Kris Rietsveld | The Damsel (thecorrupt) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-05-06 15:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: coruscant, kaz brekker, sinjir fel |
pour gasoline on me / oh, yes, i burn slow
Who: Kaz & Sinjir.
What: Work discussions and lessons in blaster mods both go better with alcohol.
When: About a week after this.
Where: Coruscant
Rating: PG?
Sinjir strolled into the bar only fifteen minutes late. He was monumentally proud of this, given the amount of time he had spent before the mirror, trying on and throwing aside an embarrassing number of outfits. His attentiveness had served him well: he cut a striking figure in his black trousers and a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He raked a hand through his hair, letting it fall back into its perfectly tousled mess. Tonight was for work, they had agreed, and Sinjir had every intention of trying to be good. But that was no reason to slouch on his appearance.
The room was crowded. He moved through the throng with a determined sort of grace, deftly avoiding stumbling patrons and drink-laden waitresses alike. He slid past a number of booths and tables, peering into each alcove as he searched for his friend.
Kaz was ensconced in one near the back, facing outward so he could see all comers. Gloved and dressed in his usual business attire, he looked as pieced together as he ever was. The empty table before him held promise, his ever-present cane leaned against one corner.
He spotted Sinjir weaving through the throng of bodies and raised a hand to catch his attention. Sinjir waved back and quickened his steps.
"I see you didn't start without me," he said, slipping into the bench seat across from Kaz.
As if to disprove his statement, a waitress appeared and dropped a tumbler of brandy in front of Kaz. The recipient nodded his gratitude to the server, then looked pointedly at Sinjir.
"I was waiting, but then I thought I'd nurse my bruised ego over being forgotten," he replied in an amused tone, wrapping one hand around the glass. Sinjir's lips thinned into a failed attempt at a frown.
"Get you something, hun?" The waitress waited at the edge of the table, looking as cheerful as Kaz did dour.
"Whatever he's having," Sinjir said. "And I hope it's expensive."
"You got it, sweetie," she said. She left with a bright smile and a flick of her hair.
"Forgotten." Sinjir scoffed. "Hardly. I just had to make myself presentable. This is business. A man needs to look the part, right?"
Kaz's eyes raked downward over Sinjir's form, then nodded. "You certainly look presentable. Punctuality is important, however." He took a sip, his lips curling around his teeth for a moment. "Forewarn me now if this is going to be a constant. I'd rather make good use of that wasted time, rather than sitting around waiting."
"I wouldn't call it a constant. I'm usually on time or early, as I'm sure you'll remember from our first meetings. But sometimes things happen." He gave an airy shrug. "If it makes you feel better, I swear that I will do my best to keep you from waiting, and when you must exercise patience, be sure I'll make it worth your while."
A grin appeared on Kaz's face. "My time is valuable, so yes, I'd appreciate that." He passed his glass from one hand to another. "Though you're right -- one time out of three is not terribly indicative of tardiness.
"I suppose I was a little worried you'd reconsidered, given how I made you wait during our last encounter." The amused tone was shaved back, worry replacing it, and something else. His grin tempered.
There was a brief silence as the waitress returned, glass in hand. Sinjir waited until she was gone, then waved dismissively. "If I'd changed my mind you'd know it," he said. "I don't really do passive aggression." He curled his hands around his glass, thumbs idly stroking the sides. "And I'm much harder to get rid of than that. You'll see."
"Yes, you're definitely coming off as tenacious. I'm glad you are; I've been told I can be difficult to get along with," Kaz replied, taking another sip. He hurried the last remark along with more words, his voice low amid the establishment's chatter; he fixed Sinjir with a soft gaze. "I'm more curious about this business you're proposing. I'm guessing I would be delivering more supplies, and shipping the completed...products out?"
Sinjir let the comment pass, though his widening grin made plain the fact it had not slipped his notice. He nodded, licking his lips following a lengthy pull from his own glass. "I plan on producing more in the coming months," he said. "Larger in quantity and in scale. I can't give you a production schedule because I can't be sure I'll stick to it. But my goal is that within the year I'll have a steady supply incoming and outgoing. Some will already have buyers lined up. I'd just need you to be the go-between. The majority will still be sold to approved buyers, as before."
Kaz's gaze fell to his glass, swirling it. "How are you hiring your workers? You can't be producing everything yourself."
"Of course I am," Sinjir said. "Small parts, circuitry, odd materials… I can outsource those little things. There's not much to fuck up there. But the finer and final work is all mine. As things ramp up that might change, but I'll deal with that when it happens."
A surprised look passed over Kaz's face, his whole body following the expression. "When do you sleep?"
Sinjir shrugged. "Now and then." He laughed. "Usually in transit or in between jobs. Catnaps here and there when I'm really caught up in working on something. Then I sort of crash for a while after a big job. There's just too much to do, you know? Sleep can wait."
Kaz smiled, shaking his head as he took another drink. "You're certainly setting a new standard for being a workaholic. I thought I had bad habits."
He canted his head in Sinjir's direction; the fingers on one hand twitched. "Where do you usually work?"
"I have a few workshops around. A couple here on Coruscant, actually. I own one of them, and the other is a friend's place. She has the industrial-grade equipment I need for some... very specific kinds of work. I try to keep a balance of my own space and others'. Spread the liability around." He chuckled, his smile disappearing behind the upturned rim of his glass.
Torn between wanting to ask and probably being better off not knowing, Kaz decided on the former. "And are those specific kinds of work something you shouldn't be discussing in a crowded bar like this?"
"To be perfectly honest, I probably shouldn't discuss them anywhere." He leaned down over the table, pulling the glass in toward his chest. His voice dropped to as near a whisper as it could get given their surroundings. "I could show you, if you'd like."
If there was one thing Kaz liked more than credits, it was secrets. And secrets offered in a voice like that, from a face like Sinjir's, made the trembling in his hands all the worse. Kaz downed the rest of his drink, gritting his teeth as the liquor burned his throat. It matched the heat he felt elsewhere. He met Sinjir's eyes evenly.
"I'd like that very much."
"So would I." Sinjir's smile had turned positively wolfish. He tossed back the better part of his remaining brandy, then set the glass down with a clink. He did not move back from his place, still leaning as though ready to pounce across the narrow table.
"I don't show these things to just anyone," he said. "If there's anything else you want to know about this business, you should probably ask. We go any farther with this and some people would call you an accomplice."
"It's not a title I'm unfamiliar with," Kaz replied. He reached into his pocket and fished out a handful of credits for their drinks, the sound of them clinking onto the table like music. "And I learn better through experience. I'm not the sort to frighten easily. You'll find I can be driven to learn when I find a subject that interests me."
He looked from the currency on the table to the man sitting across from him. "It just so happens I'm free the rest of this evening. No better time than the present, wouldn't you say?"
Sinjir answered by finishing his drink and rising from the booth in one single motion. He smoothed a hand down his shirt front. He waited by the table's edge, taking a single step closer to Kaz's side. "I'm a hands-on learner, myself," he said. "You might say that's my approach to teaching, too. We'll get to her shop and I'll show you a few things. See what sparks your interest. Sound good?"
Kaz merely nodded in reply, going a little slower to rise from the booth. He picked up his cane with his right hand, setting the tip of it firmly on the floor. Once on his feet, he motioned for Sinjir to lead the way.