He sat for a while and took in the scene. He studied the tenants and groups sitting around, searching for clues.
Someone seemed to be walking toward him. Tyrrazapon made his eyes into slits and studied. Seemed like a lowlife, no one really important. He had graying hair and seemed like he hadn't cleaned up in a while.
The man helped himself to a seat opposite Tyrrazapon.
"Well, well, well. You people are becoming a regular occurrence around here," the gray-haired man mused.
You people? Why does everyone say that?
"That seems to be the popular belief around here," Tyrrazapon glared. He already didn't like this clown. He wasn't anythin different from the sludge that hung out in Mos Eisley.
"You lookin' for the same guy? You're a little behind, but perhaps I could help you out," the man seemed amused by Tyrrazapon's presence.
"I think you're a liar. I also have no idea what guy you're referring to, but perhaps you could help me find these other types of people you and the barkeep seem to think I belong to," Tyrrazapon leaned forward and allowed his eyes to show, almost black. The man seemed to lean back and lost his cheesy grin.
"Uh... How much you go--"
"Hey man! We gotta go! They're on their way back, we've got 'em trapped!" someone had grabbed the man in the booth and was attempting to pull him up. They obviously knew each other. The other man didn't seem to notice Tyrrazapon.
"Catch you later hoody," gray-hair said.
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