fandomhigh | Laying Low for Beginners, Thursday, Period 1

"Okay," Kanan said breezily, leaning against the control panel in the Danger Shop and grinning a little, "now that we've all seen more macramé than any of us ever wanted to see in our entire lives, we can get back to the fun stuff that doesn't involve gremlin wrangling."

He flipped a switch on the panel, and suddenly he was behind a bar, the entire room taking on the appearance of a dirty, somewhat crowded cantina. Behind the bar there was a hallway that probably led to storage rooms, restrooms, and the like. There was also meant to be a set of stairs leading to an upstairs apartment at the end of the hall, but this simulation didn't really need one, so he'd left it out.

"Welcome to the Asteroid Belt. In its day it was, by a very scant margin, probably the cleanest Cantina on all of Gorse. We'd actually wipe out the drinking glasses." Gorse was a charming planet, really, and they were parked smack-dab in the perpetual night side. Because the day side was a molten inferno not even hospitable to most droids. "Most of the clientele consists of miners and freighter pilots coming over from Cynda to wind down after a long, hard day working the moon, and if that doesn't tell you how rowdy it can get in here, nothing will. Of course, rowdiness leads to the occasional brawl, because what would a good cantina be without the occasional brawl."

He raised his eyebrows as a trio of Stormtroopers, armored and dressed in white, came in through the front door and started looking around the room. Kanan had changed up the sim slightly since the last time he'd taught this class, yes. No reason.

"These guys," Kanan continued, "are the Empire's Stormtroopers. You'll have to trust me when I say they're a little more driven than the clones here in town, and while you're not entirely sure if it's you that they're here for, you'd probably rather not find out. The Empire's got a bad track record for disappearing the people it's looking for. You've got a back exit, which they might or might not have another Trooper posted at. You've got a supply closet down that hallway. There are plenty of other delightfully inebriated patrons to get lost in or around. Hell, if you're really smooth, you might even be able to talk them down. Judging by the way they're asking questions around the room, they might not even know what you look like. But you can't get arrested and you can't fight 'em. Fighting 'em is just going to bring hell down on your heads, and there won't be any more coming back for anybody, then."

A beat.

"And besides, it's kind of against the spirit of the whole class."

Please don't be Dante. If Kanan ever had to teach another Dante again, he would be very put out.

[OOC: OCD is up, class is in session!]

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Uma grimaced as Kanan passed the drink to her, making sure to hold it as far from herself as possible.

"Perfect," she said, looking about as cheerful as someone could while trying not to breathe through their nose. "I'll take those beers as soon as I get back."

She made her way over to one of the red-robed guys, pausing a few yards away to adopt the rolling gait of a drunk as she bobbed-and-weaved her way across the floor until she got close enough to her mark.

Oh no. Now that fine, red robe had a hearty splash of something noxious all down the front. Uma was babbling apologies, wide-eyed and innocent, offering her other, non-disgusting drink in exchange for the robe, making gestures about going to wash the stink right out.

And Kanan sat back and watched, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning outright at the show.

Hey. Blood cultist robes. One of the most convenient disguises on Gorse, if that was the angle she was aiming for. He'd done that one once himself, in fact.

The fouled robe for an expensive drink seemed an easy enough trade and soon Uma had her arms full of red, and headed back for the bar. "Here," she said, tossing it onto the bar. "Hang onto this a sec, will you? Blah blah blah, making it look like I'm asking you about washing this." She glanced in the reflection of the bottles, waiting to see when the cultist finally took his eyes off her, turning them towards his glass.

"Finally," she muttered. "Okay, beers for part two. Might wanna keep your head down."

Uma had been starting fights with drunken pirates since she was old enough to hold a tray. Good way to make a few bucks, honestly. No one paid attention to the contents of their wallets while they were getting punched. She was pretty sure a bar full of weird aliens wouldn't be much different.

Kanan picked up the corner of the robe, inspected the alcohol spreading through the fabric, and wrinkled his nose a little before nodding and tucking it away behind the counter and turning to pour a couple of beers.

"Head down, huh? I think I like where this is going."

Uma grinned at him. "I know the type," she said, grabbing the mugs in one practiced hand. "Keep that robe handy, all right?"

Okay, so this was going to take some doing. It helped that she was short and they were drunk, but she couldn't depend on both of those to keep her from notice. She slid between two hulking aliens with their backs to each other and at the last moment, flung the contents of one mug directly at one of their...necks? Sure, she'd go with that analogue.

The fight broke out immediately, but she didn't stay to watch. Rule number 1: never hang around admiring your own handiwork. The next one, she took the direct approach. "Sorry to do this, chummer," she said to another big, mean-looking alien. She jerked her thumb towards another one and shrugged apologetically. "This is from him." Even if she didn't speak enough English to understand why there was a mug of beer getting emptied in her face, the pantomime should be enough to explain, especially since Uma was scuttling away before she had enough time to clear the beer from her several pairs of eyes.

Bouncing the steins off of two other patrons from the depths of the crowd was more for fun than anything else, but hey. It paid to be thorough. There were multiple fights starting as she made her way back to the bar that might even converge into one big one if no one took steps. "M'robe, please."

And Kanan was just grinning outright as he held the robe out for her to take.

"That was masterful," he chuckled, watching as the troopers temporarily abandoned their mission in order to make a futile attempt to get people to settle down. "Now get outta here before they get their attention back on the doors, hm?"

"That's the plan," she said, shrugging the robe on. "Though if any of them stop me, they'll probably remember the stink and the robe way better than they'll remember me."

And then she was weaving her way through the crowd, past the cultist who was snoring loudly on the surface of the table, drink clutched in his hand, and out the door.

Thanks, long years at the shop. Who knew you'd ever come in handy?

Laying Low for Beginners, Thursday, Period 1

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Re: Deal with the Troopers!