revivalproject | ♤ Time Flies By In the City of Light

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♤ Time Flies By In the City of Light

WHO: Cayde-6 and the more or less responsible
WHERE: Lower levels of Coruscant, space jail, the works ~~oh wait that's actually a place~~
WHAT: Being a tourist, getting insulted, and trying to make a profit
WHEN: Earlier part of event-trip
WARNINGS: N/A Will update as needs be. Also SORRY THIS IS SO LONG but I gave options...
NOTES: Feel free to pose in preferred style, will match! Also if you want to play out a combination of things or lead in from one to another, etc., totally open to anything.

"I have a good feeling about this place."

It hadn't been all that long ago that Cayde had said those fateful words, had it? And really, compared to the previous planets and places they'd had to visit, this giant city-world looked most promising.

By now he's put together their strange Agrii-directive, but then figuring out who all of their group came from this neck of space wasn't too difficult. A strange number indeed. Did that mean that a potential next stop would be Earth? They have a good number from there, but it'd be a toss-up as to which. And as much as he'd love to show people around home, he hopes his Sol System isn't on the list. That's however neither here nor now, and there's plenty of things to draw his attention from lingering on such thoughts.

"...we are going to get so lost," he says decisively as he takes in the stream of traffic flying between platforms and citywalks, and yet somehow he sounds chipper all the same. Stepping over to the nearby railing, he looks down and down some more, eyeing the levels of lights and transports that actually make their way below. Beaming, he looks up at Sundance. "So lost."

---
A. Sightseeing
♠️ With so much shiny city to explore, can anyone blame the Exo for heading off without much warning? He figures if anyone needs him, he's got his tablet. There isn't too much that interests him in the upper echelons of the city, save for plenty of high places to get a nice view, and he'd already been yelled at for being on someone's roof. The strange if not concerned looks that follow him wherever he goes thereafter are for the most part ignored, if only because he's figured it's not unlike the usual response he gets from newbies back in Temba.

♠️ It doesn't take him long to worm his way to the lower levels. It stands to reason that anything he might find interesting would be in the undercity, the gambling dens, the black market, those willing to bend a few rules. Also food that wasn't overpriced. Unfortunately it hasn't hit him just how differently people of the mechanical variety are viewed and treated around here. Then again, there aren't any models that compare to him, much less wear clothing and openly carry a weapon around.

♠️ There are those who watch him pass with caution, some with outright disdain, but then there are others who watch with all too much interest, tailing at a distance...

---

B. Fud
♠️ "Whaddya mean 'where's my owner?'" Cayde snorts, looking incredulously at the man who's apparently barred him entrance. He's by a diner of sorts, scowling at a confused employee who's barring his way in. "Look, I just flew in and wanted to sample some of this city-planet's fine cuisine. Now, I do realize I could take my business elsewhere, but just because food's expensive doesn't mean it tastes any better, and this here looks like it's been here a while, so clearly there must be something good going on here."

By the looks of the man at the door, he's still trying to work out what the metal fellow is saying to him, or maybe wondering if the metal fellow has a few crossed wires as he casts a look around for some help. Droids usually aren't so insistent about wanting to...eat??

♠️ Alternatively there are plenty of bars and clubs with fetching neon signs that make the Exo a tad envious. "I need one of those," he insists. "But I guess for now I'll settle on trying the drinks." The bartender within shoots him a disdainful look as some sort of alarm light triggers by the door. "We don't serve droids," he says, his tone clearly suggesting that said droid should know this. Then he almost falls over when Cayde looks over his shoulder, because clearly he's not the one being addressed!

---

C. I Fought the Law
For some reason or another, the Guardian finds himself in a cell. Maybe he's got company, maybe he's its sole occupant- maybe his company's familiar! But in any case, he seems to be taking it rather well, lounging on the thin panel that makes up a pallet, arms folded behind his head. Who knows why he's in here. A fight? Unruly behavior? Rogue droid, wha-?

♠️ He doesn't particularly expect any help- it's a big city! But then word does travel fast, especially talk about some weird droid with clothes on. It's fine if he doesn't get a hand, he's taking this in as part of the city experience. He'll leave when he gets bored, or if his pals don't share the same interest in experience as him.

---

D. Beating Up Baddies For ~~Fun and~~ Profit
Oh, you know how it goes, you run into some bad company, or just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and witness things certain parties wish you hadn't. That sort of thing happens often down in the lower levels, and between the turf wars and the general violent tendencies of those who have come to consider Coruscant's underbelly as their domain, it would be amazing if you didn't run into some trouble of some kind.

♠️ Cayde? He can't help it if people leave their caches in such obvious places. They're just asking to be picked up by some enterprising Exo. The previous owners beg to differ, and they're not having a fancy droid make off with their hard-gained artillery.

♠️ There are also people down here fighting to protect those who eke out a living in unfortunately violent territories. With gangs like the Black Sun making trouble, groups like the Justicars are open to recruiting anyone willing to risk their necks for some extra credits and equipment if they'll run an errand or two, or help put down some trouble-making gang cells. Care to join the Exo on a mini-strike?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, that is some got-dam bullshit right there," she said, slipping into an old habit. She and her roommate, Ardelia Mapp, had had a solemn tradition of cursing more frequently when they discussed things that were dark or upsetting. Given that Mapp had been a black woman from a family with a history of struggle and discrimination, this sort of horrible treatment decidedly qualified.

"I know it ain't quite what you were hopin' for, Cayde, but you need me to stick with you while you poke around, I can be your glorified accessory, and these sumbitches won't need to know any better."

"D'aw, you'd do that for little ol' me?" Despite the wording, Cayde did look surprised at that offer. Clarice was quickly gaining brownie points, but she'd already long come off as a likeable person.

"Tell you what. Let's go hit up this other bar, my treat. And then if there's anything you wanna see, we'll do that. Then if anything tickles my fancy while we're wandering, we'll do the poking then."

"That's kind of you, Cayde, thanks." She smiles at him. "And of course I would. We're ... practically teammates, now, right? The way I see it, we're stuck helping the Agri together, we should help each other, too. It's how things get done. One hand washing the other and all that."

When they reached the bar in question, she glanced up at it, a mass of neon lights in swirling Aurabesh letters. "I can't read a lick of this. Can you?"

Cayde grinned. "Right you are."

For a good second or two the Hunter was too caught up in admiring the brightly lit sign. He sighed wistfully. "I still want one." He blinked, mostly at the internal reminder from his Ghost that Clarice had said something. "Huh? Oh- uh, hang on, we're gettin' better at this."

He patted around at his belt pouches before pulling out a skinny little notepad, flipping through a few pages to where he'd copied out some of the alien letters, the more discernible English alphabet written out beneath them, although there were still a lot of blank spots above them.

"...okay okay, that's an 'A' and....that's all I got. The only thing I've really learned how to pick out is 'sale'."

"He said it was called Dezo's," Starling murmured, squinting up at the signs. There wasn't an A in that, but ... there was an A in 'cocktails', and that particular sign looked long enough that it might be advertising them.

"Worst comes to worse, we get kicked out of this one and try next door," she shrugged, making her way toward the door. "Want one what?"

"Or Dezo is the guy that owns it. Either way, looks like a bar. Good enough for me." Cayde nodded, following the woman's lead.

"Hm? Oh. A neon sign. All the rage for local watering holes and fancy ramen shops." He paused. "-right, you haven't been in town long enough. I made a bar back in Temba, you should totally come by. It's called The Deep End," he grinned, eager to promote his own place even as they stepped into this one.

"That's your place?" She beams at him as they step inside - just a woman and her droid in conversation as far as the riff-raff inside are concerned. For once, no one gives Cayde a hard time. "Actually, I have been there. I just didn't know it was you. I went to explore the hangar and, uh." She clears her throat. "I feel like I owe you an apology, because I carried a little kid over there and he decided your fish tank was a sushi bar. If you need to replace the fish, I ... I'll do what I can to help."

Already that was a plus. Cayde figured that was as good as any indicator that they'd come to the right place. He laughed when Clarice outlined her experience visiting his place, waving a hand.

"Oh, you've been! That kid..." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I thought the thing was looking emptier... Not the first time he treated it as a buffet. But I figure it's better he fish in the tank than try his luck out in the lake outside the windows."

"He did say - so much as he could talk - that you were okay with it. It was the only reason I let him get away with it."

Clarice shook her head, amused, and looked for an open table where they could talk without being harassed by anyone who might happen to still feel like antagonizing her friend. There was one not quite to the back, a small two-top with chairs that looked as though they'd been used in a brawl or two. She headed straight for it.

"Who's looking after him, anyway? Did he even come with a family?" Her heart clutched at the thought of someone so small arriving with no notice and no warning, separated from everything they'd known. If the Agri were doing this to children so young, she was Going To Have Words if she ever found one. Strong, fighting words.

Ah, nice and homey. Cayde followed Clarice's lead as she spied an ideal place to sit. It was in a good enough spot to keep an eye on things too.

"The kid? Yeah, he came with the helmet- er, tall guy wearing armor, never takes off his helmet. I dunno, maybe when they grow bigger they get shy?" Yes, the Exo is still convinced the Mandalorian is basically a giant-sized big-eared green guy. "They got assigned to different ships though. Kid's on mine. He was a little scared about coming out once we landed. Not sure why."

Out of habit he flagged down the first server he saw once they'd settled into those chairs.

"Intimidated about bein' in a new place without his Daddy near, maybe," Starling guessed.

She pulled a few credits out of the pocket of her terrycloth lounge pants and jangled them in her hand. She'd found she liked the sound they made, the heft and feel of them.

"What should I order? I've got no idea what's good here and I'd rather not waste my money."

"Maybe," Cayde said, although by his tone he didn't sound completely sold on the idea. "Well, dad came not too long after so it's not like the little guy was left on the ship. Although I am positive I would've been able to get him off with that cookie trail I left."

The question of what to order was a good one. The only drink he knew off the top of his head was the one Cobb named. "I said my treat, didn't I? Wonder if they've got a special. One of our guys mentioned something called spotchka, but that's as far as my knowledge of drinks in this end of space goes."

He grinned as their table was finally approached by the server, an amber-skinned Togruta who gave the Exo an uncertain look before turning her attention to the woman seated with him.

"Cookies, huh?" She winked. "Would've worked on me, and I'm not ashamed to admit it."

When he reminded her the first round was on him, she slid her credits back into her pocket without protest, then looked up at the Togruta.

"Good evenin', ma'am. D'you have a special on tap tonight? Nothing too bitter, if you don't mind."

That got a grin from the Exo. "I'll have to remember that." It was hard not to imagine her and the kid fighting over cookies. He smothered a snicker, clearing his throat, completely unnecessary as it was, as he let Clarice lead on the drink ordering.

"Just got a shipment of Corellian ale. I recommend that over the Trandoshan," the Togruta replied with a slight smile.

"Two of those, then, please," Starling said to the barkeep with a polite smile, gesturing between herself and Cayde. "And a plate of Bantha sliders if it isn't too much trouble."
Something to pad out the alcohol seemed like a good idea, especially if they were going to be spending a little while there.

Once the barkeep left, she went back to the sweet subject at hand, grinning. "If you wanna remember it, definitely remember macaroons, if you've ever got any of those." She gave him a wink. "I'm a sucker for coconut."

Edited (whoops spacing fail) 2021-03-18 02:47 (UTC)

Cayde didn't miss the strange look that passed across their barkeep's face when Clarice ordered for two, but she didn't question it, smiling as she gave her a nod and went to go put the order in and get those drinks ready.

"Macaroons, hm? Noted," the Exo said, making a show of getting his notepad and jotting that down in perhaps surprisingly neat cursive. "No idea where I'd get coconuts like, anywhere, but hey. Never know!"

That remark about the coconuts reminded her that even though they'd been sent to learn about Coruscant, and why so many Jedi and others had become part of the Agri's recruitment, she had far more questions about everything at large.

"What ... is the living situation like for us, anyway? When we're not on these ... recons."

"You saw something of it, didn't you?" Cayde asked as he flipped a page and started laying down a few sketchy lines. "Things look worse at a glance, but we've got utilities working, and no one's starving so long as they don't mind flavored paste.

"There's plenty of space for people, no shortage of living space although a lot of room for improvement and repair, but that's what happens when you leave a place abandoned for so long," he continued.

"Flavored paste," she echoed slowly, and a chuckle slipped out before she could catch it. "Ohhh, my beau would absolutely hate it here." The thought of his reaction to that was bittersweet, and reminded her of something she still hadn't asked.

"He doesn't know where I've gone. Is there any way we can contact people? Tell them not to worry about us?"

There was something cute about someone referring to their beau. It made the Exo grin as he continued to sketch- a view of Temba's center square as well he could recall it from looking out from the clock tower he'd claimed.

"Not that I know of. I'm not even sure how the details work. Only one I know that's gone and come back recently is Tommy. He came back a little older. Never got around to asking about it. But we got the people from same worlds and different times, so who knows? Maybe no one'll know we've gone."

The Togruta returned with their drinks and a plate of sliders, and Cayde had credits on the table even before she'd withdrawn her hand from the latter. That at least got a genuine smile, and she asked if there was anything else they wanted before slipping off again.

Maybe no one'll know we've gone. It was a comforting thought, and she nodded a little to herself. At least for now, she'd let herself believe it. Until she had a chance to know for sure. Otherwise, she'd just worry, and that would do no one good at all.

"Good for now, thank you," Clarice said with a smile, putting a couple of extra credits down as a tip. Just because she'd hated greasing people in the FBI didn't mean she didn't know it was done, or how to do it. A little money could go a long way toward staving off any unpleasantries and give them time to talk about all of this undisturbed.

"I think I recognize that." She tapped the map, at the fountain. "That's where I showed up, isn't it?

"Seems to be the place people get dumped upon arrival- unless we're not around Temba," Cayde nodded. "Me and Stark, we had the luxury of waking up on an alien vacation planet because that was about the time the Agrii sent everyone off to enjoy themselves. Which of course made for a lot of confusion but who'd say no to a free vacation?" He certainly didn't, not when his job expected him to be stuck in the Last City all the time.

After adding a bit of shading here and there he sat back and picked up his drink. "You touch that shiny data orb when you woke up? Seems like a requirement when you wake up in Temba."

"Yessuh I sure did, though I wish to hell I hadn't." She took a generous gulp of her drink and shuddered, more at the memory than the strength of the spirit. "I've never had anything in my head quite like that, and I am not a fan."

Cayde tipped a generous amount of his own drink back, sighing as he set the glass down again. "Wouldn't blame you. I won't touch the things but I guess some people have been fine with having information uploaded into your head like that."

He took another drink, looking at the glass in consideration. "I might have to try tracking more of this one down for the bar- what do you think?"

"I am all for that," she said with relish, "especially since I don't want to get too far gone on anything in an unfamiliar place. But in a bar, where I know I'm safe? Hell yes."

With that, she tried a bite of one of the Bantha sliders, and made a deep noise of satisfaction. It wasn't quite like beef, a little closer to ground pork, but still juicy and flavorful, and the cheese had a taste to it unlike anything she could compare it to. "Mmm, damn. And if we could get away with raising whatever a bantha is, might not be a bad idea either. This is good."

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