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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Binder Fred" data-source="post: 5854668" data-attributes="member: 63746">"Sure, sure... Say this heap wouldn't happen taw have a pool, would it?"As a matter of fact, it does <correct me if I'm wrong here, Possum>. Just a little down the corridor behind their collective quarters, as a matter of fact, but..."Frek." It's a frekking open air affair, with rounded roofs slopping down over a narrow walkaround supported by a few strategically-placed stone pillars. That leaves the entire watery part exposed to the elements: no bulkheads, forcefields or even emergency handles to grab in case of hull breach or gravity fail or something... Frekking planets! On the plus side, this early in the morning he's got the whole place to himself, so... "Frek it."Clothes and weapons go on one or the other of TB's spindly metal limbs, a deep breath, and then it's a much anticipated dive, the water parting in a sea of bubbles before him! Ahhh Frek that's good![Later on]Sloor grabs one of the server and orders an industrial quantity of Cooldown: nothing like ice mushrooms to dampen down the serious headache he's got building under the armor plates right now. "Frek if that last bawttle wasn't mandalawrian Tihaar. Dried me up like the desert! Haw are you spirks hawlding up?"<Response any?>Sloor grimaces: why'd he have to bring *that* ugly concept into it? But, "I'll gaw recawnawiter a bit," he agrees. He'd been eyeing the scene already anyway. The besalisk gets up and then quietly sidles up to the nemoidian majordomo for a bit of low key info-sharing: "Saw what's the deal here, Demaws man? Who are these spirks?" He takes a thoughtful bite of out of his haunch of... some sort of fleshy crab maybe? Frek if he knows. Nicely salty/spicy though.<Response Demos?>"And is there anything taw their whining?"<Response Demos?></blockquote>

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