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Iritsa
Feb 26, 2013 16:47:48 GMT -8
Post by Shaman Odin Alfodr on Feb 26, 2013 16:47:48 GMT -8
*Iritsa was the capital city of Chazwa.*
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
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Iritsa
Aug 4, 2013 8:45:56 GMT -8
Post by Syren on Aug 4, 2013 8:45:56 GMT -8
*Irista looked like a smudge on the horizon line as it sprawled across the frozen waste. It was the capital city of Chazwa, and primary haven of nefarious deeds planet side. Politicians, smugglers, mercenaries, other such dregs of society all flocked there calling the planet on the edge of a popular hyperspace lane a temporary home.
To the southwest rose the Warehouse District. Just off from the spaceport and The Clog. It was a place packed with cargo waiting to be shipped, and a shady, filthy place to be found in between working hours. Many were the workers moving and loading cargo around. It was a place to avoid with extreme prejudice, if you could avoid it in the dark.
Along the northeast edge, The Clog, barely stood in a meandering line ready to cascade at any moment. The slum stood precariously on leftover materials from the Warehouse District. The lower class of Chazwa resided here. Going day by day, scraping a living from whatever work they could find, usually in the Warehouse District or maybe on a freighter passing through. Many of the residents made up majority of the alien population on Chazwa.
Red monoliths rose from the southeast, silent and brooding in the dusty sunlight filtering through the smog. The Stones were where the wealthy stashed themselves away from the masses of the city. It was a well groomed neighborhood, busy, but not full to bursting along the alleyways and catwalks.
Between the two residential extremes, stood a silent courtyard of white tiles. The Gold Plaza stood as middle ground between The Clog and The Stones. Most often deals and employment could be made, or on occasion the illegal sabbac or pazaak match organized.
This was Chazwa, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Typically the planet was considered a smuggler's paradise situated as it was on the trade routes. Today, it was a shadow of its former self and Reed found that to his liking.
Leelynd Reed sat at his desk staring out the window of his new office where the Warehouse District and the Market butted against one another. The sun was setting on the city and he had decided to treat himself to a Corellian Whiskey on the rocks, straight up. It was a smooth bottle, aged for who cared how many years, only that when it hit the palette it did not taste of wet dog nor did it finish with razor burn down one's throat.
He swished the amber liquid around in the tumbler, thinking, staring, scheming about what exactly he had done, and what he was about to do next.*
The tall, grey-eyed epicanthix slinked down to the turbolift, getting into character by humming a tune or two. It would be a pazaak tournament tonight, there would be girls, and plenty more whiskey passed down from the trade route this morning. He smiled to himself, whistful that he would make a fair bit of money tonight at the table.
He passed a wheequay and ryn dock worker as he looked around for a cab outside the office. They were a dirty, scroungy lot, these aliens. He tried not to wrinkle his nose as they made their way to work on the night shift loading. While Reed was an alien himself, he looked like any other human bursting out of this city. His life was made easier because of it.
His employer had nothing against aliens. Majority of Ser Franziz's work force were aliens. He managed to find an exotic skill base for all of his purposes. Reed found that he enjoyed the selection of girls he employed for his card games the finest of that skill base. Sure, the Ryn and the Wheequay were great for the heavy lifting, or other less desirable jobs, but it sure was hard to top a nice pair of twi'lek dancers or waitresses, as long as headtails didn't bother you. Reed certainly didn't mind so much, as long as the curves were familiar enough in the right spots.
Reed stepped into a cab and headed down to the Gold Plaza. His particular position required a lot of standing around at a street corner, paying off authorities to look the other way, and lead the upstanding citizens of The Stones to their financial demise in a ramshackle building in the center of the market district.
What the building lacked in facade, it certainly made up for in interior design. A luxurious cantina, laid out with various tables for pazaak and sabbac. There were less popular games played there as well, as well as a few back rooms for more intimate engagements. But there was an air of discretion that the wealthy could appreciate upon entering the "Night's Embrace."
The sun had just disappeared behind the throng of buildings off in the west when Reed's cab dropped him in the Gold Plaza. He smiled to himself, something predatory there as well as amicable, as he took up his mightly position in the square. He was not alone. Lesser game coordinators also stood around the perimeter looking for an easy take, and some hopefuls from The Clog still happened to be around waiting for work that would not pass their way. But between them, several of the town cars from The Stones began to approach on their way to the market district.
Franziz had many clients, invitation only, but would also allow in a couple of walk in new comers to every game. Reed met with the invitees in the plaza, and would eventually find some filler high rollers looking to be taken in as well. If he could find no one willing to part with a few credits, he would deal in for the evening and play a few hands.
He offered a wide, and almost genuine smile, to his first client of the night. A Mister and Missus Baligandier, originally from Corellia, but living in Irista because the climate was superior in the summer months and the property taxes so much cheaper. Reed kept his smile as he climbed into the luxury town car and guided their driver to the rendezvous point, then onto the "Night's Embrace."* |
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 229
Traffic Light: Blue
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Iritsa
Aug 9, 2013 13:55:58 GMT -8
Post by Syren on Aug 9, 2013 13:55:58 GMT -8
*Leelynd entered the club with the last of the night's recruits. A walk in hopeful. The engineered winner for the evening. The hook of enticement, but no one would leave unhappy if all went according to plan. The games weren't rigged in any way save for organizing the skills from clients and a little luck.
Reed deposited his cargo, then turned to the bar. While the clientele was a mixed bag of aliens and sex, there seemed to be a high skew towards males. Majority of the wait staff, dealers, and bartenders were therefore skewed female. Reed had no problem with that. The twi'lek behind the bar gave him a smile and started to prepare the Corellian Whiskey he favored.*
"Anyone new Jjalla?" *Reed looked the woman over. The yellow twi'lek thought he was more than a little sleezey, but so were almost all of Frazez's men.
"Couple of dancers in the back. Straight out of the outer rim today. Should be out right around the time all the players look about for some entertainment and less eye strain." Reed grinned and took his drink. He took a swig then smacked a passing waitress on her rear as she passed before flopping into a comfortable chair closest to the high rolling table.
Because he was good at his job, Reed had been given a little license as to his behavior at the club. Most of those under Franzez's employ maintained their composure while the games were going on. Reed's position required him to be a little flamboyant, but it had begun to become a problem. Some of the regular clients were no longer amused by him. But the occasional new fellow found Reed amiable, an asset of course. Still, it was getting harder and harder for Franzez to impress upon the enigmatic Epicanthix that his behavior had to be toned down from time to time.
When there was a pause in the game, the players either flocked to the bar or to the washrooms. The lights dimmed low with a deep throb of music pulsing from speakers along the walls. Reed smiled to himself, new dancing girls were a treat. They came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and species, but there was one girl that Reed had never seen the like of before.
Her face and chest, as well as other bits of her front visible were a creamy white color, but when she turned, her back ran a gambit of blue colors ranging from blacks and purples, to greens and silvers. It all depended on how the light caught on her skin. She swayed like water to the music, or like a snake, Reed really didn't care to make the distinction as he followed her curves and the muscled lines that he could see. She was tall though, not some petite creature, definitely exotic. He stared, looking the woman up and down from tiny breasts to long, never ending legs. Too bad her face was covered by a thin veil. All he could see were purple eyes and high cheek bones. More girls soon replaced her however and the exotic girl was lost to other fancies.
Soon enough, the dancers withdrew from the room and the games began again. Reed smiled again at the bartender as he made his way to a door hidden near the stage. He entered a different world. The hallway was dim, lit with red lighting that helped to preserve night vision. He listened closely to the raucous the dancers caused as they changed. Dames always clucked away like hens when the men were not around. Reed swaggered through a curtain that separated the hall and the dressing room. The girls seemed not to notice him at first, but as he went around pawing at his favorites, they all began to titter or whisper. Some of the new girls shrieked with surprise or smiled bemused.*
"Aw Lee, what are you doing back here tonight? You know what Franzez said after the last time." *A young human woman slapped at Reed's hands as he tried to encircle her with a hug. She seemed upset to see him, though they had seen each other regularly, or as regularly as Reed saw the same woman again. The other girls nodded though and grew silent after she had spoken. Reed made a move to kiss her neck, before he became aware of the silence.*
"No, you will have to refresh my memory." *He purred to her, but she pushed him away. Reed grunted, but turned to the group of new girls, his eyes settling on the exotic one he had spent so much time admiring.* "Or maybe I can have someone else help me freshen up?" *He held his hand out to the woman with a smile* "Leelynd Reed, purveyor of the bodies at all of those card tables. How might I make your acquaintance?"
*The woman shook her head so that the wild tangle of her green hair fell across her shoulders in a cascade. She returned his smile, eerie with teeth too long and too many in a mouth vaguely human looking. Reed almost flinched away at that smile, feeling that there was a predatory nature to it. It was unsettling, like a smile male Twi'leks had just before he was about to swindle you.* "The girls and Ser have been calling me Sy." *She answered coolly.
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 229
Traffic Light: Blue
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Iritsa
Aug 10, 2013 9:58:46 GMT -8
Post by Syren on Aug 10, 2013 9:58:46 GMT -8
*Ser Franzez sat in his office cobbling together lists and ledgers for the games as well as a rough outline for podraces around the inner rim when Sy let herself in. He nodded to her to acknowledge her presence then shuffled through some papers.*"Darish let you in?"*Not much for conversation, Syren nodded her head to a slight degree as to indicate "yes." Franzez turned his eyes back towards her, to actually look at her. She was clothed all in black layers of what material he could not really discern. It looked like a mixture of soft leather and roughspun. A dark cowl was pulled over her head to hide the verdant stream of her hair and shadow her milk white face. She wore gloves to keep her hands out of sight, looking very much the part of human she needed to pull off in the presence of his staff. Franzez had little love for aliens, but they were undeniably useful for some of the more unsavory tasks his organization entertained."I trust that Reed has been dispatched?" *Again she gave the slightest of nods, her mouth set into a grim line beneath the cowl.* "Another mission then." *He growled out in his gravelly voice and tossed her a datacard.
She inserted it into the datapad on her hip, then raised an eyebrow at the information scrolling across the screen.* "Another Reed?" *She asked suspiciously.
It was Franzez's turn to nod this time. She returned to the outline, her frown deepening.* "Franzez, I'm not killing this kid. There's a line I draw. You'll have to get Diadema or one of your other assassins to do this job." *She threw the datacard back on his desk.
Ser turned his black eyes up to her face, a stern look growing cold upon it.* "I don't believe you have a say in this, Syren." *At first the spark along the collar was a warning tingle just before there was a long arc of pain emitting from the shock collar. Syren doubled over clawing at the device around her neck with a long growl and a feral hiss.
Franzez gave her a cold smile as he rose from his seat. He sauntered gently towards a cargo crate in the corner of the room. He tapped his fingers along the edge of the mind prison.* "When my crew found you near dead in that shuttle, I was strangely disappointed that a Jedi would be so easily caught." *The shock had been minor, but it had left Syren reeling on the floor, twitching as her sensitive nervous system allowed the charge to continue wracking through her body. But still, he knew she could hear him.* "With the Empire eradicating your order, I was of course hard pressed to find a lab rat. But you were the perfect specimen for my newly acquired toy!" *Franzez looked like he might squeal with delight from the memory.* "Truly extraordinary how this device works, particularly for your unique species. It strips your Force powers, and traps a portion of your mind! From my reading, it is supposed to strip the mind completely... but not in you. Your mind was already fractured and trapped in itself, no? So this broken piece of you is still useful. Oh so very useful." *He stepped away from the box, and came very close to Syren's face. He slapped her hard, just to make sure that she was paying attention. "You will do whatever I ask. I hold your mind in a precarious spot. Surely the part trapped within the box is steadily going mad. If you want to recover it, you will do what I tell you to do." *He bent down once more, pulling her hair so that her face turned up towards his.* "Do you understand?" *She gave the briefest of nods, then Franzez threw her back down to the floor along with the information on the datapad. He took his seat and waved for her dismissal.* "I'm glad we understand one another." The Story Continues here.
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 229
Traffic Light: Blue
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Iritsa
Aug 14, 2013 16:43:59 GMT -8
Post by Syren on Aug 14, 2013 16:43:59 GMT -8
*Ser Franzez sat in his private booth observing the show below. They were dulcet tones, and the male Twi'lek was stealing the show as he walked across the stage in drag. Ser observed with a mild disdain, but the show brought in a lot of money from both the Clog and the Stones.*
"...I'm just a sweet transvestite, from transexual, Transylvannia!"
*The chorus chimed in with a refrain and the dance number started hopping again. This was yet another one of Franzez's clubs. Since Chazwa was currently his base of operations, he had several businesses across Irista. The other cities were not much of which to speak, small potatoes and protection assets, but that was all.
Ser was waiting to meet someone, but he had to endure this deplorable show. Yet the throngs below ate it up, including their own lines, dancing and singing with this stick thin Twi'lek man posing as Dr. Frank N. Furter. The big man sighed and simple drank more deeply from his whiskey tumbler.*
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Way Too Many Characters
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
You want the Honoghr? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE HONOGHR!!!
Posts: 103
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Iritsa
Sept 7, 2013 3:08:13 GMT -8
Post by Way Too Many Characters on Sept 7, 2013 3:08:13 GMT -8
Her name is Murie. No surname, no middle name. Murie isn’t even her birth name. She doesn’t remember what it was anymore. It was given to her by the only man who cared for her during her time as a near-mindless slave, a Zeltron named Abin Sul. He and his family adopted her after her liberation from the hutts on Yavin IV’s station, during a failed attempt to infiltrate her into the Jedi as a student, while spying on the Jedi through her eye. Although freed physically, she was far from free mentally. Having lived virtually her entire life as a slave, Murie has no concept or understanding of freedom, nor the ability to think for herself. But, through patience, and some difficult rehabilitation, the girl is eventually able to develop a sense of independence, though it is believed she will never fully recover or truly be free, as until now, she still does not realize what has been done to her is an atrocity. Still, it is believed any true challenge she faces can be overcome with her immense power in the Force. Indeed, there were very few peers amongst the Jedi that could match her volume, not that she is prone to showing off, nor would she truly be able to become a knight.
Thus, as her training reached its end, and as her adoptive family has taught her all that they can possibly teach her, the very young girl finally decides to risk venturing out on her own. Although Abin Sul and his family were most vocal about their reluctance in letting her go out alone anywhere, the Jedi were of the belief, her only chance to gain true sentience, and independence, is to be independent, and to trust that she knows enough now to defend herself, and learn from her own mistakes. To this end, the girl is provided an ageing BTL Y-wing starfighter to travel about with. After a tearful farewell with her family and the Jedi of Yavin, Murie flew into the stars. Using the craft, Murie gradually reached the planet Chazwa, where with the desire to continue her travels, but requiring more credits to fuel her fighter, she finds work as a waitress at a cantina. The pay is modest, but with her friendliness and looks, she can sometimes earn large tips from a few charmed customers, and her employer is kindly enough to let her keep most of her tips, along with no charge for her food and lodgings, allowing her to save up quickly. It’s only a matter of time before she will be able to travel again. Though to where she would go remains a question.
It is time for another day, so Murie sets about waiting at tables after she finished cleaning them.
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Iritsa
Sept 13, 2013 5:47:38 GMT -8
Post by Zik Kine on Sept 13, 2013 5:47:38 GMT -8
*Zik had been on Chazwa for a week. The jedi turned vigilante had frequented all manner of places, from gentlemen clubs, to all manner of seedy bars across Iritsa. He was looking for specific information, and so far he hadn't found any. He had been roaming space ways, picking off slaver ships and assaulting bases for almost a year now. But now, he grew hungry. Zik took it as a sign that it was time to sit back and relax a bit.
The echani man stepped into a dinner and took it upon himself to find a seat. He looked down at the menu and contemplated what to order, but as he looked up to find the waitress, he saw more then he bargained to find here. His eyes fell on Murie and seemed to gloss over a bit as he saw something in her that he used to have in himself. Though they weren't visible to the naked eye, Murie carried the weight of chains that Zik himself had been all too familiar with. It was said that even once free from a master, a slave was never truly free, and if someone who knew how to break that cycle didn't offer Murie help soon, it might be too late. But there was more then chains, as his silver eyes came back to normal, he saw the spark of the Force within her. He put on a smile and raised his hand, waving her over.*
Miss? When you have a moment to come over here...
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Way Too Many Characters
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
You want the Honoghr? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE HONOGHR!!!
Posts: 103
Affiliation: Affiliations
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Iritsa
Sept 13, 2013 6:25:59 GMT -8
Post by Way Too Many Characters on Sept 13, 2013 6:25:59 GMT -8
Murie straightens up when she sees a customer calling for her. For a moment, her eyes connected with his, and there is a strange flash of light (one that only a trained Force-Sensitive would be able to perceive), splayed all around her in a chaotic frenzy of bright colors, like a rainbow aura. If this is a deliberate action from Murie, she doesn’t show it. More than likely it is a reflex, or just a sign of something. However, that flurry of light and power must be some form of indication about what is stored within her. She remembers her standard training and greeting, and pulls out a datapad from the pocket of her apron, she smiles pleasantly at Zik, “Welcome to Jupe’s Diner, honored patron. How may I serv-” she blinks and quickly corrects herself, “What would you like today, maste...”
She blinks again, twice this time. Despite her many months of rehabilitation, it is difficult for her to not refer to everyone else as master, and she nearly did it again. Quickly composing herself, and never once letting her smile falter, she corrects her slight with, “...sir?”
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