JANELLE MONÁE // have you met TYG SELKO yet? SHE/THEY is a 24 year old GENDERFLUID HUMAN CYBORG. they’re originally from CANTONICA and now show loyalty to THE UNALIGNED. she is best known for being a PODRACER/BARTENDER, and i hear they’re pretty AUDACIOUS yet also FLIGHTY at times; i hope she survives the galactic civil war. (FRIDAY, 30, CST, THEY/XE)
A chuckle left his lips, “My life is filled with nothing but risks. The last thing I need is any unplanned risks.” When she pouted over his possible repainted starship, they grinned a little. “You might like it, I don’t mind it but, I have siblings who haven’t seen it yet, and the last thing I need is having to deal with their snarky little comments over it. If you have any siblings you know what I mean, yeah?”
Their grinned turned from a playful one into a devilish one when they called them a tough guy, and said they were lucky they weren’t a Jedi. “I am very much a tough guy, I don’t think anyone has ever said any different about me in that regard. But don’t worry, I don’t plan on starting any fights while I’m here, I’m just here for a good time right now, mind my own business. Unless of course one of your other wonderful patrons plans on starting a fight with me.”
“Guess you could say that.” Tyg shrugged. She’d been an only child, but Cantonica had swallowed up both her parents by the time she hit her teen years, so the other street kids became her family. “Yeah, they’d talk shit, but that never bothered me. Whenever they made fun of my hunk of junk podracer, I’d just work on it more. I painted that piece of scrap metal the brightest and most outrageous colors I could get my hands on.” She didn’t add that she’d learned to get her hands on pretty much anything, thanks to a few tricks she’d picked up from her ‘siblings.’
“Oh no, the regulars know the rule. The ones who don’t learn don’t make it long. Anybody gives you trouble, you bring ‘em right to me.” Tyg glanced past the self-proclaimed Jedi killer at the other patrons around the bar: a company of mercs throwing dice, a crew of regular pirates passing a joint around their table, a few scattered tables where people were having quieter conversations. (A few of them suspiciously quiet.) “A good time, huh? You looking to gamble? The bar doesn’t run anything but I could point you at a couple of folks that are good for a game. Same if there’s something you’re looking to buy.”
upon entering, lando had already taken his own appraisal on the other patrons in the bar. none that particularly looked like someone that his acquaintance might have transformed into, but that was a risky assumption to run. so was assuming that they would approach him. still, he could act like his attention was all on them, even if he did have a wandering gaze ( in more than one way ).
“well, i’m sure i can handle that,” he offered a toothy grin as the smooth reply came out. an easy chuckle escaped, lando nodding encouragingly. “yes, i think you could definitely say that. i’ve been lucky to see a lot of places, meet a lot of people. you are a good read.” for the most part, he presented himself obviously, but he was happy to test her skills. it’d pass the time, if nothing else. “okay. he’s a quiet guy, really doesn’t like to have much attention on him. not because he doesn’t like it, but because usually, it’s inconvenient for him.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Tyg winked, testing her theory that this was the kind of smooth-talker who enjoyed a little banter. “Oh, yeah? What kind of places? Get the feeling you’re the type whose business takes him all over the galaxy.” That wasn’t necessarily a compliment coming from Tyg, especially if one of those places was Cantonica, but they hoped he’d take it as one. It might make him more inclined to answer, and knowing what ports he frequented would help Tyg figure out what kind of businessman (or swindler) she was dealing with.
“Inconvenient, huh.” That piqued their interest. “I don’t suppose that’d be because he’s up to no good, now, would it?”
they consider the suggestion for a moment, & then nod. “good. i like caramel.” they can’t say that they have sweets of any kind often — imperial rationing habits are hard to break, it turns out — but they’ve always liked them. they know terrifying data about what it can do to your teeth, of course, but now was not the time to dive into that spiral.
they don’t need to lie about this for any kind of cover, & so they give her the simple truth : “it is. i’ve read quite a bit about takodana, though. it’s a beautiful planet.” with a very rich history that they had fun memorizing.
“That it is,” Tyg agrees as she mixes the martini. Takodana is beautiful in ways that Cantonica never could be. Sure, Tyg’s home planet has the breathtaking coastline, every inch manicured and molded to suit the wealthiest residents’ notions of the picturesque. But Takodana bursts with life, unfettered both in the biosphere and Maz’s castle. If only it had that same vitality in its podracing scene, Tyg would never go back.
“You’ve read about Takodana? What for?” Curiosity, not judgment, guides the slant of Tyg’s eyebrows. Much as Tyg likes the place, Takodana is unremarkable in the grand scheme of the galaxy. “What is it you do that has you reading about a little old watering hole like this?”
“Well I am glad that you are up to it, I would be disappointed if Maz had a bartender who couldn’t make a Bespin Fizz or as you said, wouldn’t be up to it.” A small chuckle left their lips, watching as their bartender started the process of making it. “Well then you are very welcome for spicing up your shift. I promise that I can be quite more exciting than the average customer, though I know here at Maz’s there are not many average customers. “
Stassam listened as they were told how Maz was currently on one her little missions doing who knew why for what reason. Still that didn’t stop a small frown from forming on their face. They had been really hoping to see Maz, but they knew she was either hit or miss due to her work schedule. “What a shame, I’ll have to come back soon then to get a view of her.” They chuckled again when they mentioned their own just coming back and how time meant nothing to Maz, they supposed living as long as she ahas that would make sense. “Oh a traveler. Though I would surely look good for someone that old. I died one hundred and seven years ago, and now here I am back again.”
“Just for that I’m putting a little extra fizz in it,” Tyg teased over the drink. A jet of air fired from their mechanical arm rippled the surface of the drink, but it was a superficial gesture. Sass aside, she mixed a damn good Bespin Fizz, and this customer with a superior air would taste it. Their comment on their own appearance made Tyg chuckle.
“And so humble, too.” She winked, dropping a tiny umbrella into the glass. “A hundred and seven years? Bet that’s more than just a little culture shock. Weird enough that the whole Empire collapsed while I was out, but you never even saw it, huh? Lucky you.” Tyg rested her chin in their mechanical hand. “What’s changed the most for you?”
han likely should NOT be indulging today – he has more work to do. there has to be someone around maz’s castle who can be useful. but he is tired to his bones, and he finds himself nodding at the bartender’s suggestion. chewie will shove him back into line if he lingers too long. it’s safe. ❛ double sounds like a dream, ❜ he agrees, unbothered by the new knowledge that he looks SO run down that she spotted it from a mile away. ❛ i’m trying to hunt down some … information, but i keep coming up empty. ❜
Tyg tilts the bottle and lets the brandy pour. His response is so vague it makes her chuckle. Before working the bar they thought all the old holofilms had exaggerated about the way bartenders always just happened to know every rumor in town, but now? People have told her all kinds of absolutely wild shit already, and she’s only been at the castle for a few weeks. “You and everybody else,” Tyg says. “Swear we get more people looking for information than drinks in here.” They slide his brandy across the bar. “Well, go on, then. Try me. I’m on the edge of my seat, here.”
He chuckled when she said that everyone was a little interesting after a few of the drink they had ordered. It was part of the reason he had gotten it something to get the edge off of him. “Well, I don’t need the help but….” Shrugging. “Getting lost in a good drink has never hurt anyone has it?” When she mentioned the ride he currently had, Eighth chewed their bottom lip. “Ah yes that, something of a gag gift I would say. I’ve been meaning to get it repainted.” When they were asked what made them interesting Eighth smirked, leaning a little, and telling the bartender with the utmost seriousness. “I’m interesting because I’m a jedi killer.” Letting it linger for a few seconds before he burst into laughter as if it was a joke. “Oh, did I get you there?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Tyg snickered at the idea that a good drink had never hurt anyone. “But what’s life without a little risk, am I right?” Their mischievous smile switched to a pout when he mentioned repainting the ship. “Aw, that’s too bad. I like it. Let your freak flag fly, you know? Hope the new paint job’s that much fun.”
Tyg resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at the bold claim. Instead, she leaned closer and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “Ooh, tough guy, huh? Lucky I’m not a Jedi, then.” His laughter put her at ease – at least he wasn’t serious. Still, she pointed a mechanical hand at the signs over the bar proclaiming No Fighting in every language. “Uh huh, sure you did. Just keep it outside and we don’t have a problem, okay, killer?”
an easy laugh fell from his lips, not bothered or deterred by their words, even if its not quite encouragement. flirtation was merely his default method of communication, particularly in places like this. he didn’t mind backing it up with a nice tip either. that was another default for him, really, especially now that he was making quite a sizable profit from everything going well in the mining industry. but he had better manners than to leave anyone working at maz’s place.
“hoping to meet an old friend.” friend was a strong word, of course, but no need to dive too far into that. “an old clawdite, actually. i’d offer a description of the guy, but i don’t think that’d be particularly helpful.”
“Does make it a little tricky to pick them out on sight.” Tyg scanned the bar, taking in the state of the current clientele. It wasn’t too busy, but there were enough butts in chairs that a wild guess wasn’t worth the trouble. Most of them were humanoid, too, and could easily be a clawdite in disguise.
“Well, guess you’re just stuck with me until your friend comes looking for you.” Tyg gave him an affable shrug. “Or you could tell me a little more about what they’re like. I’ve got a pretty good eye for personality. Like you, for example, I’m betting you’ve got a lot of old friends.” He radiated an easygoing charisma that was designed to put others at ease. They recognized that kind of swagger – lots of people coming through here tried it. This guy pulled it off. Tyg decided she’d keep an eye on him.
“ How about Captain ? “ They shot back, taking a seat in front of the bartender. “ Some ice, thanks. “ they put a hand full of credits over the bar and smiled thankfully, “ It’s Hera. “ she informed, taking the glass gratefully, trying not to grimace from the first sip. She’d had plenty of nights where this was all they had in the galley. “ You got a name ? “
Tyg poured the spotchka over ice and slid it across the table, taking the credits with a wink and a salute. “Sure I do. It’s Tyg, Tyg Selko. Might have heard it if you paid any attention to podracing, say, about thirteen, fourteen years ago. I’m a pilot, myself.” Tyg gave Hera a once-over. They still got ex-Imperial captains at the castle every so often, thanks to Maz’s firmly neutral policy that ‘credits are credits’, but Hera definitely wasn’t the type. Seemed a bit polite for a pirate captain, but then again, so was Maz.“So, Captain Hera. What are you captain of?”
the woman is far too elegant for this place, even in her more natural attire. the way she moves across the dusty steps, glances at rowdy patrons, sidles up to the bar - it is fluid, gracious, practiced. calculated, even, if one looked hard enough, or knew her well enough ( although she had made a habit of shutting others out before they were able to claim that ).
at the nickname, a fleeting shadow of a smile crosses her face, a barest hint of amusement. an acknowledgement, too, with the dip of a head. “just a bubbling water, please.” crisp & educated tone matches her movement, bearing no trace or connection to her true home, signaling instead something higher & far opposite the sewers & silo.
“and an answer to a query, if you have it.”
Tyg takes note of the newcomer’s stride as she approaches the bar. She seems a little out of place – not uncomfortable, there’s no lack of confidence about her – but her precise enunciation confirms Tyg’s suspicions. The woman has class.
“A bubbly water for a bubbly customer,” Tyg jokes. Both of them know she’s far too put-together for that to be a serious comment. She sets an elbow on the bar and leans forward, intrigued by the request. “A query.” A little smirk creeps into their voice at the word choice. “Well, I’ll do what I can. What’s the story?”
her words catch him off guard, turning around to face her, away from the crowd that populated the large room, bustling around tables and throwing cards, chattering in languages he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. all the noise, not to mention the constant pressure of the force in this place, the emotions swirling around him … it was hard to concentrate, much less do anything else.
“me?” he confirms, pointing at himself in case his words were lost over the din. “oh, no thanks, i don’t really drink.” hux would kill him for drinking on the job - although aiya would probably applaud it - but regardless of that punishment, he hadn’t the faintest clue what to even order. sips of engine-room brew was just about all the exposure they’d had to alcohol, the taste so bitter and foul that he was completely fine if he never had any more of it in the rest of their life. there was certainly better stuff out there, but he wasn’t willing to risk it to find out.
“Yes, you.” Tyg grins. The guy looks about their age, but he’s so clearly lost in this environment that they’d easily mistake him for an underage kid sneaking into their first bar. “So? Don’t order a drink then. Or not a drink drink. We got fountain drinks, juice, mineral water from a couple different planets, even milk.” She sets a jug of the blue stuff on the counter.
“So, what brings a guy who doesn’t drink to a bar? You got business here? If you’re meeting somebody I might be able to help you pick ‘em out.”
