milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Um...excuse me? If I could have everyone's attention for a minute."

The hustle and bustle of the bar continues a pace, as if he'd said nothing at all.

"Hello? Can I have your attention, please."

Still nothing. There are drinks being drunk and foods being eaten and hub-bubs to bub.

"Okay...that's it."

A near ear piercing whistle makes it's way through the din. You'd almost expect a fleet of taxis to pull up along side the dirty-blonde haired man standing behind Bar. After all, that's what whistles like that are cultivated for in the first place.

"Thank you. Uh,...I guess I have an announcement to make. Um...first things first. Apologies to those who've had questionable...uh...bar-fare in the last couple of days. There's a refund coming your way if you were inconvenienced in any way. It's been a rough week of transition for everyone involved, and we appreciate your patience.

This brings me to my second point, um...for the time being...."

At this turn of phrase he winces slightly, as if someone had just poked him rather hard in the brain.

"...I will be assuming the role of Head Barman. So uh...yeah. If you've got any concerns, let me know I'll do what I can. If you have any complaints...please keep in mind that I am a highly trained ninja that can kill you in your sleep.

Okay with that said...the Bar is open."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Eh, sithspit, cold. It's warm enough outside that I think it merits it."

"Okay. Cold. Cold is good. We can work with cold. Next question. Sweet or spicy?"

"I'd put you up for a medal if you could find a way to do both, but given the choice, sweet."

"You know, I could use a medal. If for nothing else than to say I've gotten a medal."

Mike ponders for a second.

"How about a spicy buttery nipple on ice?"

Corran shrugs. "Hey, sure, let's give it a shot--long as it won't kill me," he smirks.

"Oh I can't go making promises like that. I mean, where would I be if you died? Full of broken promises, that's what!"

See, he says that, but he makes the drink just the same.

1 Bowl of ice.
1 Shot glass nestled in ice.
1/3 oz Hot Damn (whatever that is)
1/3 oz Butterscotch schnapps
1/3 oz Bailey's irish cream

Mike watches the concoction in the glass on it's bed of ice for a long while.

"You don't think it'll explode...do you?"

Watching just as carefully, Corran hesitates before answering. "Could be. Better drink it now to prevent it from doing so."

Pause.

"Let's just hope the acid in my stomach doesn't set it off," he says, picking up the glass and continuing to stare.

Pause.

Corran finally shrugs, "A Jedi has no fear... Bottoms up!", and slugs the drink.

Blink. Blink. "Heeeeeeyyyyyyy... Not bad. Smooth, with a kick. Thanks... what was your name?"

"Mike. And you aaaaaaaaaaare?"

He said Jedi. He totally said Jedi. JEDI!

"Name's Corran Horn. Nice to meet you." He reaches a hand across the bar to shake hands--and in doing so, Mike MIGHT have caught a glimpse of a lightsaber.

If he was looking for it.

Which he mighta been.

Oh he did. Goodness gracious he so did.
Mike shakes the man's hand, and opens his mouth to respond with some sort of pithy greeting,...but nothing comes out of his mouth.

"...Caaaan III help you? Or are you trying to signal a food tip? I can't cook very well, so I'll just advise you against ever ordering gornt..." Corran looks a little perplexed, but also somewhat amused.

OK, so a lot perplexed.

"You...with the...thing...the thing...with the woooomch-wooooomch"

Oh poor Mike. Poor poor Mike."

Corran stops.

Staaaaaaaares.

And cracks up.

Unclipping his saber, he sets it on the bar and waves his hand at it. "You mean this? Yeah, 's me." And he hasn't even gotten to the pilot part yet...

Oh, this is going to be fun. Poor, Poor Mike indeed!

"wooooooow."

Do they even have candy stores where Corran's from? If he doesn't know what a kid looks like in one, he does now.

Oh, they do. They doooooooo...

"Y'know, you folks always do seem to light up when the word 'Jedi' or 'lightsaber' is mentioned..."

"Well can you blame them?"

"....No, not really. Even I was starstruck when I was first asked to become one, finding out my grandfather had been trained as a Jedi. But still... come on! I've met at least a half a dozen other Jedi around here, and even more of us pilots..." He shakes his head. "You'd just think people might have gotten used to it by now."

Pause. "Where're you from, by the way?"

"A galaxy far far away...."

Mike says with nothing but awe in his voice.

"I'm gonna take that to mean Earth. I've heard a couple jokes about 'galaxies far far away' to miss that one..." He shakes his head.

"And honestly? With everyone in here from Earth, I'm almost as in awe of you. Least you know where these folks are talking about." Shrug. "I'd trade a trip to Coruscant for one to Earth any day."

Long as I can get Mirax in here with me...

"There wheres may sound the same, but trust me...the hows and whens are all messed up depending on where you go.

...

If you want to go so bad, why don't you just get someone to open the door for you?"

He hesitates. "Honestly? I'm waiting. Never quite ready to go when I come through the door."