures him. She knows about that particular lie too. "I'm not here to cause trouble for you or anything, Tare. I promise."

Meep lets his ears droop as that last piece of bacon disappears. He stands, skulking back to Sapphira's bit of the counter. Taking a seat, he just grumbles, picking up a toothpick from one of the little trays and using it to scritch the fur on his legs, something to do at least, their other conversation totally unheard and not understood.

Don't take it personal, Meep, Tarion is just a bit of an asshole. Majorly an asshole. It depends who you talk to and how pretty you are, really. "Thanks." The bounty hunter does slightly resemble death warmed over, and it's unlikely he got any sleep last night. Too much celebration, too much convincing himself the vision in the art gallery basement was his imagination. "...how long has it been, anyway?" Bleary blue eyes turn her way.

Sapphira can't resist a sad Meep. She smiles to him, leaning over to give him a pet. "Go ahead and bring him some bacon," she tells the bartender, and then she tosses a wink Meep's way. Don't you worry little friend! There's a bleeding heart woman here to cater to you every time you look sad. And then, the redhead turns back to Tarion. She draws some of that loose hair back behind her ear, out of the way of her face. "Four and a half years," she tells him softly. "I left right before school started and I stayed on Corescant the entire time, so it'd be about that long." She looks up at him with a gentle, apologetic smile.

Meep perks up slightly. He waits patiently until a fresh platter of bacon arrives. "Ooooooh! Chip chip!" he chirps, scooping up a piece of bacon in each hand. He takes alternating bites from each piece, chewing happily, the juices oozing down his chin and matting his fur as he gobbles down this delicious pork product.

Tarion sighs at that, running his fingers back through his short hair, using his natural hand. Not that she knows there's a distinction between the two, yet. The fake one looks just as real as the other, and works the same. It's a medical marvel, really, but he got lucky with the way his- well, I guess not /lucky/, but it could have been blown off in worse ways. The man is silent for a moment, his own delicious pork product finished, staring into the depths of the luminous blue liquid before him, and then the smirk is back. That same damn lop-sided smirk. "Well, it sounds like you enjoyed yourself, I hope you don't find Nar too stifling now that you're used to the big city," he remarks, with a passive-aggressive edge creeping into his cheery tone. "Welcome home, and all that." Sip.

"Thank you," she says, apparently opting to take his welcome home at face value. Life can be easier that way. "Corescant was nice," she admits. "There was always a lot to do. But Nar's home for me, always was. Besides," she adds a little smile, perhaps a touch of levity. "I'm not fancy enough to be one of those core-girls. Or rich enough." Life in the center of the universe is expensive. "But it sounds like I'll be travelling with this new gig I've got," she continues. "With the Explorer's Guild."

A light snort puffs out of Tarion at that. "You're with the Explorer's Guild now? You come back here, and you don't even bother to think about trying to find me, asking for my help finding work?" He's still smirking, but there's a bitter, sour slant to it now. "I guess that makes sense, you probably thought I'd turned up dead somewhere by now, not like you cared to ask my opinion the last time you decided to go out on your own." He rolls his eyes, slipping digitally machinated fingers around his glass and bringing it up to his lips for another sip, bigger than the last ones. "Don't pretend to care about me," he warns her, with a glance aside at the red-headed woman. "You don't get to do that."

And we've shifted from passive aggressive to just aggressive. Which, admittedly, was likely to happen eventually. Needed to happen. Still, Sapphira seems a touch taken aback by it, but almost immediately she looks guilty. Because she is guilty. She pauses for a few moments, listening to all he says, and thinking through her response. She bites on her lower lip. "I didn't want to find you," she admits. "The way things ended between us, and the way I behaved at the end ... I didn't feel like I had the right to come back and bother you. I was embaressed by the way I skipped off. So I didn't plan to find you at all, until I ran into you in that gallery yesterday. After we'd seen each other it just seemed silly not to come see you." She looks up at him, still looking sad and sorry like a dog who just took a leak on the carpet. Embaressed. "If you'd rather I'd not have come to see you, then I can go."

Tarion does have soft spots; it's been seen and witnessed, and generally they're occupied by pretty girls, which Sapphira has going for her. Unfortunately, today seems to find her out in the general populace section of his treatment. Fortunately, he's biting his tongue. "...you don't have to go," he decides after a moment frowning into his drink. "But you don't get to walk back in like nothing happened, either."

No doubt his pretty-girl-meter is still skewed, with some of the company he's recently kept. Sapphira, for her part, just nods gently. "I have no intention of that," she assures him. She motions to the bartender then, ordering another drink. This time she gets the cheap shot she'd been ordering earlier, since the excited young man who paid earlier is not here now. She throws back the shot and a coughing fit ensues. Once it's under control though? She goes quiet, allowing him to lead the conversation further if he'd like to. It's his first chance to get his first thoughts out, so she won't interrupt that.

"What /do/ you want?" Tarion asks, leaning over the bar to nurse his drink, glancing over at her with his bloodshot eyes. This is probably not how expected his 'night' to end, but here she is, and there he is, and if the past is any indication, he may not get another chance to ask.

The question seems to rather surprise Sapphira--whatever she was expecting, this wasn't it. She lifts her head to look at him again, to stare at him thoughtfully. "Nothing," she assures him, as if trying to put him at ease. "I don't expect anything from you, Tarion, I promise. I'm just like everybody else. Find work that makes me happy, be good at it, don't piss anybody off." Which she's probably failing at here. Then she thinks some more. "I know I went about things the wrong way, with you," she explains, more gently. "If I want anything at all, then I'd like to make it up to you in some way. Though at this particular time? I don't really know how to even begin going about that."

"Apparently you expect to keep using my name," Tarion points out, with a little browraise at her. "I know we never did anything official calling it quits but uh. I don't know if it was the second year or the fourth, but I started to think you were never coming back."

Sapphira takes a breath, exhaling slowly. "The scholarship offer was in the name Tavers," she explains. "So were all my school records, my attendance rolls, and everything else. Since I didn't come back to finalize everything, I couldn't really change it." She pauses, glancing away with a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. "And it's how I became known in my field. But I'm back, now." She seems slightly hesitant as she speaks. "So we can go and finalize the divorce and do my name change whenever you'd like. I suppose I got used to it after these years. And..." she seems like she might say something else, but she chooses not to. "You're right. It's your name, not mine."

For once, Tarion senses something. He senses... emotion. It's odd, for him to be able to do that in a way that doesn't seem explicitly manipulative, but it's /happening,/ and it makes him release what might be a sad sigh. "You don't have to worry about that right now. Take some time, get settled in, see your parents. Come find me when I'm not hungover or staring down the barrel of a blaster." He pushes himself back from the bar, slipping down off the stool, leaving him comm info behind as he heads out to crash on his workbench back in the hangar.

Sapphira is left, also seeming rather sad, with the man's comm info and a snoozing teek on the stool beside her. She just looks over the contact information, frowning. Sad, forlorn. You know, those emotions that well up when bad memories and failing relationships are brought to the forefront. "Be safe," she manages to say to him before he goes.