Qar was riding slowly through the seedy neighbourhood, watchful for any telltale signs of where to find a certain clubhouse.

Average perception check, with a setback.

No telltale signs, but...

EE3. Perception. Setback.: 1eP+2eA+2eD+1eS 0 successes, 2 advantage


[Advantages to keep the plot going in some other way.]

Looking around as he makes his way about the lower city he does see a building that seems to be something alike a rest stop, for what the people of the lower city can muster together. What's most important is it at least has a place where he can keep his bike in full few while he stops over.

Seemed like a decent place to ask for directions.

He slowed down to park neatly at the place, seeing no point in engine-roaring show-offs given the circumstances. He looked around for 'ask for directions' options among people stopping over, lighting a cig.

Inside the nearby building there are a few local men lined up along a bar with a small generator running, a couple of floodlights light up the place from within. Across the bar there's a fourth whom at the moment is tinkering with an old droid-on-rails. A fifth, however, walks outside after shouting something to the others and walks out toward what used to be an old curb. Lighting up a cigar once he reached it and looking out to the dark space up above.

Qar decided to follow the lone guy.

"Enjoying the night or expecting copper drones?"

"Copper drones?" he quirked a brow as he looked over toward Qar, freshly lit cigar in his hand.

"Drones coppers use." Qar lit a cig of his own. "Though you likely call them differently here?"

"Troopers don't come out this way," the man looked to Qar, but the cig was lit before the man could offer. Using that span of time to give him a onace over he grumbled to himself quietly about something. "Not many folk find anything of worth down here, Empire most of all. They keep to their clinic and not much else."

"It doesn't make it a no man's land, does it?" He mused, puffing. "Someone gotta lay down the rules."

"Folk tend to take care of one another down here, when and where they can. Threat of the gonks," he pauses and works up enough to spit in the general direction of the gonk territories, "do well enough to keep most folk honest in their attempts to help. Most of us ain't got no where else to go, so best to be liked by your neighbor."

"Course, there's the Tunnel Snakes, gangers that do their part to keep themselves and folk around 'em protected here and there. Most reason some folk think the gonks haven't completely taken over already- not that I agree."

"Yeah." He agreed on the gonk thing. "So the Tunnel Snakes ain't that much? What do they do to keep things going?"

"Whatever most gangs like them get up to, I figure," he shrugs.

"Like street racing?" Qar tried.

"Sure- on occasion. Swoops come rushing by this spot actually," he gives a point over toward the road, further from the residential area and near where the buildings started to be considered the ruins. "Was a bigger deal back in the day but.. Empire changed a lot of things."

Qar spat through his teeth at the mention of racing being clamped down.

"Is it where they meet to race still, over there?"

"Could always check in with them.." he gives a glance to their area, making a mental map in his head. "Go down this way.." he then offers a semi-complicated description of where Qar would have to go. Making a few notes of how since they're on the edge of the Residential area it's a little dangerous in a few places and offering some alternate route choices that are a bit safer.

"Thanks, man. I owe you a drink. Name's Qar. I expect to be around more often, so we'll surely meet."

He nodded to the man, then smashed the cig butt with his boot, being ready to go.

"I'll keep it in mind, Qar," he said with a nod. Taking a good and long drag of his own cigar. "Make sure to get my drink next time I see ya," he chuckles and goes back to looking out over the street.