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Aphelion and the "Bad Feeling About This"
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| Mara_Antares | Date: Friday, 03 Jun 2011, 3:08 AM | Message # 16 |
 Sergeant
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| Mara would pause in step when Percy started to stammer about where he got his jacket, and she glanced over her shoulder. "Come on Perce....you can take me tomorrow and show me the dress." It amused her to a point to make him turn red like that, bless his little heart. She turned her attention back to Davon for a moment and she smirked. Part of the little subtle display and flirtation was to get back at him. He had no idea the pangs of jealousy she felt, but never showed when he dragged floozy after floozy past her room in the evenings. Part of her was surprised, after seeing some of them, that the navigator wasn't constantly on IV antibiotics to kill any form of disease that may have crept in. The other part of her knew that while Davon might have been a bit of a womanizer at times, he wasn't stupid and he was likely safe about the whole thing.
Nevertheless, she would grab his arm and slide hers into it, linking the two together. And that was when they would hear Ransom. "Sounds great...bar fight and jail tonight, huh?" She joked, though only low enough for Davon to hear her. "It would do you good to get off of the ship anyway, Ransom...." Mara yelled back to him, before she just kept walking along.
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| Davon_Vanden | Date: Friday, 03 Jun 2011, 4:24 AM | Message # 17 |
 Lieutenant colonel
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| There was an unspoken rule that only took effect whenever the Aphelion made port on Triple Zero; and the rule was quite easy to remember: Ransom stays on the ship, all the time, no matter what. They could be dying the most painful deaths imaginable, and Ransom would still have to stay on the ship. The reason being that Ransom had more warrants for his arrest than a Twi'lek Cantina Dancer had STD's; and were he asked, Dav could have confirmed that they do, in fact, have an astonishingly high amount. Safety wasn't exactly his middle name - that was Lawrence - and on more than one occasion Vanden had found himself in a clinic waiting to hear yet another second or third opinion on a rash or discoloration of sorts, hell in one month alone he'd spent close to his entire monthly share simply on antibiotics. But he'd be damned if he didn't live the life many dream of, but very few ever truly achieved. At any rate, Leroy seemed dead set on getting some much-needed sunlight, and while Dav wasn't in any sort of position to stop him, he couldn't help but find himself praying to a God he had no idea existed that they escape Coruscant with all their limbs still attached to their bodies.
Snaking a wiry arm into Mara's, Dav found that keeping pace with her was much, much simpler than keeping pace with the surprisingly long-striding Captain; and he couldn't help but crane his head and flash Percy a wink, not so much to gloat (Percy's feelings for Mara was occasionally the topic of conversation when he wasn't around), but simply to acknowledge that he knew all-too-well the effect this woman had on them. Mara's little jab redirected his attention, and Dav flashed her one of his trademark grins. "A two-fer... haven't had one of those since Bakura." His gaze returned once again to the street, constantly aware for the Imperial patrol or the leery passerby; even with Ransom's ridiculous disguise, having the psychopath with them would most certainly be cause to have their guard up at all times. Stopping for a moment, Dav found himself having a momentary flash of courage, and dared to put hands on the mercenary, and by "put hands on" he really meant "inspect his lovely hat". Another grin, and Vanden patted Ransom on the shoulder. "Sweet getup, Leroy, you don't look conspicuous at all."
Davon "Booster" Vanden - Big Damn Hero.
For what avail the plough or sail, or land or life, if freedom fail? ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Theme ~ Wanted - Bon Jovi
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| Percy_Windsor | Date: Tuesday, 07 Jun 2011, 3:35 PM | Message # 18 |
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Private
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| At first Percy was content to brush off his ineptitude, Mara seemed almost charmed by his awkwardness towards her and Davon humored by it. It did not even bother Percy – at least outwardly – that he was the butt of many a joke on the ship; of course privately it ate at him that he could not be more normal, at least around women. At first Percy decided to just shut his mouth and follow along in their wake in hopes – yet again – of finding some opening during which he could make himself look less of a fool than normal.
That was until he heard the voice of Ransom.
Percy stopped dead in his tracks, comic book held limply and backpack now seated on the ground. Davon was one thing, him he could handle and indeed almost felt somewhat big-brotherly towards even though the navigator certainly had more life experience, at least in some areas. Ransom was another matter entirely. It was not as if Percy disliked the guy; he felt, more or less, towards him just like he did the rest of the crew; Percy would die for him and felt that the hulking man would do the same for him. Percy did not dislike him, he disliked being around him.
“Oh...” he said uncertainly. “You guys go on really, I...uhhh...I've got a few things that need checked on before we have to blast out of here.” By that he meant 'before Ransom did something that cause him, Davon, and Mara to be chased back to the ship by armed men'. Really he just didn't feel like jail tonight.
Then he noticed that his bag was on the ground. With a startled yelp he jerked it up and began furiously beating the dust off it.
Percival Hiram Windsor
Ex-Pilot; Aphelion
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| Mara_Antares | Date: Wednesday, 15 Jun 2011, 7:34 PM | Message # 19 |
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Sergeant
Group: Users
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| Since 'Leroy' had amazingly not spoken up, Mara paused in her step, effectively jerking Davon to a halt with no warning what so ever. "Percy, are you sure?" She nearly pouted as she gazed at the pilot, though she did understand why he was hesitating. A trip out with Ransom generally never ended well, and with the sportin' new pimp suit he wore, it was likely to not go any better this time. Still, she and Dav would have a good time, despite that.
The pilot, aside from his nervous quirks, had a special place in Mara's heart (that little flap that opened and closed with each beat, to be specific). But she wouldn't push him to come with them if she didn't want. "But if you won't come...maybe you could pick a comic for me to read when we are leavin', k?" The last one she had picked up, something he had left laying in the lounge, was actually enjoyable. Well, enjoyable compared to the screeching and ruckus that was being caused elsewhere on the ship by the 'big, damn hero in goggles that was standing just to the side of Davon and Mara like some sort of clay statue.
Her gaze went back to Davon for only a moment. "Alright, lets go then...." She murmured.
Message edited by Mara_Antares - Wednesday, 15 Jun 2011, 7:48 PM |
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| Davon_Vanden | Date: Saturday, 25 Jun 2011, 6:32 PM | Message # 20 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 100
Status: Offline
| Ah, the Shifty Jawa; as far as your run-of-the-mill dive bars went, it was about as dilapidated and, frankly depressing, as it got. Tucked into a forgotten corner of the small strip adjacent to the spaceport, it had earned a reputation for having the largest amount of public intoxication and assault incidents in the Slums District; the perfect spot for such unsavory characters as the Aphelion's crew to kick back, perhaps even partake in a shootout. Davon himself was a regular here, at least, he had been in the past; as soon as Ransom signed on and started cracking heads the Captain had chosen to avoid Imperial Center with greater frequency, the very fact that they'd returned creased Dav's lips in a wry grin. The cantina itself wasn't as busy as he remembered; but the heavenly scent of tobacco and onion was as fresh in his memory as it was two years ago. Sidling past an exiting Nikto, Vanden's emerald eyes almost threatened to spill sweet tears all over the grease-slicked floor; and with a satisfying inhalation of smoke and booze vapor, he turned to Mara and smiled. "The prodigal son returns..."
Brushing the dust off his blazer, his eyes scanned the bar and the adjacent collection of tables; though he took special care to avoid making eye contact with any of the other drunkards, especially the nasty-looking Barabel seated in the back. There, a fairly-clean booth on the far wall, in sight of the doorway but ensuring that no-one put a blaster to their collective backs. Nudging Ransom, he motioned for the two of them to grab the booth before it was occupied, and Dav ambled his way over to the bar, propping one leg up on the railing below it and cocking one of his trademark smiles at the bartender, a delightfully-attractive Togruta named Shaira, whose cognac eyes widened in (hopefully) pleasant surprise at the sight that greeted her now.
"Red! Oh my l- what are you doing back here!?"
This was his element, his home away from home, and Vanden was damn glad to be back. "Came to see how my favorite bartender was doing, obviously, and be still my beating heart..." She smirked in response, leaning over the bar and bringing him within punching distance. "Don't even think about it." Admonished, he decided to play the joker and stepped back from the bar, hands flying up apologetically. "This is the reception I get after two years? And here I thought this was our thing."
This time she laughed, waving him off and straightening herself out. "No thing will ever be our thing, Red. Just tell me what your poison is tonight." So much for rekindling old flames, last time they'd parted ways Shaira had propositioned him with an offer that was too-tempting to refuse, only for Ransom to bust into Dav's quarters mid-deed and throw her off the ship. Such a shame, and here he thought he might get lucky tonight. "Three juri juices on that table-", he pointed in Ransom and Mara's direction, "-and keep 'em comin', would you babe?" Scowling again, she set about preparing the order, casting one final glance in his companion's direction. "She's pretty, Red, you really outdid yourself this time."
Perplexed, he permitted himself a quick double-take and then ran a hand through coarse red locks. "Mara? She's just a friend, 'sides, there's already someone I've got eyes on." One final try, though the look in her eyes told him it was never happening, and he offered a resigned sigh and flipped a credit chit onto the counter. "Always a pleasure, Shaira."Added (25 Jun 2011, 7:32 PM)
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And then Ransom went to the bathroom; while a certain smuggler captain was bound to walk through the door any minute...
Davon "Booster" Vanden - Big Damn Hero.
For what avail the plough or sail, or land or life, if freedom fail? ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Theme ~ Wanted - Bon Jovi
Message edited by Davon_Vanden - Wednesday, 15 Jun 2011, 11:08 PM |
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| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Saturday, 02 Jul 2011, 3:12 PM | Message # 21 |
 Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 38
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| Rawls wasn't quite as sentimental for this place as Davon was. He didn't deny that greasy floors and the smell of death inchoate had a certain panache, of course, but the Captain was reaching an age when places like this, and even sultry bartendresses like Shaira, blended together in his memory with tens of other bars and bartendresses on as many worlds. Still, Shaira was a cut above in both class and wit, and Rawls did remember her. Just not her name. She remembered him, though. "And there's the old man," she said as he approached the bar, distracting him from glancing about the room in search of Davon, Mara, and Ransom, who had apparently gone with them. It wasn't the first time he'd defied common sense, and wouldn't be the last. But Rawls wasn't upset with him, really—there's no sense being mad at an akk dog for killing things and scratching itself. He wasn't mad at Doohan either, really. Ransom was frustrating after all, and with Doohan as stubborn as he was it was inevitable they would clash now and then. What began as an argument with the mechanic ended up as a commiseration about Ransom's foibles, and both of them forgot what all the fuss was about. But oh well, all that was said and done, and now Rawls needed a drink more than before.
"Isn't it your nap time, gramps?" Shaira added.
Rawls settled heavily at the bar and shook his head. He resisted the temptation of making a witty retort, and dug his flask out of his jacket pocket instead. "Fill her up, will you? My usual. And I'll have a glass of it with soda too, huh?" She did her thing, and Rawls watched her for a moment before shifting in his seat to face the rest of the room, his elbows on the bar. He scanned it as he tended to out of habit, looking for anyone who looked like the law or, worse, a bounty hunter. Either one would be a disaster as far as Ransom was concerned, but he didn't see Ransom at the moment as his gaze fell, at last, upon Mara and Davon. He nodded to them, stood, and made his way over to their table.
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion
Smuggler, Scoundrel (occasional "Baron")
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| Davon_Vanden | Date: Thursday, 07 Jul 2011, 8:49 PM | Message # 22 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 100
Status: Offline
| (( Jess, dear, it's your post. ))
Davon "Booster" Vanden - Big Damn Hero.
For what avail the plough or sail, or land or life, if freedom fail? ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Theme ~ Wanted - Bon Jovi
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| Mara_Antares | Date: Friday, 08 Jul 2011, 6:18 PM | Message # 23 |
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Sergeant
Group: Users
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| Ransom had amused Mara, simply by his sitting there and looking like a total goofball all bundled up. It wasn't like he had a sister on Coruscant that was ISB or anything. Well, he might have, but she never took the time to ask. She, however, did have a sister who was an Imp. Mara hadn't seen Mira in years, not since Mara left home. She had only heard her sisters name on the news, and from her Uncle once. Unlike Ransom, Mara wasn't worried about running into someone she'd rather not see. Mira was too "high-class" for an establishment like the Shifty Jawa.
When Ransom vanished to the bathroom, Mara's gaze trailed around the crowded cantina for a moment before Davon sauntered up. "You know, I really am not sure who Ransom is going to fool in that getup. He sticks out like a sore thumb." She smirked and slid the glass that Davon had set down a little closer to her.
Her gaze fell on Davon for a moment. She bit the inside of her lip lightly, a nervous habit, and then broke her gaze just before Rawls arrived. "Everything alright back on the ship?" She asked, though she was cautiously optimistic about anything really being "alright" with that crew. So far, she hadn't really seen any potential passengers, but once she got a drink in her, she would just venture out and start talking to people.
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| Lafayette_Ransom | Date: Sunday, 10 Jul 2011, 9:45 PM | Message # 24 |
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Private
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| By the time he finished in the bathroom, Rawls was entering the bar, and he headed for the booth. He was noticeably absent of his disguise, now that they were safely in the bar and thus free of Coruscant's ever present and constant security camera system. As long as he wasn't ID'd he would be fine... and he trusted the individuals in here. If he could remember correctly, it was a bar tended to by smugglers and pilots, whom often outnumbered, and stuck together against, any bounty hunter that came into the bar. It was, unfortunately in this case, a slow night. He would be, of course, carrying several weapons which were openly displayed on his usual clothing of a sleeveless bomber jacket, cargo pants, and combat boots.
He strode to the table and sat down as Mara finished her speech to Vanden and Rawls. "It may not fool anyone in person, but its enough to fool the CC cameras that sit in the streets between here and the hangar. Those are the only reason Windsor wasn't thrown over my shoulder and forcibly carried here." he said, without second thought about earlier. It happened, and he would be unwilling to revisit as Rawls seems to be okay right now about it. Maybe words would be said later, but he had cooled by the time they reached the bar, and forgot the reason for the fight even breaking out, as Doohan probably had too. He proceeded to down his drink, and was ready for the second round more than likely before anyone had spoken again.
Lafayette Leroy Jackson Ransom
Formerly "Public Relations" and Gunsmith of the Aphelion
Bounty Hunter and Mercenary
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| Davon_Vanden | Date: Wednesday, 13 Jul 2011, 9:28 AM | Message # 25 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 100
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| As the group continued to assemble, Dav had been nursing the shot he'd ordered and simply observing the various bar patrons. The Barabel opposite them had cast him a few... he would have described them as hungry glances; but perhaps that was simply because Vanden insisted on staring. Barabels and Trandoshans - as a child he mixed them up quite often - he generally associated them both with ravenous lizard men who would rather put a blade between your eyes than make pleasant conversation. Shakily, he offered the alien a grim smile and turned his attention elsewhere; his ears picking up the soft undertones of a holonet newscast beneath the din of idle conversation and the cantina band.
"Mercutio replaces the long-serving Sio Bibble, who presided as Governor of Naboo and head of the planet's Royal Advisory Council during the Trade Federation's invasion of the planet and, later, the Clone Wars. Bibble was a respected elder statesman, and was considered a tireless advocate for the people of Naboo. He died last month of natural causes. Artemis Vanden, the Senator of Naboo, issued a statement today congratulating Mercutio and "wishing him the best of luck in filling the shoes of Sio Bibble, a towering figure in Naboo politics, a poet, a philosopher, and a personal friend."
The mention of his father's name was what had caught his interest. He wouldn't admit it, but despite the hostile terms on which they'd parted, he still kept up on his father's activities once in a while. It wasn't that he hated the man; they were just never compatible as father and son, doubly so once Davon's mother passed away. Rawls' appearance at the table drew Vanden back into the present; and the navigator slid a glass in the Captain's direction and kicked his booted feet up on the table. "I see Shaira rebuffed you too, Cap'n."
Davon "Booster" Vanden - Big Damn Hero.
For what avail the plough or sail, or land or life, if freedom fail? ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Theme ~ Wanted - Bon Jovi
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