Log:Tatooine: A Hutt's Hospitality
The New Lord of Tatooine, the Great Borgol the Hutt welcomes guests to his palace.
OOC Date: March 12, 2022
Location: Tatooine
Participants: Amallia Madine, Azeezel Raj, Bizz Bliptettjupp, Borgol the Hutt as Self/GM, Dhr'rall, Fyrris, Hahtavi Kora, Merek, Risani, Seren, Tamsin Cas, Teela Kloo, Trip, Uutkit, Zevin Daodhri, Hutt Cartel
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
It is as the twin suns of Tatooine drift slowly to the horizon and cast the world in deeper, darker color with the threat of darkness fast approaching that the palace once held as the seat of power of the one commonly known as Jabba the Hutt truly comes alive. Throughout the day there has been subdued revelry, it's when nightfall approaches that the mounting energy of the day begins to show itself in earnest. The band begins to play a little louder, their tunes become a little snappier, and the various servants of the latest tenant of the former monastery hustle to provide the finest presentation that they are capable. The lighting is adequate, providing a suitable mood to the environment. The flavor of foods and drinks carry with them joyful tastes of a dozen different worlds.
The lord's guests are permitted into the palace as they arrive, their weapons left unchecked which may very well be a testament to the new resident's confidence or foolishness. As the guests are gradually ushered into the audience chamber where the main festivities begin to unfold as the party begins in earnest, it's without difficulty that even the most Miralukan of guests can note that lack of a Hutt's presence within the main hall.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Tucked into a corner booth are a trio of Jawas. Uutkit sits at the center, being the senior of the group. The three chitter quietly amongst themselves, discussing this and that. Uuutkit reaches for a glass of juice, taking a sip, eyes on the door. The trader of the sands seems to be quite at ease in this environment.
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Bizz is waiting in the line for those who wish an audience with the new daimyo of Tatooine. He has lugged a basket of pallies, pika, sour hubba gourds, and black melons from his speeder bike outside to give as the offering. A droid approaches him (finally) for a drink order and he says, "I will take a Yatooni Boska IF the fermented dewback sweat was obtained from a cruelty-free dewback. If not, I will take the local boga noga ale, you bumbling bucket of bolts!"
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Amidst those already present is the Mandalorian Teela Kloo. She's seated at a table sans helmet with her hair pinned back out of her face by a pair of clips. The T-visored helmet, sits facing the crowds of revelers with her armored left elbow resting beside it. Her right lays down on her leg, drumming the beat the band has picked up with the tips of her fingers upon the armor covering her thigh. There's a drink beside her, something subtle as she turns bright green eyes to regard those present and those coming to pay respects to the newest tenant of the Palace.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
Among the guests who arrived early, before the party really started to warm up, is a Mandalorian wearing heavy black battle armor. It is clear at a glance that no one has disarmed this warrior for a rifle is maglocked to either side of his jetpack and a baton hangs from his utility belt... among other things. Helmet still on for now, he stands off to one side by a low table with another Mandalorian with whom he has been quietly conversing. Teela.
As yet, this Mando has no evidence of food nor drink. His T-visored helmet shifts faintly to take in details of those arriving, a subtle inclination of his helm to those whom he knows should they look his way and he notice them.
While Teela is seated, Hahtavi Kora is not yet. He draws out a chair next to her and settles himself - as comfortably as a Mandalorian might with a jetpack and other things upon his back. Quite a variety of guests arriving to study. A serving droid comes by their table and his vocoder rumbles low, <"Whiskey."> The droid beeps and produces the glass.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Ah. A den of villainy and ne'er-do-wells. A hive of scum and bottom feeders. The most wretched souls in all of the galaxy gathered at a palace of infamy! Amallia Madine fits right in, clearly. She's standing by herself at a table somewhere at the center of the room. There's a little bop of her toe on the floor to the tunes of the cantina but, for the most part, she keeps her body language fairly neutral and non committed. Somewhere between friendly and 'please don't talk to me'. Why is Mollie here? Could it have something to do with owing a favor to the Lord Chrouda the Hutt for breaking her out of Shadowgate?
Yeah, actually, that's probably a pretty good reason for it.
She swirls her whiskey lazily in a tumbler glass before idly brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her left ear. Normally one to stick to lagers and ales, she doesn't quite trust anything without a high enough alcohol content to kill parasites, bacteria, or neutralize toxins unrelated to ethanol.
"The kriff is Zevin? And Trip? ... And Phia? And Azeezel?" Mollie says, and gives an exasperated sigh into her whiskey. -Then- she takes a sip and swallows. "Worst crew imaginable."
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The line to present themselves to the new Hutt Lord of Tatooine, was one Doctor Tamsin Cas. Dressed far more formally than she tended to, she waited with ease as the line moved at the Hutt Lord's chosen pace, her Muunish Clan robes a far cry from the less formal garb so familiar on the desert planet. A small MSE droid rolling beside her. Maglocked to its top shell was a crate of the sort one used to transport particularly choice vintages of alcoholic beverages. She glanced about the room now and then, noting those she knew, but with most of her attention on the Hutt, she did not step out of the line to offer greetings or well-wishes.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
Sniff. Sniff. Nostrils twitching and solid amber eyes flashing in the lighting while his ears seem to move as if to pivot. But it's far too loud in here. But that smell he knows, even over hutt musk and other reeks for his olfactory to power through. Head turning and flicking his head to get his hair out of his face while a sharp toothed grin parts his lips.
There she is, a familiar face. Fyrris's path swings, most literally when he plants his cane against the ground to begin his turn to start towards Amallia. The quadra-armed sentient able to hold arms as out as he can without smacking other patrons while still stepping with the alternating 'clink' of his cane in his spproach, "Captain Madine, thought I smelled a specific range of gorgeous."
A glass of deep red brandy is put into his fourth hand, to be thrown back and the empty taken by the butler droid flanking him. "Hoping you've had a relatively well time on this dustball?"
[ Trip (Tri)]
Trip is NOT a rabbit in a giant mech-suit. His armor is custom fit, the finest grade and quality befitting what some might say a Knight. Though the leg design was one that allowed the Lagomorph to walk on his own fuzzy bare feet. Additionally, there was a spot for his tail to stick out of, and his head was left uncovered, free of a helmet so his tall ears could stand alert and erect. Bare paw-hands grip a datapad that's laughably large for him, nearly as big as him in fact, but the creature seems unfazed by this reality. One does what one must in a giant's galaxy.
Trip can be found seated on a CLEAN stool, his legs sticking out over the edge of his seat kicking idly, and his tail thoughtfully flicking behind him as he looked over some trade expenditures with slight interest.
[ Dhr'rall (dhr)]
A Hutt back in Jabba's Palace. This is enough to pique a Togorian's curiosity. Especially one of the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Dhr'rall notes immediately the lack of a Hutt when entering, thankful for Hutt height and size. For once he does not need to duck to enter a place. With no Hutt present to check in upon, Dhr'rall chooses to head towards the area with the drinks. This begins the ritual of finding a seat that will not collapse out from underneath him.
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Teela glances over to Hahtavi when he takes a seat at the table and reaches over to grab her own drink for a sip. There are plenty of people milling around now, all standing in line to pay their respects. She acknowledges those she knows with a nod, but lets them have their moment with the Hutt Lord hosting the part before engaging any of them in proper greeting.
Instead she looks over to Hahtavi, "Glad you came out." There's a glossy look in her green eyes, one of which is still healing. Slightly red tint around the iris and small white, but mending, scars on her darkly tanned face. "A lot of people have." Which is no real surprise to her. Parties usually bring everyone out of their ships.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The arrival of Lord Borgol the Hutt is one that is heralded by the sudden pounding of drums that results in the Max Rebo Band's music softening, but never halting. Art could never be truly silence, right? A blaster could probably counter that argument. The drums continue to pound away as the truly impressive mound of Hutt slowly slithers his way forward from behind the dais that makes up his throne while overseeing the health and variety of his guests or court. On account of his size it's a blessing that the Hutt Lord does still maintain his mobility, even if the impression may be that he's slowing on account of his mass. Or perhaps it's all just a clever ruse.
As the Hutt Lord settles in atop the dais, each of his eyes turns to regard the audience filling the chamber. One natural gold eye that could inspire feelings of avarice in a Hutt. The other a cybernetic eye which burns with a golden light. They move independently of one another, taking note of both the unfamiliar present and those who are a little less so. Once propped and settled upon the cushions which make up the majority of the decor atop the dais, the Hutt begins to speak with a strong voice which practically sets the air itself shaking and quivering. Meanwhile a finely dressed young human man begins to speak while standing near the corner of Borgol's dais, standing before the immense Hutt's slowly slapping tail. The human's voice rises up, translating the Huttese spoken by the Lord, "In most amiable terms you are welcomed to my home," the translator announces with energy and vigor, seemingly repeating the Hutt's words verbatim as he lifts a fist as if to emphasize his words, "tonight you are free to indulge in your vices and expect no judgement from your fellows. I bid you to feast until you feel as though you may burst, drink until you feel your gut sloshing, indulge in your desires with your fellow guests, and enjoy the exotic tingle of ryll and spice! If a dispute arises? It will be brought before me or there will be consequences".
The translator goes quiet, glances toward the now silent Hutt. A nod is given and the translator continues on, without the Hutt's need to speak, "Those who wish to meet with His Excellence, Lord Borgol, may do so. He is prepared to acknowledge you."
That seems to be the conclusion of the speeches, because the translator goes quiet and the band's music rises up with new strength and vigor as it fills the chamber. The security forces of the palace continue to patrol, watching over the affairs of the palace and its guests. The drinks continue flow and the food delivered from collared servants as the haze of smoke begins to fill the air.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Amallia's eyes continue to wander the crowd, the lower half of her face obscured with that glass of whiskey. Finally, those wide green eyes do find Trip seated on his stool, and she laughs a little huff of air into her glass that makes the whiskey within ripple. "Well at least someone showed u--" she starts to say, just as a familiar face rings out from behind her. She turns her head to look over her shoulder to Fyrris, squinting at him a moment before giving another laugh and taking another sip of whiskey.
"Fyrris," she says, just after she chuckles. "I won't be askin' what specific range I fall into, though I assume top percentile," she says. A shrug is given to his question about Tatooine. She answers as honestly as she can.
"Only just got here, really. Been dealing with a bit of shavit most of my day," she says, and swirls that whiskey a little lazily. Borgol's address sees the captain turn to look back over her shoulder, nose wrinkling a touch when the Hutt Lord speaks. Something about those beady eyes and that... tongue. Bleck. When the speech concludes and the music lifts up, she turns back to Fyrris.
"It's a lovely planet, though. Very dry. I love a nice and arid planet," she says.
[ Zevin Daodhri (Zev)]
"I'm right here, girl." Zevin is a few feet away from Mollie and behind her. He isn't actively sneaking. He's just walking with the deliberate light step that has become second-nature after decades spent where being unseen and unheard meant staying alive. "Yer drinkin' harder 'n usual. Numbin' the pain a' potential shame? It'll be /fine/. Borgol might not even know. An' if he does?" He swirls his glass. "We'll handle it."
"Fyrris, good ta see ye." His helmet's not on, leaving the ice-and-pepper hair of his buzzed face and crown visible, along with the deep blue eyes and smile that spreads a small web of creases on his face. He turns to lift his chin towards Teela and Hahtavi at their table. "Moll, let's go join 'em. 'ey're good people, I promise." His tone is dry and low: "I ain't just sayin' that 'cause they're Mandos."
He scans for who looks to be attempting to gain the Hutt's attention, seeing only Tamsin seeing to make the effort. "Doctor Cas. Good luck. Yew too, Hahtavi, if yer tryin' yer hand."
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz only has a minute to sip on his Yatooni Boska drink - fermented from the finest dewback sweat - before he is called to the audience spot. He puts his Yatooni Boska on an astromech's tray and lugs his basket of pallies, pika, sour hubba gourds, and black melons with him. "Greetings to the new daimjo. I am Brother Bizz and I come in place of the librarian Shiin in Mos Eisley. The librarian Shiin offers this medley of local fruits as tribute to the daimjo." He gives the heavy basket of fruit to whichever henchman is designated and bows politely. If allowed, he shuffles off stage to find that wandering astromech with his drink on its tray.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
"I grew up very humid - this is far too dry for me." C4 actually lifting a little spritzer to humidify the air around Fyrris as he lets one hand make its attempt to rest on Mollie's shoulder, "And I'd have you nowhere lower than the top one percentile, Captain." grin broadening before his can is tapped twice on the floor with his shift to Zevin.
"Master Daodhri - my favorite helmet person, to date... Next to Sumi - whom I am sure will otherwise put things not intended for it up my rump and then post me so I slide down in a most terrible fashion." pointing with one hand towards the other mandalorians, "I'd take his invite, Captain Madine - rough but reliable company I can much assure you... I you'll forgive me, I need to go grovel a touch."
One of his brows waggle and the codru is moving again, slipping to the line to meet the Hutt lord to stand with all four hands resting on the grip of the cane he walks with.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
Unlike Teela, Hahtavi doesn't remove his helmet. Not yet, not with so many strangers filing into the space. He tips his helmet back slightly to sip his drink and then resettles it ere setting his glass of whiskey back on the table.
<"Elek. It has been a while since I took contracts for a Hutt. I used to do quite a few."> Ah, but then Borgol himself returns to his dias and the crowd quiets back down as the drums strike up. Hahtavi himself moves to stand for Borgol's entrance. Otherwise, this Mandalorian is tracking various reactions of others around the chamber. A 360 degree view in his helmet's HUD is handy, among other things. Ah, there is his vod, Zevin to whom Hahtavi gives a faint nod by way of silent greeting.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit takes a little sip of juice, just watching the crowd. 'Bab-loo, took! Utinni!' he calls, waving at one of his fellows who enters from the entrance. The little group of traders is growing in number! They chitter back and forth, nodding to each other before Uutkit slides from the booth, gathering his robes about himself as he begins to walk towards the line to see the Hutt.
[ Azeezel Raj (raj)]
Then comes behind (late) Mollie a figure in glistening, pristine white and the most shocking blue. The Phase II armor gleams. All is present for, even the helm, though this is slung on his belt. It is thus that the face of a crimson-skinned Azeezel Raj can be seen, his hair glittering black. His eyes glinting amber in the low-level light. Even though he tails in after Mollie, a hand reaches out to snatch the nearest beverage of alcohol, held in blue-painted armored fingers for a moment before it's tossed back and set aside. Then another. Yet another. The Zeltron's skin is already shifting in shade to a darker crimson, then brighter, like apples. He listens to all the chatter and watches The Hutt Lord speak, "You know -" This directed to the Captain he follows. "- I am almost entirely positive The Lord might try to engage you, Captain." Another swiped drink raised at Zevin, "I'd put money on that bet."
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
When Brother Bizz arrives upon the metal grating before the dais, Borgol shifts ever so slightly within his mound of cushions. He still seems to be seeking that optimal point of comfort and likely finds it judging by the satisfied, rumbling sigh. A thick arm waves slightly, gesturing as broad as that chubby appendage may in recognition of Bizz and the local edible delights. It seems that the Hutt is particularly magnanimous tonight, for when he begins to speak like approaching thunder the translator begins to speak with a warm smile to match the words that he shares, "Lord Borgol appreciates this fine gift of local cuisine and hopes that it will be a sign for the future prosperity which the people of Tatooine and himself may enjoy. He will also make it abundantly clear that this library in Mos Eisley will receive a donation from his personal wealth and make certain it is considered a place of higher learning and thus inviolable, so long as it purpose remains exclusive to that". The translator spares a glance to his master, who adds a final remark which the finely dressed human regards Bizz once more and repeats the Hutt Lord's words, "Lord Borgol recognizes your presence and wills you to enjoy the evening's festivities and enjoy the safety of being his honored guest."
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
"A heavy dose of shame, though I will say that whole shavitshow wasn't entirely my fault. And -you- should be drinking too. Leavin' me to rot in that cell for... what. A day? Two? I bet you were in a mud bath somewhere with little shlewcumber slices over both eyes," Mollie says. And then sips again, a little tsk of air atop the roof of her mouth just before she swallows. She stands up straight, having previously been resting both elbows on the table before her. A laugh is given to Fyrris as the man dismisses himself, and she turns her hand toward the Hutt Lord, palm up, as if to say 'by all means'.
"Alright, mate. We can hang out with your helmet friends. Though I admit I feel a touch underdressed at the moment. I'm kriffed if there's a scuffle, and not in the good way," she says.
Azeezel finally shows up in his storm trooper armor and Mollie puts a hand on her hip and lifts her whiskey glass to her lips to take a slow sip.
"If he does, I'll just send you instead. Do zeltron hormones work on Hutts? I hope so. Think you two would make a rather tidy couple." And then she gestures towards Teela and Hahtavi. Helmet friends.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin, waiting until she was called, offered a pleasant, 'Thank you', to Daodhri as he passed along his well wishes. She stepped easily to her place as she was shown her mark, a hand gesturing to the MSE droid, who moved up beside her. "I thank you for the opportunity to present myself, Great Borgol, and to offer my well-wishes to the new Lord of Tatooine." Was that actually his title now? Well, he was a Hutt, so the bigger the better. More butter, never less. "I come in my own name, Doctor Tamsin Cas of Muunilinst, and an investor in the businesses of Mos Espa. I come also as a representative of my father, Senvere Cas, Magister of Clan Cas. I bring his well-wishes as well, and offer a gift in celebration of your ascension to the throne." Tamsin leaned down, pressing a button on the top of the case poised on the MSE droid's chassis, which opened to reveal a full dozen bottles of Bakuran Star Wine. "The Magister extends the hand of diplomacy and friendship to you and yours, and hopes that the amiable and profitable relationship between the Hutts and the Intergalactic Banking Clans will only flourish and prosper under your guidance and his."
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Teela nods agreement with Hahtavi, then inclines her chin in greeting to Zevin and co. There are yet a few empty chairs around them at the small table, with room atop said table if she moves her helmet. "Thinking I might make it a permanent gig." Waving a finger around at the Chamber, "Pay's good, companies agreeable.. I like Tatooine." It's hot, desert, and reminds her of home without all the cannibals. "At least until after..." Said with a smirk, gloved hand running down her face to rub at her nose.
She looks towards the line that's formed before the Hutt Lords dias. Green eyes skipping face to face without her head moving. At least until Mollie joins. "Yeah?" She asks with a grin and side eye glance at Hahtavi, "Hear that?" Her thumb lifts off her gunbelt to point in Mollie's direction.
Her expression goes a bit more serious, however. "There wont be any scuffles here. Not any that last very long, anyways."
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz Bliptettjupp and those 'in the know' are aware that Shiin's Library is a front for a notorious slicer, and isn't always used for higher learning. But maybe Borgol the Hutt doesn't know that. Or maybe some things should be left unsaid. "Thank you daimjo." He gives another bow and then shuffles off, chasing an astromech droid with a tray that holds his drink made from dewback sweat.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit waits patiently, frowning as one of the slaves approaches to inquire as to his business. Given that the Jawa distrusts the being's ability to speak his language, he uses the Lord's tongue. "uba jeedai punyoo, h'chu yocula nobo droi stoopa dwana. uba jeedai che mee jee punyoo dwana che chowba. pankpa nibobo nobata togwa uba stoopa, jee-jee h'chu ulwan lorda! uba jee copah jee copah punyoo mruishani killee copah copah keta killee, oot-main dopa shag, jee-jee punyoo stoopa dopa copah keta chowba. copah keta nibobo droi jee-jee stoopa shag." [Language: Huttese]
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
Now Borgol is receiving his audiences, Hahtavi resumes his seat. To Teela's comment he replies quietly, <"That should be interesting. Tatooine isn't that disimilar to our homeworld, haat."> A smirk behind his own helmet, <"Give me a reason to be out this way more often.">
Ah, some others are coming over to join them. Hahtavi gives Mollie a polite nod for greeting, then to Zev, <"Su cuy'gar, vod."> A soft chuckle to Teela's comment about Mollie's safty here.
Chairs are nudged out in invitation to the others with a booted foot. Seems the place is really hopping, tonight.
[ Azeezel Raj (raj)]
Azeezel Raj will continue to follow Mollie, all the way to the table of Helmet Friends. Though as the words hit his ears, those black eyes glint amber as they turn towards the Hutt Lord, though his words are aimed at her. "You know, when you get jealous like this I can feel it, yes?" The Zeltron just stuffs another drink down his gullet. Compulsively swiping pieces of this and that from here and there to taste, try, set down, and repeat. When Tamsin is up to speak to the Lord, so is it the Zeltron will stop and listen. Turning his gaze afterwards to Hahtavi and Teely and giving a raise of -- some kind of fruit. It's bitten into, then set aside, crunchcrunch. After a moment there's a look to Mollie, a wink given, and Azeezel Raj is moving into the line to speak to the Hutt Lord.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Borgol provides Bizz with a final nod of acknowledge, even as his eyes track after the basket of produce which is carried away by a servant. It is while Borgol is busy watching those fruits that his golden eyes fall upon Doctor Tamsin Cas. A low sound rises up from the Hutt that sounds vaguely of surprise, but he's prompt in going silent that he may patiently hear out the doctor's words. He sits propped upon his veritable mountain of pillows and, quite possible, some small rodent which had to grand misfortune of snuffling around within that mound of pillows before the Hutt Lord's great girth compacted them. Borgol watches with the unerring patience of a nearly three century old-and-counting Hutt. The presentation of the bottle brought forth by the MSE droid and Doctor Cas's business diplomatic ventures earns the softest rumble of a chuckle from the Hutt Lord's wide mouth. When the sound begins to die away and the Hutt begins to speak in his (enlightened) native tongue, the translator is prompt in conveying his words into galactic standard Basic, "His Excellence appreciates your offered gift, Doctor Tamsin Cas of Muunilinst and further salutes your wise choice of investing in the economy of Mos Espa. He also wishes for you to extend his well-wishes to your father, Senvere Cas, and invites you to also extend an offer for your father to contact him on behalf of the Banking Clans".
There is a pause as the Hutt's gaze shifts, drifting to the table which currently resides at least three individuals: Amallia, Zevin, and Azeezel as he begins to move from their company.
Soon his attention turns back to Tamsin Cas and the translator continues delivering the Huttese into Basic, "Lord Borgol values your presence and invites such an accomplished guest to enjoy the finest that his hospitality may provide."
[ Zevin Daodhri (Zev)]
"Eh, I'd take that bet. Callin' in other Hutts' debts while celebratin' victory? Only if he had a feud with Mollie, so messin' with her would be, like, a celebration." But this discussion becomes rapidly one-sided on Zevin's part, as Azeezel goes to join the petitioners and givers-of-gifts.
"I don't feel underdressed, but I wish I had somethin' good to give as a gift on short notice." The half-Echani in his forties looks over to Teela, eyebrow raised. "Y'sayin' we're safe 'cause only an idiot'd cause trouble, or are y'workin' security? Yew, too?" he asks Hahtavi.
He sips his beer as the presentations continue, and he overhears the Jawa speaking to a functionary. He doesn't interrupt, but he doesn't even pretend he's not listening. "That Jawa's got guts. He's tryin' to negotiate business at a revel. Hope he brought a nice gift."
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Mollie -snorts- a laugh at Azeezel's comment and points to him with her forefinger and thumb in the shape of a little gun. "And there I have it. Objective, tantamount evidence that you are absolutely full of shavit," she says. The banter is sharp but it appears to be loving between the three. Mollie peers down at the chair that's kicked out for her and she frowns, looking down at herself as if she's momentarily forgotten how to sit in a dress. She does eventually sit, crossing the leg with the cut up the skirt over the other. Her whiskey has magically turned into a mug of ale and she leans her head forward to wrap her lips around the rim. A bit of that foam gets on the tip of her nose, but it's not worth fussing over until after she's finished taking a drink from the mug.
"Well, then I am relieved. Nowhere to put a gun in this getup, though I've heard of some ladies who keep little knives on the thigh. Thought that'd ruin my hemline, though," she says with a smile.
"I think we've all met, but I'm rekk with names. I'm Mollie, you know Zev, and my pink-and-shiny friend here is named Azeezel."
Of course, there is the matter of the Hutt Lord's heavy, shifting gaze resting firmly on the table. But there's a reason why she was once made to refer to herself as 'Big Dumb Mollie' in front of a group of strangers by a client she'd screwed over. She's completely oblivious.
She looks surprised at Zevin, a little amused laugh coming from her lungs. "You speak Huttese? My goodness, you are a Mando-f many talents," she says. It's not her greatest pun.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit waits patiently as the slave departs, smoothing out his robes, looking quite dignified for as a Jawa as he patiently awaits his turn to discuss trade business with the Hutt.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
Hahtavi laughs briefly through his helmet's vocoder at what Zev says, <"I am not - officially. But if anyone is stupid enough to cause trouble in here, I may ablige to keep the peace."> A subtle cant of his helmet to 'look' in /that/ jawa's direction, <"He's a bold one that has a lot to say. Didn't see a gift."> For that matter, Hahtavi didn't bring a gift either. His presence /is/ a gift, paying his respects.
Fyrris is observed, someone he's seen before. When Doctor Cas's audience is concluded with Lord Borgol, Hahtavi gives her a respectful nod should he catch her eye. He himself is seated at a side table with Teela. Mollie and Zev having joined them.
A faint shrug back to Zevrin, <"A good place and time to discuss business if the other is willing. A lot of contacts, here.">
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The note of surprise from the Hutt was neither acknowledged nor played upon by the golden skinned Firrerreo, though the canny mind might have advised that the good Doctor had, perhaps, thought to disguise the rarity of her species, lest it peak the Hutt's avarice. Or perhaps advised her to offer some explanation for why one who was not Muun represented one such Clan here. In any case, Tamsin, having offered both gift and greetings, bowed in the way of her people who were not her people. "I thank you for the appreciation, Lord Borgol, and will pass on your words to my father." Tamsin offered nothing more, save to gesture for the droid to go off to deliver the gift, before she stepped aside, lest the queue for the Hutt Lord's attention be slowed by her dalliance.
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
"Well, either way someone would be pretty idiotic to cause trouble, right?" Teela dodges actually answering Zevin's question with a half grin and a raised brow directed at Mollie when her vision actually focuses a little bit on what the woman is wearing. "Ayy, Elek. I didn't recognize you..." She tilts her head to get a better look at her dress and nods slowly, "This is works for you.." Motioning up and down at what she's wearing. "I cleaned my armor before I came, but it got dirty again between the ship and the chambers."
while she'd heard the little banter, it really isn't her place to get involved. She chuckles after the Zeltron and lifts her fingers in an acknowledging wave. "Good to see you again, Vod." Fist laying against her armored chest. "Ahh Hahtavi, just a humble servant of the people, keeping the uncivilized civil." She grins and sends a wink across the table at him.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
Upper shoulders bopping to the music, lower shoulders still. Holding his patience to give Dr. Cas her time and only once she has cleared away does the Codru step forth; there is a small flourish of his cane when his turn comes and Fyrris even offers a bow once the cane is tucked like a crop between a lower arm and his ribs. "Great and most illustrious Lord of Tatooine."
Keeping himself in his deep bow and only rising when it is on the verge of being too long an act, "I would wish to be honored to be allowed a momentary purview in your nigh eternal attentions, Terrific, Generous and Magnanimous, Borgol The Hutt; I am Fyrris Tuwillicker Byaddini Thaddeus Bonvulio Chaserwhim Jupradii Totallymer Kashmyeire Rundolli Vochar - of Thyferra's Zaltin Corporate Family and purveyor of the Pazaak and Tabac on Nar Shaddaa. While the Sith Empire is hampering much of my family trade, I come to you for with to offer my congratulations to your rise as the Supreme Lord of the Tatoo System and in addition of a tithe to show my good will relating to a potential expansion of interests extending to Tatooine I would like to assure your continued comforts as you become settled in."
The cane drops, caught by his lower left and struck by the lower right to rise spinning - allowed three revolutions before being caught by the upper right and planted point down against the ground, held at a shallow angle from his body - a signal for C4 and several servants to present a collection of cates to be placed between he and the Hutt's throne,
"Choice selections of both loose leaf, rolled in tabac-stick and cigarra as well as ground for hooka use; pure and laced with the finest ryl and spice for your private enjoyment my Grandiose Lord." lower left arm indicating those before his lower right motions to the others, "And fine liquor from the clubs private stocks; I feel to be woefully lacking compared to your own majestic collection; but hopefully an amusing diversion, my lord."
Again the cane rests before Fyrris and all four hands are on the grip again.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
"Doctor Cas? Lord Borgol invites you to visit once again in the future for a private audience. He believes there is much more discuss, but he must provide his guests with a good host," the translator relates following the Hutt Lord's parting words to Doctor Tamsin Cas. Following the good doctor's potential response and eventual departure, Lord Borgol's attention turns to the next in the line of guests or supplicants.
In this case it is no supplicant. It is a finely dressed Codru-Ji in the form of Fyrris, who arrives with a few servants armed with a variety of crates. The greeting presented by Fyrris, followed by the introduction is met by the rigid stone expression of a Hutt Lord who is either unimpressed or simply taking it all in and taking ample time to figure out how to exploit it. Only when the presentation of gifts and the message delivered with them is concluded does the Hutt Lord's mouth open and widen in what can only be a Hutt's approximately of a broad, leering smile as his golden eyes come to settle solely upon Fyrris while the Hutt's thunderous voice begins to fill the area around the platform which makes up the Most Magnanimous Lord of Tatooine's throne. While the Huttese fills the air, sending it practically shaking with each syllable, the exquisitely dressed human conveys the Hutt's sentiment, "Lord Borgol sees that you are a man of culture and quality," and for a moment the translator seems on the verge of breaking into tears. A deep breath later and he begins to speak, his mouth working hard to form words that it was likely never intended to form, "Fyrris Tuwillicker Byaddini Thaddeus Bonvulio Chaserwhim Jupradii Totallymer Kashmyeire Rundolli Vochar of Thyferra's Zaltin Corporation Family," and the translator almost seems faint after all of that. He visibly appears to be taking a deep breath.
The Hutt seems to consider his translator with a long stare that seems as though it could suddenly be encroaching upon the realm of violence. It is a night for revelry however and mercifully enough the Hutt Lord's attention turns back to Fyrris as he begins to speak and the translator does his ready best to continue, "Lord Borgol wills you to visit him in the near future to discuss the plight of your family and its shipping needs. Until such a time? You are to be afforded the privilege of one of your standing while visiting his court, as Lord Borgol extends his appreciation for your most outlandish gifts."
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin, who paused as the translator drew her attention, tipped her head to show that she was listening, and then, in the few spare seconds before the translator was drawn back to do his allotted work, Tamsin nodded, "I would be delighted to met with the Lord Borgol at his convenience." Anything else she might say would have to wait. Now was not the time. What was the time, was time to garner something to drink, and now that she was not under the weather eye of the Hutt and his entourage, Tamsin moved to what served as the bar, to order the most precious liquid on a desert planet, a glass of clean, cool, water. Her work, for the moment, was done.
[ Azeezel Raj (raj)]
The Zeltron, for all his charm and shinyness, is like some kind of action-figure in his armor. Standing in line with all the rest, he listens, his pupiless eyes turning time and again towards the table where Mollie and Helmet Heroes sit. However, to occupy himself while he waits, Azeezel Raj is not beyond simply reaching over (often while the own isn't looking) to swipe a small treat from a plate. A bowl. Even a fork. Stuffing an assortment of things here and there into his mouth inbetween, and it's only when Fyrris' names are all brought forth that - the Zeltron coughs some. Clearing his throat. Pounding his chest. "Do you think each of those names is one of the children he stole?" Ayyyyy, there's a soft-elbowing to a nearby guest. Probably laughter.
[ Seren (Ser)]
Seren had entered the Hutt palace at some point amidst all the hubbub, and remained towards the back of the chamber while others eight sought to do the same, or sought the attention of the Hutt lord himself. People watching was a pastime of many, so it should hardly be considered unusual that that was just what she was doing...
Oh, and of course she was here for the water.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
To Mollie, the black armored Mandalorian answers, <Nayc. No."> By his tone perhaps Hahtavi considers it a blessing if you only got 'Fryrris'. Amusement is hidden behind his T-visored helmet. Mostly though he's sitting with Teela and tipping his helmet slightly back now and then to take a sip of his whiskey glass, nursing it along slowly, then lowering his helmet back down without showing his face. Here among so many strangers.
Unless something interesting kicks up, picking up what details he may about those who gather here tonight that he does not know well.
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
"It was a compliment." Teela assures Mollie with a smirk, popping a small cap to slid up one nostril while the other is blocked with her thumb. She snorts back some spice, a blinks a few times, then shakes her head. Wiping both thumb and knuckle down the center of her nose while reaching for her drink to wash down the bitter taste in the back of her throat, "Last time I saw you, you were wearing a..." Pointing finger extending out from her glass, "Swoop racing suit.. Right?" Her eyes are wildly dilated and her chin keeps ticking towards her shoulder every couple seconds.
She finally takes a long drink from the frothy beverage and hisses through clenched teeth. "Just that this ~" Motioning at the dress with her mug rising and falling, "~ is a big step up from that. I'm not sure where you're hiding your blaster... You are hiding a blaster right?" A look to Hahtavi, then over at Fryrris and all of his many names. "Huh.." But they all heard it and have commented on them. Her hand drops back down to her belt, near to one of the pair of blasters.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
"Would I could have given a more proper due, My Most Fantastic and Gracious Lord - I am humbled that you would accept them with such bright candor." the cane swings up and behind Fyrris when he bows again, quite pleased with his securing 'the good seats' at hutt court while making sure to grease wheels as needed. A flick of his gaze to C4 who gives a nod and a momentary show of bank transfer data across his vocalizer visualizer.
Standing upright anew, the Codru takes steps back until he is no longer turning his back upon the Hutt Lord and makes for where he might make himself a seat near the Heliost and Helmet people - making an attempt to sit where he has space on other side of himself - while a glance at Azeezel warrants a pair of filter plugs to be casually tucked into his nostrils.
"Fantastic. I need a dri-" a fresh brandy placed before him by the butler droid gaining a happy quadruple shoulder wiggle before he's addressing the table at large. "Perfect. Hello again!" nodding all around.
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz is chasing down an astromech with a platter on its head carrying his Yatooni Boska fermented dewback sweat drink. "Come here you nickel-plated nincompoop!" He finally catches the errant droid and grabs his beverage, having a well-deserved swig of the Tatooine delicacy.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin, now waiting with that infinite patience borne of her upbringing at the bar, shifted to allow herself to continue to watch the goings on. Partly curiosity, no doubt, partly a doctor's eye view to potential trouble. Always prepared, right? As one of the slaves came over to take her order, Tamsin tipped her head, showing the man respect, "Just a glass of water, if I might, I'm certain you have something suitable on hand?" The slave nodded. Of course the Great Borgol would have water for his guests and he was soon off to procure the required beverage before he returned to the bar.
[ Zevin Daodhri (Zev)]
"Fyrris jus' knows we wouldn't be impressed by 'em." Zevin is pragmatic about this name-secrecy betrayal. "Maybe Azeezel knew 'em. He's sometimes fancy, too. We, Moll, are not." He glances over at her red dress with the slit up the thigh. "Though y'do a good job pretendin'. Maybe ye jus' need practice." He tips back about half of his own whiskey.
"'at poor translator. His Magnificence didn't say 'at full name, I'll tell you that. Hutts may speak slowly, but nobody's got time for /'at/."
He turns to look at Teela with a half-smile. "I'm her blaster. She don't need one tonight." He doesn't pat his weapons, but they're there, as ever. A rifle over his shoulder, a revolver at his hip, a blaster pistol at his chest, and a knife in an arm sheath. "Could wear a knife as part of a necklace, though. Good trick, 'at. Also stiletto knife hairpins."
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Teela winks at Zevin, "Damn good blaster then." Rubbing at her nose after another drink from her cup now discarded beside her helmet.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The departure of Fyrris is met by a solemn, albeit shallow nod from the Hutt Lord. Then his attention turns to regard the next who may move to stand before him atop that metal grate some distance before the cushioned dais. His tail slaps against the platform in time with the Max Rebo Band's latest tune - (That Joyous Night) I Ate My Mate - and the one who translates his words from Huttese into the Basic tongue is quick to quench his thirst with a long pull from a glass of wine.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Look, what girl doesn't like attention? Certainly not ones named Amallia Madine. Well, at least not -this- Amallia Madine. There might be one or two more -- it's a big galaxy. She does look rather smug about it, too. Tips her chin down to look out towards Teela from behind her long lashes. Those big green eyes with that light touch of red eyeshadow. When she finishes her drink, she lets out a bemused little laugh. It seems, for a moment, Mollie Madine is well and truly speechless.
But nothing good lasts for long.
"Y'see, boys, this is how you talk to a lady," she explains, gesturing towards Zevin and Azeezel and eventually towards Fyrris now that he's arrived at the table. Zevin is gestured to once again in turn when he answers whether or not Mollie is concealing a blaster, though she does briefly make eye contact with Teela once again and a less-than-subtle lift of both brows.
"You could check, if you'd like. You are security, yeah?" she says, and then laughs. She uncrosses her leg to kick out a chair for Fyrris to sit at, if he'd like. She re-crosses her legs and sets her free hand back in her lap. A very ladylike posture, were it not for the rather large mug of beer that looks even larger in her small hands.
"Ahh, Zevin," Mollie says, and reaches over to give the Mandalorian a gentle series of bonks of her fist against his shoulder armor. "Y'see? I'm spoiled, really. My own Mandoman to protect me at a party. I really do feel like the belle of the ball."
[ Risani (Ris)]
Confounded as she pondered the etiquette of dress at a Hutt party, Risani has opted for a rogueish slant. A leather sleeveless, crimson top that runs high on her neck flows neatly in to a fairly modest, charcoal high-low skirt with a circular hem. High-waisted, the skirt has a couple concentric rings at the top both to break up the unpatterned fabric and provide room for a reinforced ring at the back through which her tail escapes the confines of her clothing. One fairly thick belt is wrapped about her waist to act as the support for another that runs askew her form. Rather than carry a weapon though, it mostly just holds a pouch that acts as a maglocked purse for all intents and purposes. Pairing with her usual gold adorned conches, her wrists carry flat, burnished bangles that are nearly skin tight. They would likely be uncomfortable if not for the sleeves of synthetic fabric, hooked to her middle fingers, that run up her arms to nearly the elbow in an effort to break up her tawny fur.
Emerging from the dungeon walk, Risani huffs a breath to expel the disgusting, effluvial grime of the underside of the palace to replace with the riot of scents and smells of a myriad beings from across the Galaxy. It takes her a moment to adjust her eyes and as she does so she lingers at the threshold to the audience chamber. After drawing in a deep breath and fixing a placid smile on her lips, she weaves her way through the masses to make her way towards the dais. One does not visit the kingdom without announcing one's self to the reigning monarch.
"Lord Borgol," Risani curtsies rather than bows, lest she reveal more tail that is already leisurely swishing through the air behind her person. She keeps things simple rather than heaping platitudes on the gargantuan form of the Hutt. "Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of the vigor you have brought to this lifeless desert."
[ Seren (Ser)]
Seren approached the place where Tamsin Cas stood, having already ordered herself a tall glass of water from a passing slave. She now held it in a gloved hand, as she regarded the room at large before focusing her attention on Tamsin Cas herself. <"So what do you make of all..."> Seren waved her free hand about to indicate the room entirely. <"This?> It was a fantastic introduction, lacking completely anything like a greeting, or a name. You know, the usual.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
Settling into the kicked out chair, waggling for comfort, Fyrris lifts his glass to drink and settles back to relax some while the other chat about, well weapons and other nasty touches of business. Truly ghastly, but aught else for it. "It's so hot here, I suspect that the cost of air conditioning must make it prohibitive." amber gaze going from helmet to helmet to he... Stang there are a lot of rekking helmets.
Stopping on Teela, "Stars alive you're a woman." blinking "It was the attire that concealed it; though now I have to admit now I can't unsee it." leaning one elbow on the table and waggling a brow, "A good eve to you for certain, miss." leaning back again and back to where his droid is now fanning him, musn't dampen the suit without need, after all.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
Lord Borgol's ponderously turns his attention toward the latest to address him from the position before his dais. Finding Risani there, the Hutt's broad face almost seems to alike with a broad smile and his massive tongue slips forward to sample the air and the coating of mucus and slime that has began to collect on the corner of his mouth. When his tongue retracts once more, the Hutt Lord begins to speak in response to Risani's words of thanks as his stubby arm beckons Risani a little closer. If she complies, then he continues on with his Huttese while his translator conveys the Hutt Lord's words, "Risani, Lord Borgol bids you take two or three steps forward," which would conveniently place her near the center of the metal grate sat flush with the floor. Should she take those steps forward, then the Hutt continues with watery eyes that seem to make every effort to focus upon her as he and his translator continues, "You are welcome here. You've provided services in the past and they have not been forgotten. Put yourself at ease," the Hutt says with a soft, mucus-laden chuckle before he and the translator continue, "and enjoy the opportunity to pursue your choice of indulgence and debauchery."
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Teela brushes her thumb and knuckle down her nose, watching Mollie's reaction with a quiet laugh. She finishes off her drink and slides the empty cup away from her towards her helmet where it stops upon connecting with it. "I just call it like I see it." She says in playful difference, one hand shrugging out from her gun-belt.
At the raised brow, however, she perks her own. "I've seen you throw a bottle at a trandoshan for interrupting your drink..." Leaning towards Mollie and company so she can point across the table at her, "If I get checking you for blasters, I'd have to make sure you're not carrying any sharp objects or heavy ones, or even light ones that could potentially be used as projectiles." Her finger taps on her helmet, settling back in her chair.
Just as Fyrris comes up and confirms for himself her gender... she squints up at him, pupils big enough to land a starship in, "Emperor's black bones, you're a man... I could have swore by your dainty hands..." She slaps a hand down on her armored thigh, "Well, I guess it's just a good night of revoluations for all of, eh?"
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin, looking over at an unfamiliar face, offered a polite nod. She did not smile, but there was nothing in her expression that was angry or standoffish. rather, it just seemed her way not to do so, "It is a spectacle. I think the group is equally divided between those who are looking to garner favour with the Hutt, those who are on reconnaissance to see what they can make of this new Hutt Lord, and those who are simply here for the free food and drink." As her water was delivered, she passed over a few credit chits, surreptitiously, and turned to Seren, "Doctor Tamsin Cas."
[ Merek (Black)]
Merek walks along and into the Audience Chamber, to see about the place. He has on the dark armor which he often does with the helmet and orange faceplate. The only one that might recognize him would be Risani and Uutkit, the latter for his work as a sniper for the man, and the former from the Moon. To everyone else he takes a look about while he tries to find a place to relax, and looks at any refreshments that are there. He mostly watches the Farghul and Hutt for the moment, considering he doesn't know anything about anything at the moment likely.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit turns away from the queue for the Hutt, the line is seemingly far too long! "ihotura ghiethivoow." he mumbles, looking around. He smirks as he listens to Fyrris though, the idea of listening to another business-man seems to intrigue him, Uutkit waddling over to stand next to the man, peering up at him with his glowing eyes. [Language: Jawa_Trade]
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz finishes the rest of his fermented dewback sweat. He leaves the glass on a droid's serving tray and picks up another beer for the road. "Oh the desert sands of Tatween do drain one of precious bodily fluids. We must remain hydrated." He says this offhandedly to Uutkit the Jawa, as if a Jawa needs lessons on how to preserve water on his own planet.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
"It's my signature maneuver. For whatever reason, no one expects you to throw a full bottle of beer at their bonce," Amallia Madine says, and then turns to look at her rather full stein of beer for a moment. Then, a flick of those green eyes back to Teela and a bit more of that Cheshire smile. "Makes you think, yeah?" she says, and then laughs. Clearly amused. There's more talk of spot checking her for hidden weaponry, and Mollie elects to stay quiet and smug. "A lady ought to keep her secrets," she says, doing her best attempt at a posh Alderaanian again with... mixed success.
The exchange between Teela and Fyrris earns another laugh, but Mollie briefly turns her attention over her shoulder to a familiar voice greeting the Hutt lord. Risani. That girl gets everywhere, doesn't she. Mollie gives Zevin a little elbow in his side and then gestures towards the woman as she greets the Hutt Lord. She can't quite catch what Risani is saying. There's no way to miss Borgol's words, of course, but she doesn't speak Huttese.
"Oi. Pakko's?" she asks, and then gives an amused "huh" sound. A gentle shrug. She gives a glance towards Azeezel briefly, and then back to Fyrris.
"He does have kind of dainty hands, doesn't he? Dainty, but four of 'em. Imagine all the things I could do with four hands," muses Mollie.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
"Oh no, you've me mistaken, Lady Mandalorian. I'm no man; but we'll be honest that the physical resemblance is terribly close." three hands raising in a shrug, the fourth holding his drink and his cane grip cradled to hang from the fingers of an upper hand. "So I won't be offended, if you're not by me." head tilting, and his two free hands coming to lace clawed fingers before him on the table.
"If you're ever looking for work I might have some - in fact I know there's a bit of a job upcoming; don't know for sure, but the ravishing Captain Madine and the immensely plated Zevin might be able to have a good use for your presence; which of course I would pay for. After all - I only -" pausing and looing down at the jawa, solid amber eyes flashing in the dark; lacking in visible pupils but a thickening where they may be looking at the small creature.
He doesn't speak Jawa, or their trade language, very well. Curse words. So he finds himself at a loss for what to say. But a friendly fellow such as he; there's a solution there:
"Howwwwwwwdeeeeeee" and one hand in a slow arch-wave or the diminutive, robed, figure.
[ Risani (Ris)]
This time the deadly promise lurking beneath the gate does not cause the felinoid's step to fumble as she allows herself to be pulled along with each beckoning gesture. Instead, she minces forward heel to toe, golden-flecked eyes locked on the gargantuan form looming over his domain atop the dais. For the most part, she ignores the translator, but the angle of one of her ears has deflected towards the spiffed up man to better sort his words from the din of the party.
"Thank you, your Lordship. I fully intend to," Risani singsongs, throwing in a coy wink for good measure. "At your pleasure." Her walk backwards is a languid thing and she does not turn away from Borgol until she feels the transition under foot from metal to plascrete. Pivoting on the ball of her foot with a whirl, her circle-hemmed skirt a spinning dervish for the violence of the motion, she does not rush anywhere in particular just yet. A small vial is produced from a pouch at her hip. Pop! The stopper is hinged open and she dusts a pile of powder on to the crook of her other elevated hand. With a sharp snort, she inhales nearly all of it in a single go and tilts her head back as if to sneeze. Eyes fluttering, she shivers and wipes her nose off on the back of her disconnected sleeve. "Holy kriff. It's been a while."
[ Azeezel Raj (raj)]
When it is his turn to step forward, the Zeltron steps forward with a sort of glorious suave. He gestures to his armor, to himself, and he gives a sort of formal bow. "My Lord! Great Mighty Daimyo of Tatooine! I, am Azeezel Raj, Son of Zeltron, Son of the King of Songs!" He smiles. He grins. Standing tall again, and gesturing over the guests gathered towards Mollie, and the Mandalorians, "I come with my Captain, Crew and partners to this planet for the second time and it is my pleasure to present to you a gift; to show our congratulations on your ascension to this dais, and our appreciation for the order, opportunity and prosperity, you present."
A hand falls down towards his belt to draw forth not a bag full of chits, but rather to draw solid bars of - something. This held in both hands and held upwards towards Borgul.
[ Seren (Ser)]
<"Seren."> The Mandalorian answered in turn. After a moment, her helmed head nods in what appears to be agreement with the doctor. <"A reasonable assessment."> Since she did not appear as though she planned to remove her helmet any time soon, it became clear that the glass of water she held was purely for decoration. <"I certainly can't say I blame anyone for any one of those choices."> Seren then concluded, with the faintest trace of amusement within her voice. Her attention was currently on the latest supplicant to approach the Hutt.
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit looks waaay up at Fyrris, nodding, 'Bambloo!' he chitters, looking back to Brother Bizz, "ehaam eapeadaefa daevoogiw." he intones, patting his chest down a moment, bowing politely to Bizz. "tearh ghitiety ak! oowetus fadewaetoo ghevaethie aathygid, heazem fadewaetoo duphi hoomejaaph... oomapijyf ahimy hageav, tearh ivu rephiku hageav!" [Language: Jawa_Trade]
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin, not at all bothered by speaking to someone whose face she could not see, settled into a comfortable lean against the bar, which was long enough that there was no chance that she was taking up a space that someone else might want. "This is the way of most Hutts and their demesne. There is never action for action's sake. Everyone has an ulterior motive for being in their presence. Some are just better able to hide it than others." And then, after a sip of her water, "Are you familiar with the planet at all? Or simply here to see the sights?"
[ Merek (Black)]
Merek looks around and it what he came for isn't here. All the same he will perhaps think about speaking to the Hutt, but for the time being he doesn't, instead he comes up to Risani while she's snorting spice. He leans forward a little bit while he seems to consider, "Well, it's good to see you around," he takes off the helmet, his hair drawn back into that spiky ponytail which he's known for, while he takes the time to check on the spice, then samples it himself. He doesn't seem that bothered by it, cybernetics, natural willpower, it is like anything else to him. Then, he does another line, and another. "Whew." He takes out a flask of alcohol to drink with that.
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz does not understand a word that Uutkit the Jawa says but he pretends like he does. "Indeed! That is a good point." He cracks open the top on that bottle of boga noga ale and has a gulp. "Well I must be getting across the sands of Tatween before it gets too late. They say the sand apes of Tatween come out at night when the sun goes down." He places his simple sedge hat on his head and goes to waddle up the steps to his speeder.
[ Risani (Ris)]
All Risani can do is shriek as some orca-patterned humanoid sneaks up on her while her brain's busy trying to make heads or tails of the chemical firestorm being unleashed on its grey matter. Leaping back and to the side, she just manages to cover her face with both of her hands and suppress her shrieking before things started to get really crazy. From behind her finger-crafted mask, she leers with her gold-flecked eyes.
"What the kriff?! Don't sneak up on me!" Risani's words panicked but muffled for the lack of air flow in her tented fingers. Wheezing then, she breathes in rapid, heavy breaths that whine as if she's straining to oxygenate her blood. Fortunately, it didn't last long.
"Wait," Risani abruptly rights herself and squints, narrowing her eyes as if the more condensed field of view would let her pull details from Merek's presence more easily. "Why is your face all goopy like," she presses her hands up against her face but this time she just sort of smooshes things around, while her jaw is slackened to give it greater mobility. "Now it's all tiny." She laughs as a clarion, cloying thing. "Oh void, this stuff is farkled." Raising a finger to buy herself a second, she clarifies. "But in a good way."
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The departure of Risani is regarded with the detached interest of a god-king observing the affairs of some colony-based insect before the Hutt's focus shifts to regard the arrival of the Zeltron. There is a long moment that the Hutt's gaze shifts over the Zeltron, from head to toe. Then a long, salacious swipe of his tongue from the far right corner of his maw, all the way to the left. It's wet. It's slimy. It's audible. The artificial eye that burns golden in his scarred left socket? It doesn't blink. The natural golden right eye? It blinks. Or it winks. It's really difficult to tell. He's definitely staring at that Zeltron though, even as Azeezel lifts that bar high as though in supplication.
When the Hutt does finally begin to speak, it's only after his tongue has traveled back to the right corner of his mouth, and finally withdrawn back into the confines of his cavernous gullet. The translator is prompt in sharing the words of the Hutt Lord, "Lord Borgol compliments your choice in antique armor, but more than that he recognizes your prudent taste in gifts. Luxury goods and commodities are fantastic things to please an urge," the finely dressed human relays of the Hutt's words, "but credits? They possess a delightful tanginess that always satisfies. Your gift is well received and Lord Borgol invites you, your captain, and the rest of your crew to enjoy the hospitality of his palace for a day or two. That way perhaps you may speak further business."
[ Dhr'rall (dhr)]
There was some dark Togorian muttering from the creaking protesting seat Dhr'rall had found himself. Dhr'rall is tapping his finger claws onto a very battered datapad while shaking his massive head in the process. "Just one night, Dhr'rall would like break from Guild forms." Occasionally he's sipped at his bottle of brandy, glasses simply not more than shotglasss to the Togorian. A finally last harsh tap, and the datapad is tucked away into his utility harness.
Rising to stretch and twist, once again it is time to turn glowing eyes onto the rest of the guests first. Second it is the host that gets Dhr'rall's full attention. A final roll of his armored shoulder before stalking his way to the dias and Borgol speaking in slightly busted basic. "Dhr'rall of The Guild greets Borgol the Hutt." There is an incline of the head and a palm up gesture from the large clawed hand. "May there be mutual profit in the future for Borgol's business and Guild. Hutt presence on Tatooine should mean business, yes? Dhr'rall misses real hunting."
[ Teela Kloo (tk)]
Teela leans back in her seat and smirks across the table at Mollie, "He was certainly surprised." She comments of the Trandoshan, "I can clearly see the value of a good glass projectile, that's all I'm saying." Hands up for a brief moment so she can slap them down on the table with a look up at the multi-armed Fyrris. The smirk has not left her face, "No offense taken. It's hard to tell in armor and I don't exactly give off Princess in the other castle vibes."
There's plenty to keep a person occupied around the chamber. Teela for her part seems content for the little collection at the table around her, however. Periodically glancing out to other beings standing at the Hutts dias, it's a passing glance. There's plenty of people here that crossing the new Hutt Lord would prove plenty disasterous.
So she looks back up to Fyrris with a nod, "Absolutely, sure. Always looking for work. I'm assuming it involves hurting someone? Don't usually send Mandalorians to pick up the groceries unless you're expecting the cashier to get lippy."
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin nodded, as if Seren's comment made perfect sense. "That is usually the way in places like this. Unless you live here, it is not a place that holds much interest, so minds and eyes tend to wander, looking for entertainment and distraction where you can find it. And such an open house as this one put on by the Hutt Lord is certainly distracting." Another sip of water, as she watched the next to present gifts to the Hutt Lord, "I think there are more than a few that are hoping for the more violent entertainments that this palace was known for in days past."
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Amallia's attention has wandered away from the lovely conversation between herself and Teela and towards happenings between Borgol the Hutt and Azeezel the Zeltron. It's through no fault of Teela, either. It's entirely the fact that her kleptomaniac Zeltron is addressing the Hutt Lord -and- gesturing broadly enough to include her in the list of people he represents. Her lips thin and she swallows, lifting a hand to briefly finger-wiggle in the direction of Borgol and his entourage should they glance in her direction.
Thankfully, things appear to proceed smoothly. He is not dropped into the Rancor pit, and armed guards aren't pulling guns on her in this stylish but less-than-sensible dress. She exhales a sigh of relief and tips her head back, letting her attention wander back towards Teela with a soft smile.
She's re-joining a conversation and has lost context, so she does that little laugh and smile and nod of her head that people do when they're in this situation.
[ Merek (Black)]
Merek looks to the people gathering at the dais for presentation of gifts. His own isn't that much of note, but he pats his belt. It's all he has, checking the cask there while he waits. While in the meantime he is going to generally relax and enjoy the spice. He seems to be managing that high alright, while he takes a look to the feline, "You know, you're kinda... Not looking all that bad yourself."
The Knight takes the time to lift up his drink to take more, then he sighs while he watches the place, seeming to try to get whatever looks to be on his mind away. He coughs a bit into a hand and then he simply smacks Risani on the shoulder, "You know, you're my favorite person. I don't know why, but at the moment, ya." He then stands up and takes a look to people. "Good networking. I need to meet new people."
[ Uutkit (Uut)]
Uutkit sits quietly at his table with his fellow Jawas. They all appear to have begun some serious discussion, Uutkit moving salt and pepper shakers about, using bottles and cups to mark different things as he plans out some intricate way of capturing the salt shaker.
[ Fyrris (Fyr)]
"Oh well, more to make sure my dear Mollie keeps herself whole - so if someone is lippy with her, I'd hope you'd be among those to help rip it off." standing after his droid leans to murmur in his ear, "I have Captain Madine on a job upcoming, so please feel free to have discourse with her - but you've my endorsement, so I expect good things eh?"
Once at his feet, Fyrris's cane is in a brief, though less flourishing, twirl before striking the ground. "But for now I need to go attend to some very important business," drinking, "before I am headed back to Nar Shaddaa. I may even head to the capital to sample the local fare," see if there's anyone with low enough standards or drink enough to follow him 'home' for the evening, "and then head out before the time grows to late in the day, "get them off his ship and walk-of-shaming home before they realize they get a chance to learn his name. "So! I bid you lot a good day and hope it's just as fruitful!"
At least that last part is truth. Really.
And thus he did go forth, into the gloom and towards the exit - humming a happy little tune on his way with a droid at his flank again.
[ Azeezel Raj (raj)]
Still holding that glimmering bar up, partially covered by a simple cloth, Azeezel Raj keeps his head bowed as the words are bestowed on him. The bar is then set to the nearby droid, or servant, and the Zeltron stands tall again. Goatee and mustache twirled, his armored self, shined and presented to the Hutt Lord. "Glorious! I am happy to know His Greatness' pleasure." At the invite to the palace for -days-? Pleased. His crimson skin brightening to a vibrant red. He pauses, amber eyes catching golden eye - and Azeezel Raj pauses, momentarily entranced by that golden, cybernetic eye. Momentarily. Another moment. A third. Then the smile twitches, and Azeezel Raj simply bows again, backing away as the immense Togorian comes forth. Quickly then he'll make his way back to Mollie, Fyrris and others to drown his mouth in a drink.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]
Mollie turns her head towards Fyrris as he discusses her with Teela, a little laugh bubbling out of the pilot before she finishes off her lager. "Y'know I'm right here, Fyr-bear," she says, but he's saying nice stuff so she doesn't razz him too hard. She nods along in agreement with Fyrris' mention of the job and she lets out a soft 'ahhhh' after she finishes swallowing her beer. "Yessss, a job indeed. Somethin' about a spray on bandage. With those Sith nutjobs eating up all the bacta, I s'pose that sort of thing'll become more lucrative work. Though there are likely people that need it more than those paying such a tidy sum," she says, and then shrugs.
She'll burn that bridge when she gets there. Horrible smuggler, this one.
"Could always use more than one mando. Actually, we could chat now, if you'd like. We've left our pet Hapan on the Heliost and I'm afraid she might be rearranging the hyperdrive circuits. Or chewing through power cables. Can give you a lift back to Nar Shaddaa, if you'd like," Mollie suggests. She stands, smooths that pretty Hapan silk dress over the front and backs of her thighs, and then gestures for folks to follow her.
[ Seren (Ser)]
Seren nods, finally setting her water down upon the bar. There's a moment where she appears to just regard that glass of water for several long seconds as though debating whether or not it is worth removing her helmet to drink it yet. <"There are always those who seek entertainment through bloody means. Either directly, or vicariously."> There's no moralizing - just a statement of the way things are.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
There is a long, slow, and purposeful laugh that shakes the air around the Hutt in answer to Azeezel's words. Whatever the reason may be for that laughter though? An explanation is never presented. Only a nod is provided to the departing Zeltron as the Hutt's focus then shifts to regard Dhr'rall and at the mention of the Guild, the Hutt offers a bob of his broad head toward the Guild's Hunter. The rumble of the Hutt's voice is soon followed by the far gentler voice of the finely dressed human speaker, "Lord Borgol agrees with you, Dhr'rall of the Guild. He welcomes an esteemed member such as yourself and appreciates the increased security that the presence of someone such as yourself provides. For the right price, of course. Lord Borgol wills you to seek comforts in his home and enjoy your indulgence."
Following that exchange the Hutt provides the Togorian with a firm nod. Then his golden eyes, both natural and artificial, and moving onward to pluck a particular shape from among the gathering. The Hutt jabs a stubby finger in the direction of one suited in the iron skin of a Mandalorian and the Hutt Lord offers a harsh remark to a nearby slave who promptly begins to cross the chamber. Soon that slave moves to bow in the direction of both Doctor Tamsin Cas and the one called Seren. It is the latter that the slave carefully presents a chit toward with a deep bow of head and shoulders, the chit held up above their bowed head.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
"Truer words have rarely been spoken." Tamsin, finishing her water, set the glass back on the bar, "Another, if I might." If the water was free, Tamsin was sure as houses going to take advantage. She noted the departure of the large group, and the eager filling of the seats with even more coming to partake of the Hutt's hospitality. Keen eyes marked the slave approaching Seren. "It seems business is already afoot."
[ Risani (Ris)]
The Farghul certainly isn't immune to compliments in her newly drug-addled state, beaming for a handful of seconds with closed eyes, impish grin, and fingers laced over her lap. Then comes the shoulder slap and she's stunned sober. She freezes in place. Lips press flat. Eyes wide and disbelieving. Even her tail is an exclamation mark that punctuates the gravity of the thoughts flitting through her mind as if she were in a panel in a visual novel. "Are you... what the..." A hand lifts like a talon, palm directed at the ceiling, subtle muscles in her fingers spasming to lengthen her claws. "Are you high?!" She definitely is. Fortunately, her wrath is tempered as she finds herself quickly distracted.
That distraction is a hulking creature that could rival the Hutt's stature and furred to boot. It is likely the latter detail that more intrigues the Farghul. Like a curious child peering at someone different from behind the relative safety of a park's chain-link fence, she angles herself along the edge of the audience chamber to both find herself a beverage and to get a safe vantage at which to spy on the massive Togorian. Along the way, her hip bumps in to the good doctor Cas' table.
"Oopsies," Risani apologizes and turns to steady the piece of furniture. When she does, she blinks as recognition makes its slow crawl across her inebriated features. "Oh, it's you! The lady with the locked cabinets and the rude droid!"
[ Dhr'rall (dhr)]
A quick and curious look first at the backing away and departing Azeezel. "Dhr'rall appreciates -Lord- Borgol's welcome." Dhr'rall addresses his accidental omission of title earlier then and there. "Lord is great host indeed. Dhr'rall certainly available for correct credit or fair trade amount." Dhr'rall inclines his head, and clearly has a little difficulty getting used to looking UP at someone, platform or not. "Dhr'rall will keep in touch, enjoy stay, survey surroundings for some time." It's not a direct acknowledgement he'll put in some immediate security work, but definitely not a denial either. There is an awkward forward bow from the monster felinid.
Dhr'rall takes three large steps backwards, inclines his head once more before choosing to strike off in a new direction. Such as the Farghul and company while cocking his head to one side quizzically. Dhr'rall takes great care not to carelessly knock over things with his hanging arms, or trample smaller sentients in his path.
[ Seren (Ser)]
<"Do you recognize that figure?"> Seren asked Tamsin, clearly completley ignorant of who it was before the Hutt lord at the moment. Indeed, it is entirely likely that she is a stranger to most, if not everyone within the room. It was by chance that she had Tamsin had struck up a conversation.
[ Hahtavi Kora (Haht)]
The place got pretty crowded there for a while. A certain Mandalorian drifted out so he could focus on replying to several messages that came through his datapad and helmet coms. The Bounty Hunter slipped out to the landing pad to deal with that business for a while.
Eventually bounty hunter clad in the heavy black battle armor returns. Hahtavi resumes his seat at the same table Teela and he had been sharing most of the evening with others. A bottle of whiskey is snagged as he passes through and set upon his table. A new glass as well, which he fills.
Settled in, the Mandalorian scans those who are still gathered, or have since arrived, to pay their respects to the new Daimyo of Jabba the Hutt's former territory.
[ Merek (Black)]
Merek looks then to Risani and seems to consider it for a moment, while he nods to her. He doesn't have a lot to say, and it looks like there might not be the needed moment to offer his own presentation to that Hutt. Instead he kind of walks along forward with his thick stubble scratched by a hand in thought. He puts on the visor with him and takes the time to check it, while he comes to where the two feline humanoids and anyone else gathering are. He does notice that there is still a Mandalorian it looks like, then he looks to Tamsin and Seren and anyone else that would be about.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Tamsin frowned, as she watched the petitioners, "The Zeltron is named...Azeezel Raj. The Togorian I have seen on Nar Shaddaa, but I am not certain that I know his name. I believe he is a bounty hunter, though, if what I recall is correct." As Hahtavi returned, Tamsin nodded in his direction, "As is that mandalorian. Hahtavi Kora. A good man." Which was not always the same as a good mandalorian. As Risana turned her spice-added eyes towards her, Tamsin nodded, "Well, I am not certain my droid was rude, but I am she of the locked cabinets." The black and white armored man's gaze was noted, but as he was not moving in her direction, Tamsin did not remark on it.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
"Lord Borgol looks forward to your continued formidable presence, Dhr'rall of the Guild," the translator conveys of the Hutt's spoken Huttese. The Hutt Lord soon begins to turn his attention away from the latest guest to stand before his dais. A stubby hand moves to his left to collect a three-eyed gorg from the small aquarium that resides there. It squeels. Then it crunches when the Hutt's mouth clamps down upon its head. Then it's fed carefully into his maw, the snapping of cartilage heard as it's gradually shoved deeper and deeper beyond the wide maw of the Hutt Lord's face. It's time for the Lord of Tatooine to indulge in his own bit of indulgence while he's not committing his time and energy to meeting old associates and new acquaintances.
