RPlog:Meeting With Sinjon Teague

You step between the pair of bouncers and enter Keepon Casino.  Level 4 -Keepon Casino-

For many beings, even tall ones, the only reminder this vast room gives of  having a ceiling is the three large chandeliers which descend from the lofty roof to illuminate a virtual nebula of color and riches below. Crystal-distorted light casts a hazy glow over the casino, the rich midnight blue and gold trims of the decor giving the establishment the clandestine air of forbidden evenings and half-dreams. A clear aisle from the door sweeps a deep blue path to the bar against the far wall; islands of sabacc tables to the left of the entrance, a smooth near-reflecting black dance floor to the right, and a wide raised dais in the far right corner which bears tables for dining. Odd movement against the wall behind the draws patrons' attentions, for the entire wall, up to two meters, is one large mirror; but not quite, as odd ghost images waft across its surface which have no real origin in the room. The bar, presiding from the back, is long and of a deep real wood, graceful stools before, and one of the largest collections of drinks behind, rising like steppes behind three hard-working human bartenders. The dance of the Sabacc cards, the disturbing and distracting images on the mirror Wall, the elegantly dressed patrons and the dancers on an ebony field give the Keepon Casino a near mythical, ephemeral quality.

 -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Sinjon_Teague => Slot Machine => Jedi Duel Machine -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-

Sitting at the bar is a Mashi Horansi reading a well worm book. The cover reads, "Ithorian myths and religious ceremonies". The Horansi seems quite engrossed in the book and seems to be paying little attention to the crowds of people milling around as well as the sounds of slot machines whirling. On  the bar next to this individual is a teapot containing a steaming brew of   some sort, a mug filled with the beverage and a large plate of food. The plate contains a variety of cheeses, fruits, breads and meats.

Stepping into the casino, Paul surrenders his weapons a touch reluctantly, the tall dark woman at his side seemingly unarmed. There is a subtle nudge from her, and Paul steps down and into the Casino. He glances over his shoulder, but the woman jerks her chin over toward a table, her eyes angry.

A line of Twi'lek chorus girls is reflected in the wall, running through the room.

Sinjon_Teague dips a spoon into the small jar next to the teapot and pulls out a large dollop of honey and puts it into his mug, stirring it about. He  looks up from his book at the two individuals who have walked into the casino.

Sinjon_Teague looks at you for a moment.

The woman, who is surprisingly taller than the Corellian she walked in with, places a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down into a seat. Paul looks decidedly uncomfortable, and laying his hands in a placating gesture, flat on the table, he murmurs, "Is there a problem?" The woman's eyes narrow and nodding she rasps huskily, "Yes ... where -were- you?" Paul swallows, blinking, but calmly replies, "Ah, I got sort of held up ..."

Sinjon_Teague peers over his book at the pair seated not too far from him having a rather, intense discussion. He picks up his mug and takes a long sip allowing him to take a good look at them.

The reflection of Paul_Nighman in the mirror suddenly pixelizes and flies apart, only to reassemble again.

"Unless it was at blaster point, that doesn't cut it ..." the woman purrs. Her hand reaches down, turning Paul's chin in her grip. There is clearly something strange about the woman ... and perhaps only a few people might realize from her build, coloring, and slight accent, that she is from Anthar ... an outer rim planet where the humanoids are tough enough to wrestle with Wookiees ... and win on occasion. Paul's eyes narrow, and his lips thin at her gesture. Despite her obvious strength, he jerks his head back, standing up  abruptly and snapping, "Te rethka! Ne chut aren tay!" The woman withdraws her hand, smiling a touch cruelly, her eyes glittering with interest. "De  naya," she replies, turning away from the Corellian. She begins to leave, but turns her head back and in a firm tone that brooks no argument, she warns, "Sarth kaya ...." and then carries herself up and out of the Casino. The Corellian takes a deep breath, blinking, before making a line straight for the bar.

Sinjon_Teague quickly places his gaze back into his book trying to appear nonchalant. He slips his gaze back towards the woman as she exits and watches as Paul heads towards the bar.

Finding a seat not too far off from the book bound Horansi, Paul rubs a tired hand across his brow, frowning slightly as he feels a tremor in it. Making a  fist, he sets it on the bar, and catching the keep's attention, murmurs, "Usual." The tender recognizes him from the other night, and nods, pouring a  glass of Corellian brandy.

Sinjon_Teague sets his book down, the cover showing. He takes a long drink of  tea then sets the mug down. He picks up the pot and pours a steaming mug, the minty aroma filling the air near him. Sinjon watches the Corellian as he  his drink is placed in front of him and he takes a healthy sip.

Ariana steps out of a spot of bad lighting by a wall panel. Ariana has arrived.

That sip seems to settle the man somewhat, his hand steady as the glass connects with the bar once again. Taking a deep breath, he cannot help but gaze over at the book ... the -actual- book. Most people just read holodiscs or datapads ... in fact Paul cannot recall the last time he saw anyone reading a book ... other than himself. The title makes one brow raise in  curiosity, but also brings a frown to his lips.

Ariana slips out of the darkened area near the back of the casino; the moment she steps into a moderately lit area, tiny rainbow sparkles dance about her as if she were surrounded by fireflies. After her cursory look around, she wends her way into the collections of patrons, smiling coolly and greeting a  few by name.

According to the mirror wall, Sinjon_Teague is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion.

Sinjon: Sinjon is a Mashi Horansi who stands about six feet in height. His most notable feature is his eyes, which are a light grass green in color with pale yellow gold ringing the pupil. His fur is a rich onyx color and as  he shifts, the light plays across the black spots that cover him. Sinjon's  muzzle is coal black but is beginning to show hints of lightening around the edges. Sinjon's build is muscular and he carries himself with a graceful air.

He is dressed in a cream colored robe with the hood pulled back, showing his prominent features. He is wearing a pair of well-worn black knee length moccasins. Multiple silver hoop earrings dangle from his triangular ears. A fine silver chain connects two on his right ear. As he smiles you notice that his left incisor is inset with a small emerald mounted in a  platinum base that stands out against the whiteness of his teeth. Around his waist is a black belt that has multitude of pouches in different colors and sizes. You also note a shiny cylindrical object hanging from the belt as  well. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Lightsaber

Sinjon_Teague notices the man's glance towards his book. He cocks his head to  the side, ears a flutter at the noises from the casino. His eyes dilate a  bit as he peers at Paul and finally says, "Hello, it seems that you have   made some animosity from that Antharian female. It wouldn't be wise to   trifle with them, they are quite.... easy to upset, much like Wookiees during   mating season."

Sinjon's deep voice is rather hard to mistake, and Ariana turns toward the resonant sound and lifts a whitish blonde brow rather sharply.

Head turning, Paul considers the Horansi for a moment, his expression rather blank despite Sinjon's cogent remarks. Instead, the Corellian merely nods, taking a sip from his glass again, matching knowledge points with the cat. "Yes, I know ... I've worked with them on many occasions. In this case, I  didn't have much of a choice .... and she's in heat to boot." One eyebrow raises again, irony marking his face, as he considers the book again. "Never  met a book learned Horansi before ...."

The mirror's image acquires a faint reddish tinge, which fades after a few minutes.

Sinjon_Teague smiles at Paul, "True, most of the Horansi who travel off world  do so to find excitement and the unknown. I know of a few of my fellows who   have gone on to make their way as warriors, smugglers, technicians and the   like. Not many Mashi travel off of Mutanda, I am one of the lucky ones I   guess." He nods towards the book, "It's one of my favorites in my library. I  have just finished another dealing with Wookiee religious rites. I seem to be   reading a lot about other races religion ever since I had the chance to   perform a Sarian wedding ceremony a few months back."

Ariana finds for herself a quiet location near the edge of the crowd and lingers there, waving off a request for beverage, to watch Sinjon and Paul. Her brow is still quirked, her expression still watchful.

The sabacc-side wall seems to be reflecting the room in a horizontally flipped image.

Rabid steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Rabid has arrived.

"I haven't met many Horansi," Paul admits, leaning against the bar to turn and face Sinjon. "There was a Kasa Horansi back on Palahni ... and of course  Kuxli ... but I don't know what caste he's from ...." Memories filter back to Paul from months ago, remembering that the Mashi were the religious order, the holy ones ... never took mates ... and that Dionysis had called Luke a "Mashi". With that thought, Paul looks down, almost unsurprised to  notice the lightsaber at Sinjon's side. Glancing back up, Paul murmurs, "So  then, what brings you from Mutanda?"

Lynx steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Lynx has arrived.

Rabid steps casually into the casino, and slips his blaster out of it's  holster to pass it to one of the bouncers at the door. He takes a sweeping gaze of his surroundings and begins to weave his way through the crowd, heading slowly towards the bar.

Ariana is poised near the bar, hand on one smooth hip, attention rather fully on Paul and Sinjon.

Sinjon_Teague smiles toothily, "Why I live on Caspar." He pauses for a moment, and starts, "How dreadfully rude of me, I haven't introduced myself. My name  is Teague, Sinjon Teague." He offers a large paw to Paul.

Rabid reaches the bar, and taps two fingers on the top to get the attention of  the nearest bartender. "I'll take my usual Corellian sunburst, please.", he  says once he's been noticed. He turns a little, and casually leans sideways against the bar, glancing out into the sea of patrons.

On the mirror wall, Paul_Nighman's reflection morphs into an unrecognizable black and white image for a while.

Taking the paw without hesitation, Paul shakes it firmly. "Nighman ... Paul  Nighman." There's a gleam in his eye of curiosity, as he knows that for a  Mashi to be away from Mutanda is highly unusual. Perhaps two months ago he  would press the question further, but that was a different man. He cannot, however, help the curious glint in his hazel eyes, but asks instead. "I  gather then you've been to Ithor ... of course most of the ceremonies happen   out of context now that the ceremonies are herdship bound." He sighs, staring at the book cover, recognizing the authors' name. Jabbing a finger at it, he murmurs, "That's woefully incomplete ... there's nothing at all on  the planet bound priests ... " There is another sigh as he adds thoughtfully, "But of course, there really isn't anything available on them  ..."

Ariana's flint-blue eyes narrow rather drastically as the Horansi speaks. The name, in fact, appears to have engendered in Ariana some particularly strong emotion, for her cheeks turn a deeply red hue and her forehead furrows acutely under the drips of curls. Stepping to one side so as not to be in  the way and to become less obtrusive and obvious, she leans against the bar, orders a glass of wine, and continues observing.

Sinjon_Teague pulls out a stool near Paul while the barkeep brings down his plate of food as well as the teapot. He shakes Paul's hand. "So you know  Kuxli? He is a Treka, those who work with much of the technology on Mutanda.   He is only Treka in name and appearance, since he was removed from Mutanda   while he was a very young cub." Sinjon nods his thanks to the barkeep and hands him some credits for the service. He let's go of Paul's hand and picks up his mug and takes a long sip eyeing Ariana as he does so. "Yes, I know it  is quite outdated since nothing has been actually printed about them on   paper in a while. I just can't get used to the idea of datapads carrying   information, it all seems woefully soulless and electronic. Books have   character and feeling to them, so you can weigh the knowledge within them by   the thickness of the paper contained." He shoots a glance towards Ariana again.

Ariana inclines her head in response to Sinjon's two glances, even adds a  courteous smile (if a trifle feral), before she slides onto a conveniently empty barstool and begins to drink her pale blue wine. Most of her gaze seems focused on Paul now, and in that gaze she instills a certain amount of appreciation for his appearance.

A spray of dim, tiny sparks races across the mirror wall's image, chasing each other to the other far side before disappearing.

With Ariana behind him, Paul doesn't quite understand Sinjon's glances, and somehow manages to stifle the urge to turn around and look. Smiling slightly, as if recognizing a soul-brother to an extent, Paul nods, reaching over to open the satchel hanging across his torso. Opening it up, there are a number of books in there ... not only books, but extremely old if not ancient tomes ... "Yeah ... I know what you mean ... but there isn't any new  electronic updated information either .... that is a well kept Ithorian   secret," he notes, a frown slipping across his features as he adds sotto vocce, and more to himself really, "... among others ...."

Rabid's eyes shift around, scanning the crowd. Eventually falling on the group nearby. One of his eyebrows rise slightly as he catches sight of  something...perhaps on Sinjon. Then, a mere half-second later, his drink arrives. His attention is diverted away, as he turns and takes the tall glass in his hand. "Thanks", he mutters just before taking a sip.

Sinjon_Teague's eyebrows shoot up for a moment at Ariana's smile but his attention is quickly drawn back to Paul as soon as the books are shown. "Ahh  yes! I have most of these contained in my larger library on Caspar. I   understand what you mean about there being more to the Ithorian religion. I   know that much was 'lost' or more to the point hidden after they moved to   the herdships. I guess that is similar in any culture when there is a sudden   change in cultural direction. May I?" He asks, pointing towards the satchel of texts.

Ariana glances Rabid's way for a millisecond, noting his position and appearance, then she resumes her just-barely casual observation of Paul and his Horansi companion.

The movement of patrons in the casino is depicted in the large mirror as  trailing faint auras of color.

Nodding Paul lets the Horansi take a look at what is there, pulling them out carefully and holding them on his lap, not trusting the bar to be clean or  dry. Some of the books are indeed, not rare. There is a text on Corellian pre-history and religious myths and beliefs, another on Calamari and myths of the Drowned City. There is however two books that are written in a  language unfamiliar to Sinjon. One looks extremely old, and indeed has been restored and reinforced to protect it from further damage and decay. The other looks old as well, but has been somewhere safe it would seem for some time. It is well bound, with a strange symbol of a whirling bird of fire and a serpent dragon turning on and attacking a predatory cat.

A spray of dim, tiny sparks races across the mirror wall's image, chasing each other to the other far side before disappearing.

Sinjon_Teague holds onto the book with the strange symbol with great care. It  shows that he has obviously been around books for most of his life and shows a great respect for them and the knowledge they contain. "I don't recognize  the language that these two books are written in. I guess my education has   been quite lax in some areas especially since Mutanda isn't exactly a haven   for ideas outside of the Horansi culture." He opens the book carefully as  not to tear or jostle the pages too much. He scans the pages looking at the drawings as well as the text that is written within. "Where did you find  such wonderful books? I have been looking for a dealer for a long time, but   most don't deal with ancient texts. Too fragile and require a lot of care   that most would rather put towards their ships or more profitable cargoes." Sinjon continues to scan and says in a low tone of voice towards Paul, "Do  you know that young, blonde lady near the end of the bar?"

Paul begins to open his mouth to respond to the topic of where he found his books, but Sinjon's final question distracts him enough to cause him to  stop, pause, and then in an unsubtle gesture, turn and look.

As Paul turns toward her, Ariana lifts her glance toward him, crosses her legs, and offers him the most seductive smile she can muster...even though her eyes flicker toward the Horansi.

Ariana: Of medium height and reed-thin, she initially gives the impression of being almost insubstantial until one realizes that what flesh is on her frame is  sinewy and toned, like a dancer or athlete. Her pale blonde hair, streaked gold by sun, is growing into a softer, wavier, coiffure nearly to her shoulders, framing a pert, youthfully appealing face. Her eyes, sparkling and watchful, are a healthy compromise between blue and grey. She is  presently attired in a beaded evening gown of ice blue, wrapped snugly about her body and sporting a single long sleeve only; the right arm is bare from shoulder to fingertip save for a trio of silver bangles. Like her other gowns, this one has a long kick pleat from midthigh down to facilitate movement. Twin clear-cut jewels sparkle at each earlobe, and a slender silver band adorns her right ring finger.

Paul's hazel gaze connects with Ari's slivery blue ones ... and then with the ice blue of her gown, and he swallows. Hard. Coughing lightly he somehow manages to turn back to the Horansi, his gaze dark as he rumbles, "Yes, I  know her ... do you?"

The sabacc-side wall seems to be reflecting the room in a horizontally flipped image.

Rabid turns away from the bar, perhaps not seeing the events beside him, though it's doubtful that he missed them. He takes a long sip of the tall drink in his grasp, and automatically begins that same process of watching the crowd. He doesn't seem the person who wants to be taken by surprise.

Sinjon_Teague shakes his head in negation, "I have seen her around but I don't  really know her. She seems vaguely familiar..." He looks directly at her, his eyes dilating then contracting as he stares intently at her. Sinjon cocks his head to the side, his ears fluttering as if to pick up some sort of sound. "I believe she is interested in whatever we are talking about,  rather interested since her attention hasn't shifted from us." His attention turns back to Paul, "I am sorry to distract you like that. Where again did  you procure these fine manuscripts?" Sinjon smiles broadly showing off is  gem inset incisor.

Ariana tilts her head to one side as her smile changes, for Sinjon's benefit, from seductive (that was for Paul) to polite again. And, yes, a trifle feral. Her eyelid lowers in a slow wink at the Corellian, then, shifting on  her barstool, she uncrosses and re-crosses her legs in the other direction and begins to converse with the bartender.

Eryk steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Eryk has arrived.

The sabacc-side wall seems to be reflecting the room in a horizontally flipped image.

Eryk steps into the casino and stands by the door for a moment, glancing around for a place to sit.

Rabid is up near the bar, casually leaning against it. His eyes slowly move over the crowd, quickly darting over as another man enters into the casino.

"I don't think it's the topic that has her interest," Paul mumbles softly, although the alternative that comes to his mind doesn't make him any more comfortable. In fact, although the light is dim, it seems as if the Corellian's color may have risen .. just slightly. _Books ... where did you get the books?_ he chides himself. Looking down at the one in Sinjon's  hands, however, brings him back to the ground firmly, his eyes sobering and his expression becoming somewhat removed. Instead, however, he picks up the brown leather bound tome ... a book that is clearly old by the fact that it  is a hand bound, hand made book, all of the text being written by hand and wondrous pen and ink drawings gracing it's margins and pages. "This I found  in the Orishna crypt on Tamis while on a dig assignment."

Ariana is between the lounging Rabid and the conversing Paul and Sinjon. Her attention is on the latter two, at least when they seem occupied by their books.

Rabid looks at you for a moment.

Eryk's eyes pass over everyone and everything in the room before coming to  rest on an empty barstool...the same stool, in fact where he sat just the other night. Not too far away are a conversing human and a Horansi, as well as other beings. Eryk strides to the bar and sits down, mumbling, "Corellian  Ale," to the bartender. The 'tender nods, and hands him a mug and an opened bottle before moving down the bar to take care of other patrons. Eryk slowly pours from the bottle into the mug as he glances around the bar from face to  face.

Eryk takes a seat at the bar.

Eryk looks at you for a moment.

Eryk: A man of medium height, a little under 6 feet (around 1.75 meters). His features are neither striking nor unpleasant. His chin is angular, his nose smoothly curved, and his cheekbones well-defined, though not jutting out. His eyes are green and his hair light brown, worn fairly short. He has no beard; there is a light stubble on his chin and cheeks, but it is not quite a five o'clock shadow. You judge him to be in his mid twenties.

His clothing consists primarily of a light suit of black armor. The plates look very protective and can be seen everywhere but his head, hands, and feet. Around his neck and at his joints, a black cloth-like material can be seen. A red belt circles his waist, with a few pouches and compartments hanging off it. Black gloves cover his hands, and his feet are covered by  soft-soled black hide boots. Over his shoulders he wears a black cape with a  hood. The cape is fastened together at the left shoulder with an ornate metallic clasp. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Light Armor  -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => MultiPad

Rabid: Calm in a storm, and uneasy when it's too quiet. Definitely out of the ordinary.

The figure that is before you is a male human, probably in his mid-twenties. He stands in the range of 5'9 and seems to have a rather good build, possibly suggesting regular exercise. His handsome face displays thought and calculation of his surroundings. His dark brown eyes also display this feature; watching, analyzing, searching, at all times. His hair is the same dark brown of his eyes and he wears it in a short, but still manageable style, parted on the left. A long, black trenchcoat hangs over him, and is  left open to reveal the attire that he wears. He is dressed in an  expensive-looking white shirt and black pants outfit, with well-polished dress shoes. He also wears an open, formal black vest over the shirt as an  accessory. If you carefully and at the correct moment, you can see that he  also has a shoulder holster on his left side, with a blaster pistol held inside. ((Blaster is OOC when I go into the Casino.)) -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Flash-4 Heavy Blaster Pistol

On the mirror wall, Sinjon_Teague's reflection morphs into an unrecognizable Wookiee for a while.

Sinjon_Teague's eyes light at the mention of Tamis, his ears perking forward, "I know of Tamis. It is a place of holiness and a center of mystical energy  according to the scrolls I have read. 'Strong in the Force' it is said to   be. I believe part of it is because technology isn't allowed except in one   space port and that is it. I have always thought to travel there sometime   since it appeals to me on many levels." He looks around at the newcomers that have entered since he began his conversation with Paul. "Well Mr.  Nighman, it seems you are quite a learned gentleman. So what brings you to   the Casparian system?"

Ariana, after a cursory glance at Eryk, shifts back toward Sinjon and damned near drops her wineglass when she overhears his last statements. As quickly and smoothly as she can, she beckons the bartender to her again and makes a  hurried request for something to eat. Braised bruallki, it sounds to be.

Reaching for his glass, Paul manages to hide the look of relief as the second mysterious tome is forgotten for the moment. He finishes the drink first, placing it down and signaling for another one, not watching to see the deed actually done. "Business," replies the Corellian evenly, making no comment on the learned point.

Rabid places his half-empty glass down on the bar, and lifts his right arm up. His sleeve is pulled back by the opposite hand, and he glances at a small black device strapped in place. He frowns, and glances towards the door again. He snorts, slightly annoyed at something, and drops the sleeve back into place.

Eryk glances down the bar catching bits and pieces of various conversations, but not really taking interest in any of them. He sips his ale with the same disinterest, and shoots a bored glance down the bar at a young woman. He  smiles at her, raises his glass, and takes another drink.

Sinjon_Teague's ears twitch at the brusque response. "Ah yes, the Antharian  female." He lets that part of their conversation hang. His gaze returns to  the books, "So tell me about this other book. Most curious design on the   front cover." He hold it up to the light to get a better look at it. "You  never did say where you were able to procure such fine texts. Is it a secret   or a personal contact that you do not wish to part with, if so I will not   ask again." Sinjon's gaze is level and intense the green flashing for a  moment as he asks Paul this question again.

The mirror wall behind the sabacc tables reflects the room, then slyly adds about a half dozen black silhouettes of stormtroopers.

Taggor steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Taggor has arrived.

With some slight effort and another glass of wine Ariana turns away from Paul and Sinjon to look about her; when she catches Eryk's gaze she gives him a  nod, lips curving upward to boot, and murmurs, "Good evening."

The Corellian finds it fortunate that he's been asked so many questions at  once ... it makes it easier to only answer some of them and not appear to be  rude. "Of course it's no secret," Paul replies with a slight coloring of  pleasure in his voice despite himself. "Many I do come by through my  background and connections ... my fath .... well, you may have heard of Dr.   Xavier Nighman?" he queries, that small spark of enthusiasm dying off abruptly, but the tone is still cordial.

Taggor stands near the door and walks slowly into the large room. He looks as  if he is looking for someone.

Eryk's hairline shifts at Ariana's response. "Good evening, miss." He smiles. "Could I interest you in...?" His question breaks off as a man by the door catches his eye. He looks over Taggor carefully and then turns slowly to  look at Ariana again.

Ariana prompts delicately, "In...?"

Rabid leans up against the bar, his eyes playing across the various people within the establishment. He seems to be doing...well...nothing. If minding one's own business was an art, he'd be the Master.

Taggor walks near the edge of the dance floor to a table off to the side of  the dais. He pulls out a chair and looks around one last time.

Taggor takes a seat at the side table on the dais.

Eryk smiles sheepishly. "Oh..." He blinks. "In a drink. I apologize for the  unoriginality, but I thought you might want one to go with your meal, and I   strongly recommend the Corellian Ale."

Mari steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Mari has arrived.

Sinjon_Teague eyes widen at the mention of such a well published person, "Why  yes. I have read many of his books, they are quite informative but leave   much to be desired as far as making the reading interesting, other than the   facts." Sinjon notices the obvious overlooking of _that_ book again. "So,  what can you tell me about this book?" as he hefts the weight of it in one large paw. "It's got a most curious design. Well known in many mythos,  Phoenix being rebirth, the tiger strength, and the dragon being wisdom."

Taggor: Before you stands a human male about 1.8 meters tall. His skin is a dark tan from many years of exposure to the sun. His face is badly scarred but it is  done in an artistic manner. Lines radiate out from his right eye to the back of his head. His head is shaved short except for a long pony tail of blonde hair in the back. Several earrings hang from his ears. His body looks tone and muscular like he has worked hard for most of his life. He wears a dark colored suit consisting of a jacket and matching pants and patent leather shoes. Black leather gloves don his hands. On his jacket hangs a dark red flower tucked into the breast pocket.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => EKX-10 Blaster Rifle -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Comlink

Mari strolls into the casino, stopping in the doorway to find a place to sit.

According to the mirror wall, Rabid is suddenly dressed in last season's  fashion.

Mari sets herself down at a table near the bar.

Ariana lifts the glass of pale blue wine she's nursing. "No, I'm quite well  cared for, thank you." As she slides off her stool, she adds to the bartender, who's just arrived with her food, "Send it back for me, will  you?" She offers Eryk a further smile and murmurs, "Apologies if I'm  leaving abruptly, sir. I hope you enjoy your evening."

It's impossible to ignore the probing questions this time, but there is a way to be polite if not complete. Reining in sparking emotions, Nighman covers his discomfit well, only the shadow in his eyes hinting at anything wrong. "Not exactly ... the symbols are not what you think they are." Taking the book carefully back, Paul notes with one finger what Sinjon thought of as  Phoenix. "This is the swirling Firehawk ... it represents wisdom." His hand slides to it's compatriot. "The Dragon-serpent is strength," and finally to  the focus of their attentions, the feline, "And this is the steadfast Iron   cat .... representing loyalty."

Ariana says to Eryk, even as she looks one last time at Paul and his Horansi friend, "Well, perhaps tomorrow. I'm easy to find around here, Mr...?"

Mari orders a drink and sits back in the chair, stretching her long legs out and sighing, when the glass is brought to her and the server is about to  pour, she holds up a hand, "No...no glass, just leave me the bottle." she takes the bottle from the server and hands him a few extra credits.

Eryk takes a quick sip of his ale and says, "Zephron. Eryk Zephron, and I  know...I've seen you around here before. Though I don't believe I know your   name."

"Ariana Millikin," the blonde answers, offering Eryk her right hand and another smile.

Sinjon_Teague nods and absorbs this information, "Ah... So what culture is  this taken from? As I stated, I don't recognize the language. This symbol is   very well drawn for being done by hand, I would have to say that a lot of   attention and care was put into it. Wisdom and strength attacking or   destroying loyalty? That is most curious..." He hands the book back to Paul who is obviously uncomfortable talking about it. "I am sorry if I have  prodded where I should not have. I don't wish to cause you dismay or   sadness."

Taggor stops one of the waitstaff and orders and drink. When the server returns he flips a credit chip onto the serving tray and takes the mug of  Lomin Ale.

Eryk begins to reach for the hand and then takes his hand back and scratches his chin with it. "You know," he says with a smirk, "I don't know whether to  shake that hand or kiss it...though I think one might be too cold and the   other too forward."

Mari takes a long swig from the bottle, gasping slightly as the strong liquor burns it's way down. She sets the bottle on the table and now begins to  watch the room.

Ariana takes up her wineglass and informs Eryk with a sly wink, "Let me know  if you figure it out, Mr. Zephron. And do have a good evening." Having said that, she glides around the others and heads toward the back of the room, beyond the bar and a pair of large plants.

Various reflections of beings in the room are suddenly outlined in  multicolored sparks on the Wall.

Nothing else said could bring Paul back from the edge faster, his posture straightening further, and a deliberate banishment of emotion from his features. In a strong voice, he counters readily, "Nonsense. It's   Mandalorian ... and the symbolism is misleading ... it is merely the start   of a myth from the clan D'ael'mor."

Eryk chuckles to himself slightly as he turns back to look at some of the other beings in the bar. He lifts his mug to his lips again and glances around the casino.

You sense, as she passed behind you, Ariana trailed a finger across your back.

Ariana slips into a section of poor lighting near a section of wall paneling. Ariana has left.

Taggor sips slowly on his mug as he watches those in the casino.

Paul jerks abruptly as Ariana passes him by, his eyes settling onto that long expanse of back before it vanishes into shadow. It remains on the point of  departure for a few moments as well.

Mari sighs as she sees just the normal casino crowd, her eyes down cast at the table she continues to drink heavily from the bottle...which is emptying rapidly.

Mari: A tall (around nine feet) shapely female Horansi, Mari carries herself with a  cockiness that tends to put people off. She is quite beautiful for her species, her fur a light blond, streaked with black down the back, and a  long black and blonde tail. She is decorated by many scars and battle wounds, the worst being a long gash on her left side. She carries a bulging backpack with her and is usually sporting a bottle of booze. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Field Armor  -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Starchart

Mari looks at you for a moment.

Taggor stands from the side table on the dais.

Sinjon_Teague notices the amount of attention that Paul has put to the now departed Ariana. "For someone who you..know she seems to create quite a  reaction for you. If I didn't know better I would say that she was...what is   the word.. baiting you?" he takes a long drink from his mug. "This one isn't  like the others, it seems to be more of a personal writing, almost a diary   of sorts." Sinjon continues to scan Paul's features, wondering what he is  hiding so well beneath that practiced facade.

The sabacc-side wall seems to be reflecting the room in a horizontally flipped image.

Eryk drinks the last of his ale and looks left and then right before standing up and placing a few credits down in front of him at the bar. The bartender passes by and picks them up as he continues in his tireless job.

Eryk stands from the long bar at the back of the room.

Paul's eyes drop to the handwritten pages, the Mandalorian words there as  familiar to him as Basic or Corellian. "She's ... ah ... yes, I guess you  could say that there is a certain amount of baiting that goes on between us   ...." he admits softly, the din of the Casino keeping his words in the air between himself and the Horansi. Shaking his head, Paul nods at Sinjon's  other observation, murmuring, "It's a historian's journal ... during the   years before, during, and after the fall of Mandalore ...."

Eryk picks up his bottle one last time to make sure the last of it is gone. He  frowns a little but sets it down nonetheless and turns brusquely, heading for the doors of the casino.

Rabid takes another look at his watch, frowning even deeper this time. He rubs at his chin for a moment, and then downs the last of his drink. Tossing a  few credits, which he procured from inside his coat, he pays for the drinks, and moves away from the bar. His stride away from the bar takes him quickly through the crowd, and towards the exit.

Eryk makes his way out of the Casino. Eryk has left.

Rabid makes his way out of the Casino. Rabid has left.

As the pages turn between the Horansi's padded fingertips he scans the words. "This seems quite detailed, but I don't read Mandalorian. The person had an  eye for detail as well as keeping facts by the way the drawings are made.   Hmmm...Most fascinating." He looks up at Paul for a moment, "So business  brings you here. Any kind of business in particular?"

"Shipping cargo," Paul murmurs distractedly, his eyes still on the words flipping before his gaze, but clearly somewhere beyond them at the moment.

The movement of patrons in the casino is depicted in the large mirror as  trailing faint auras of color.

Sinjon_Teague eyes Paul as he gazes at the text, "So you have been to  Mandalore? I hear it is a fascinating planet, many temples and their like." He finishes flipping through the pages and hands the book back to Paul. His attention goes to the food, uneaten next to them. "Would you care for a  snack? That was my original purpose for being here. I had been helping   repair the gardens here on KOS. There has been some troubles with Rodian   bounty hunters. I ran into the group of them a day or so ago in the Blue   Nebula. I was lucky there was a Corellian gentleman by the name of Nerik   there and an individual named Saul as well who helped me defend against the   Rodians. It was most unfortunate there was a death caused to the Rodians by   their rash actions. I tried to convince them to leave peacefully but they   didn't wish for that." Sinjon sighs for a moment, his expression turning a  bit melancholy.

Kuxli steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Kuxli has arrived.

"There's little left there now .... they destroyed themselves," Paul replies darkly, his gaze raising moodily from the pages before he catches himself, shaking his head to lose the look. "Sorry .... " he murmurs, his voice trailing off as Sinjon for once doesn't notice the chink in his armor, the Horansi talking about something involving Rodians. It takes a few moments before Paul can focus on the words, listening now with a nod. However, the final sentiment is still the same. "Sorry."

According to the mirror wall, Paul_Nighman is suddenly dressed in last season's fashion.

Kuxli makes his way out of the Casino. Kuxli has left.

Sinjon_Teague gazes at Paul, his expression puzzled at the response from Paul. His eyes unfocus for a moment as he speaks, "You seem to be elsewhere, or at  least your thoughts are. Is there anything I can do for you, to ease   your...." his voice trails off.

The movement of patrons in the casino is depicted in the large mirror as  trailing faint auras of color.

Self-sufficient ... always has been always will be .... Paul Nighman doesn't  need anybody. These words, however, are not spoken, not even hinted at. Paul merely shakes his head calmly, reserved strength and strengthened reserve coming into play. "No, no ... it's simply that I was there recently and the  experience was ... unpleasant," he explains by way of understatement. Rising from his seat, Paul downs the rest of his brandy in a gulp, putting the glass down on the bar and placing credits there to cover his tab. Offering his hand again to the Horansi, Paul murmurs, "It was a pleasure to meet you  Sir Teague ... you must forgive me, but an hour is nearly up, and if I miss   her again, I may find myself in the uncomfortable position of being marked."

Sinjon_Teague's eyes snap back into focus, "Ah, I am sorry to detain you Mr.  Nighman and I would feel very much so in your debt if you were marked. I   apologize for intruding upon your...personal feelings, I did not mean to   bring up something that was again, unpleasant." He stands quickly and bows quite low to Paul, obviously showing a deep respect in Mashi terms. "It was  truly my honor and I hope that our paths do cross again. If you are ever in   this part of space again, please come to Caspar and look me up at my   residence. If I am not there I am often in the gardens here on KOS." Sinjon quickly grabs a piece of paper and scribbles his address on it for Paul. He  offers his paw again to the Corellian, "Thank you for taking the time to   talk to a fellow student of, well, everything!"

The Horansi's enthusiasm tears another small crack in Paul's facade, and the Corellian bows in return, taking the moment to compose his features before rising again. "It's nothing," he dismisses lightly, taking the paw as well as the address. "There are many things in life that are not pleasant, but  they are life, and usually worth living through," he adds philosophically, his words braver than his thoughts. Glancing at the address, Paul shoves it  into the pocket of his shirt. "I'm sure we'll meet again .... until that  time," and glancing down at the lightsaber, Paul's gaze rises again and he   finishes, "may the Force be with you."

In the mirror wall, a ghostly rancor plows -through- one of the sabacc tables, then blips out.

Donivan steps into the entry way from the northern concourse. Donivan has arrived. Donivan looks at you for a moment.

Donivan: An average size being. About 6'3, and around 200lb. He stands, dressed in a long, dark black cloak, that covers him down to the ankles. Its the color of night itself. From underneath the garment, can be seen a pair of  shiny black, army style boots, and a pair of hands, covered by black, gloves can be seen from time to time. The creature's head is completely covered by  a large hood, preventing any identification. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Light Armor  => Corellian Rapier => Burrito of Death and Sexual Prowess => Corellian Rapier -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Carried Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Don's Sabacc Deck => HFK Inc. Com-Padd

Sinjon_Teague smiles toothily at Paul, "And may it be with you as well Paul  Nighman. I have a feeling that you are a potent ally for the side of Light.   It has been a pleasure meeting you. May your journeys be pleasant and filled   with enlightenment."

Managing to stifle a negatory comment, Paul merely smiles back wryly at Sinjon before turning to head out. He stops by security to pick up his weapons, gives the Horansi one last wave, and steps out of the Casino.

You make your way out of the casino's main room and into the concourse outside.