mazs-cantina: @mazs-cantina
“Let me get you a drink. Much too tense. Going to give you forehead lines to mimic that mask, and far before your time. You’re a good looking young man under there, don’t fuck it up.” She poured him a rum and coke, “Oops, you did always like extra marachino cherries, didn’t you Ben?” She plunked in three.
“Now what’s this about a pod racer?” Nearly anyone who was anyone in the universe had heard rumors of the young man’s obsession with his grandfather. “We do have a dealer in questionable antiques staying at the castle right now, name of Tanaris. But he’s never up before midnight, why don’t you take a seat.”
The young man went red behind his freckles, fists clenching as she popped the extra cherries in, watching them bob and fizz in the drink as though it was a personal insult.
He wasn’t surprised. Before their... falling out... he had come here once or twice with his Father or Chewie or Both. Things had changed since then. Maz, though, certainly hadn’t. It was all he could do to sit stiffly at the bar and not lash out, demanding to see this Tanaris immediately, asleep or not. Midnight... by local time, that was hours from now. He had hoped to make this a quick excursion, but fate had other plans, it would seem.
His choices now lay between taking the drink, or speaking to Maz. Or possibly both, which was even more unfavorable than just one.
“When... did you see him last? Father.” He tried to look indifferent as he examined the glass, checking it, and the ice for cleanliness.