A lone, well-kept Bug fighter melts into real space not far from the bar's orbit.
It careens a little too quickly down towards the building, circling in a wide arc above it as if trying to decide whether or not to land. Whoever is piloting the ship seems to be having difficulty doing so very smoothly, but eventually it does wobble itself down towards the far end of the gravel parking area--where there is much more room for a ship to land without hitting anything.
After a lengthy pause the lights fade to darkness, and a man in his early-thirties steps down the ramp, staring wide-eyed up at the strange sky.
He seals the ship and weaves his way through the graveyard of dead and half-living ships, marveling at some of the machinery that is very much alive and very foreign to his sensibilities.
His black boots crunch along the gravel as he approaches the bar, and he keeps his Dracon at his side holster, stuck to the belt of his faded jeans. His crimson--or perhaps it was once crimson--polo shirt looks like it has seen better days, and it is smudged with black oil stains that simply will not come out. He is tall and skinny, with pale skin and an angular, amiable face. The most striking thing about his appearance, as he steps cautiously into the very Earth-like building on a very alien planetoid, is the mess of brown ringlets that sprout from his head. His curly hair frames his face and ends just short of his shoulders, and he pushes it out of his wary brown eyes as he inspects the bar's occupants.
The sea of strangers--some of whom are dressed in armor or other clothing that smacks of a lack of humanity--makes him frown, and when he spots the Andalite his heart nearly stops in his chest. He briefly considers stepping back out the door, until he spots Terenia's familiar face.
Skirting around the Andalite with a wide a berth as he can give, he makes his way towards her seat at the bar, staring at the thing to which she is talking.
"Terenia," he breathes with relief, eyes wide as saucers. "Thank God you're here, I didn't expect...would you look at this place?" He laughs, looking around, his eyes meeting Jocun's gaze briefly before stopping at Parker's form again. "Sorry, but what the hell are you?" His thumb runs along the edge of his Dracon, cautiously.
