Nar Shaddaa

After paying his entry into the the arena Z made his way towards the betting booth, aiming to place his wager, he had recieved 700 credits from the Remmy fellow, and with that kind of money on the match he was willing to place a few hundred of his own, before moving to his seat.

The man's team had better win.

((Placing 900 credits on 'The Valkyrie' to win the game. 50 credits entrance fee, 25 from Z another 25 from Remmy)

Layne had heard there was a Huttball match on, and as a way to ease off the day's pressures, decided to go and watch. And when she saw a familiar face or two on the roster, she decided to make a bet. Because why the hell not; she'd just come into some money and could use more. So she moved to place a bet, and then found herself a seat.

Which was probably coincidentally right next to or behind Zanebry's seat. But that wasn't really much of a coincidence because you had to sit somewhere and the two of them didn't know each other.

((50 credits entrance free, 500 credit bet on 'The Valkyrie' PC team))

Zane glanced up from the field as the seat next to him was taken, and after a moment he offered the young woman a polite smile in greeting. "Good evening, Miss." He said as he slipped his own gambling chit back into his pocket.

She was no miss. Not in the sense that you'd use such civilized terminology for someone who was obviously a sith of the intense variety. No high society dress for her, just the robes and armor of a warrior. When she was nonetheless greeted, Layne belatedly looked over a brief expression of 'you fucking want some?!' on her face before she gave a casual nod.

"Sup."

He resisted the urge to sigh, this was going to be a long game, he felt it in his bones. Still he tried to make the best of things, flagging over one on the drink vendors he turned back towards her. "Oh, just getting ready to watch the Valkyrie's I heard they might be a good team." He didn't pay much mind to her distasteful look, honestly he half expected it after noticing she was sith.

"Well," she turned her gaze back to the field. "They're led by a dork. But I'd bet on Sith against random players any day."

So Mr. Thalalas was a dork.... Well at least that meant he probably wasn't genocidal. Which seemed to be the case at least as far as this sith was concerned. Maybe someone should take her lightsword away and send her to finishing school?

"That does sound wise." He offered, paying for his drink as it arrived, and takign a sip. beer wasn't his thing but it would do.

With the match beginning, Layne leaned forward; smirking when Remmington got tackled. And seeming even more pleased when she noticed Jo'Ren on the field as well. The odds just went up.

"Yessss," she hissed and pumped her fist.

"Someone else you know?" He asked, setting aside his beer for a moment and reaching in his pocket. A moment later he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter intending to light one up.

She leaned back, satisfied that her bet seemed secure.

"That was a good goal," she said. "Capable sith too. Don't know any of the others."



((was supposed to have mentioned the 'yesss' was when he scored))

"It was." He agreed before lightning up his cigarette, taking a drag before continuing. "Do you watch a lot of Huttball then?"

"No, but I saw a match when I was here the last time, a few months ago."

She glanced in his direction for a moment.

"Aren't you a little overdressed for deathsticks."

"It's not a deathstick." He said with a chuckle. "Those things will kill you. Never seen a cigarette?"

"I enjoy the sport myself, don't get to see as many games as I'd like tgough."

"Whatever," she replied in typical teenage fashion when he told her what it really was. "Well it's not even a real sport. But it's mildly entertaining."

"Want to try one?" He asked, in his best terrible adult impression.

"What would you call a real sport then?" He trailed off. "Sorry I think he missed a step there. I'm Berry."

"What, your parents hate you or something, naming you after a tiny ball of fruit? Whatever. I don't really care about sports or cigarettes. One's just a distraction, and the other is completely useless."

"Well I can't really say, I never asked them what they were thinking." He said with a easy smile before slipping the cigarettes back into his pocket.

"Suit yourself." He offered simply before taking a long drag, letting the smoke drift into the air a,few moments latter.