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[indent][indent][color=lightgray]Jarren felt the cold material of the cup meet with his lips and raised an arm to take another sip. It was less like the man was pressing the glass against his face, and more like he was shoving it around and his mouth just happened to be there. Was it normal to feel like everything was going to collapse in on itself and that he had to run away? It was like a sixth sense at this point.

He lost track of how much time it'd been since his very first disappearance, from his home planet after everyone had decided he was a murderer after credits were placed in the right pockets. It had been long enough to where he could get a drink, but short enough that he caught himself slipping from the facade of having it all together. A big part of it was the rush of the galactic trail though. It was honestly hard to believe he'd spent so much of his life moving from office to office, kept satisfied by the increasingly expensive decorative plants and plaques typical of a politician on an upswing. This new life of his was just so much wilder. 

[color=cyan]"I'll have another,"[/color] he said, smooth and to the point. These seedy bartenders didn't like it when you put on a show. They had more scars on them than the soldiers back home did, and could smell hesitation a planet away. Jarren didn't mind it one bit. It made the sweet talk a lot more exciting, after all. 

He pointed a blue finger at one of the vendors nearby. [color=cyan]"Is he seriously trying to pass off that pathetic excuse for a blaster for six-hundred?"[/color] The human bartender he was talking to seemed less than pleased that Jarren had picked her as a surprise conversational partner, but he was too many drinks in to care. [color=cyan]"You probably couldn't even tickle an ewok with one of those." [/color]
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