[ Poe wanders in wearing something as close to the standard-issue browns of a casual uniform as he could find, a fresh leather jacket thrown on against the cold. He's not particularly focused as he scans the bar--he still has that list in his head, running like a mantra.
Muran. Lampar. Kun. Asty. Arana. Furillo. Meltsa. Seastriker. Teffer. Wright.
Blame yourself and you'll wish you'd died too, he thinks, with irony.
That's about when his meandering search finds Cassian at the bar. He slides onto a stool next to the man. ]
no subject
Muran. Lampar. Kun. Asty. Arana. Furillo. Meltsa. Seastriker. Teffer. Wright.
Blame yourself and you'll wish you'd died too, he thinks, with irony.
That's about when his meandering search finds Cassian at the bar. He slides onto a stool next to the man. ]
So you saw that mess.