Crew Lounge.   Posted by Narrator.Group: 0
 GM, 33 posts
Tue 19 Aug 2014
at 21:01
Crew Lounge
This is an in game thread for players to dialogue with other players, swap stories, histories, backgrounds, or whatever. It will be assumed that these dialogues take place 'behind the scenes' during character downtime (during long voyages, between jobs, etc). Remember that it is an in game thread so please post out of character content in the OoC thread.
 player, 22 posts
 Ryn Male
 Follow the candy!
Tue 19 Aug 2014
at 22:21
Re: Crew Lounge
"Fine, fine. I'll go first" He said melodically as he slipped into a seat at the table. A small knife appeared in one hand and he started to peel one of the fresh fruits they had picked up just before their hurried departure.
"Back in the day, when I was procuring obscure items for the lofty minded, I used to fly with a crew under Mugg Ugrr. We were helping to relocate a batch of Damotite. This was back when it was worth it to transport Damotite. So here we are enjoying a few hours of relaxation in the warmth of a growing sun. Nibbling on the fresh shoots harvested only minutes before. When out of no where comes the Ree shows up cuffs us all and drags us back to their headquarters on the planet. They've got our entire cargo there and are poking through it all. I tell you I thought we were done for."
He pauses and slices off a wedge of the fruit. He gives a quick look at each person in his audience before popping the fruit chunk into his mouth. He swallows and continues.
"Then Mugg looks over at me and says. 'Professor, would you please explain to these fine folks the difference between smugglers and art dealers?'
Now I have no idea what freck he's talking about. As far as I know we're about one crate opening away from being shipped to kessel. So anyway, I perk up and say, 'why yes, indeed. We seem to have been mistaken for common criminals when in actuality I am Prof. Brof Splitzen from the Alderaanian Duo academy of Historic Occupational Compassion.' and just as I've said this the first crate gets opened up and all our contraband is sitting there in these beautiful sculptures, all flowing and aquatic. So I carry on. 'These are replicas of the ancient Mon Cal artist Sashimimoto we are distributing them to the less fortunate. Or at least we would be if we weren't being held with such indignity."

And do you know what happened? They actually bought it. Sure enough the apologized and released us. Then they made a donation to the cause as an apology for the delay. I was sure they were going to figure it out when they handed a credstick over to Prof. BS of ADHOC."

He leans back in his chair then and takes a big bite of his fruit.

"Turned out the statues were made of the Damotite, and going to be melted down by the folks we were shipping them to.

Who's next?"

 player, 4 posts
Wed 20 Aug 2014
at 06:06
Re: Crew Lounge
Selina stands with her back to a wall several feet from the table as she listens impassively to Phyrat tell his anecdote.  Her eyes are alert and her arms crossed, even within the safety of the crew lounge, and it's hard not to notice the rather large weapon attached to her right hip.  As Phyrat finishes his story, she steps closer to the table to say her piece.

"I used to be a bounty hunter," she begins, her voice guarded.  "The career has its moments.  Sometimes it can be pretty boring, just trying to locate a target.  But other times, things can get pretty exciting, like when someone decides not to surrender peacefully.  That's when I learned the value of having this around."  She pats on the large gun by her side.

Her voice begins to get more animated.  "One particularly exciting job was when a client send me after a business rival of his, conveniently neglecting to mention that the target he sent me after had a whole contingent of disguised bodyguards.  Got into a huge firefight and had to use everything I had with me just to get out alive.  Every last grenade, all my spare power packs, heck, even used up every single shot my backup pistol would spit out after running out of juice for my big gun.  Funny end to the story, though.  The target I was after ended up offering me double the original bounty to turn the tables on the original client, which I was happy to collect after the bad intel almost cost me my neck."  She smiles wistfully.  "Those were the days."

It takes a moment for her to snap out of her brief reverie.  "But that's all in the past.  I gave it all up because of, um, the increasing competition."  She suddenly stops talking and looks around uncomfortably.
 player, 10 posts
 Race Unknown
Thu 21 Aug 2014
at 20:16
Re: Crew Lounge

A large, bipedal creature, about 2.5 meters tall walked past the lounge from the fresher station back to engineering. His bulky thick white fur and four eyes marked him as a alien out right but the green back-lit mechanical interface visor made him seem even a bit more alien.

Never one to talk much, Shirin walked by Phyrat and Selina.  He stopped mid stride, looked up as if in thought, and issued a high-pitched chirp followed by a few buzzes from his small proboscis that served as his mouth.

Obviously he was talking to himself again, like he did more often then naught.  Communication only went so far when the only way he could talk to someone was trough a keypad or a protocol droid.  Even then, he had to program the protocol droid to understand his spoken alien language.  It was funny because the units would say that even then it sounded like he had a lisp.

One could only guess as to why he was on the ship, no one cared enough to try to approach him.  Shirin's extremely large hands, sporting a set of sharp-clawed talons usually kept interested persons at bay.

The purple skirt with blue stripes helped him fit in as a cultured race and not a creature, but his lack of ability to communicate with the rest of the crew kept him at a distance.  As long as he kept the tech working, and the ship moving who really cared.
Trrav Kurst
 player, 8 posts
Wed 26 Nov 2014
at 00:51
Re: Crew Lounge
Sitting facing the doors more out of habit than concern Trrav leans over the over-sized barrel of his bryar rifle and polishes it with fluid, careful strokes. Those who wander near may hear faint vibrations and clicks emanating from the Gand's maw as he slowly works the barrel to a dull shine. Alien sounding to those used to more human mannerisms, the pattern of the sounds being in concert to his strokes may give hint to the observant that the Gand is humming while he works, though even spacers unfamiliar with Gand facial expressions may gather from the slow, steady flex and release of his mouth mandibles that Trrav's attention seems unusually rapt for such a mundane task...