Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239 
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 14, 2013 4:43:45 GMT -8
“You could have woken me up...uhm...I wouldn’t mind.” I simply say, and scratch the back of my head nervously. I loosen up my posture a little, as I doubt he’s inclined to kill me anymore, and in a more...conversational mood. Besides, if I really need to make a run for it. I’m strong enough to make a hole through the walls….okay, not such a good idea. I like my ship. My eyes dart towards the door out of the room. He’s sitting next to it, but like I said, if I really needed to get out, it’s not like I’m slow or anything. I can be gone before he even knows it...oh wait, he’s stronger and faster than me. Hmm...did he ask me something? Oh, right.
“You’re in my ship.” I gesture with my hands outstretched to either side of me. “It’s a Corona-class unarmed frigate. I uhm...call it unarmed because uh...while the stock version is supposed to be armed, mine’s been removed of it, but it’s got a souped up engine, hyperdrive, shielding and armor. Including Impervium….I’m babbling. Sorry.”
I press the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. This is why I do not have friends. I bore people to death, which makes me wonder if my family – if I have any – would even want me back. I mean, maybe they’re glad I’m gone. Okay, enough depression for one day. Tend to the guy, who will probably either want to kill me later or run for his life swearing never to see me again.
But there is plenty of things I can think of that I would like to know from him. I suppose, with me being so socially awkward, I might as well shoot my mouth and hope for the best. It’s not like I know any better anyhow, so this either works, or it doesn’t. And I guess it’ll only be fair for us to...trade information. I think we might have a lot more in common than either of us realize.
“So...about our uh...first meeting.” When I’m nervous I have a habit of gripping my left wrist and rubbing it. Probably a kind of reflex I developed after growing back the pinky finger I lost on that hand. “Why...why were you trying so hard to kill that guy?”
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Post by Seven on Aug 14, 2013 21:50:12 GMT -8
"It was my mission." He said, as if that was all the answer one would need to completely understand the situation he'd been in and the reasons behind it. He had listened to her talk with an odd fascination, soaking in her words like a dry sponge soaks in water, and now he couldn't help but wonder about some of the unfamiliar words she had used. Against his better judgment, asking irrelevant questions had always gotten him punished before, he decided to speak up. "What's a frigate? And Impervium? It sounds intimidating." He had a plethora of other questions just about the short statements she'd made since waking, but decided to stick to just those two for now and see whether or not he'd get punished for it. She hasn't been anything like my master so far, so maybe she'll be willing to answer.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 15, 2013 8:15:43 GMT -8
“Oh.” That was all I could say to that. I mean, the way he answered it so simply. It was almost as if he doesn’t know better, to question it or something. I mean if I was asked to kill someone, I’d totally be wondering why I should. And then again, I would never kill, not even a droid or machine, so that’s kind of moot for a reference. I get a little fidgety, I guess I’m just restless, even though I’m still not feeling up to full strength. I’d look for food, only, Limey will probably make more of that green slop for us, and I cannot take another ounce of that gunk.
He asks me what is a frigate, and what is Impervium, and that’s when I blink at him stupidly. I always refer to the Holonet when I need information. Apparently, he’s either never had access to one, or he’s just never been shown a lot of things in life. Well, then again, if you’re someone who just lives on one world with no plans to ever go travelling, I guess those words or things won’t be important. I try my best to explain it to him, “Uhm...well, a frigate is a ship, usually a space-faring type, that’s uh...large-ish? And Impervium is a kind of very strong metal...like, really strong.”
I rap gently on the hull of my ship, making a hollow metallic sound each time, “This whole ship is made of Impervium. So even if a hostile ship attacks mine, and manages to devastate the shield, it’ll take some serious concentrated fire before they can penetrate the hull.”
It occurs to me that he may have more questions, but honestly, I’m getting hungry. Burning all that energy during our “fight” has left me really drained, and there’s only so much sleep can do for me. I will need food, and possibly, so will he. So I perk up and say, “Hey, you hungry? I’ll make us something in the galley.”
What? You think I want to torture him with Limey’s cooking? I’m not mean.
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Post by Nathaniel Bloodrayne on Jan 31, 2014 4:32:19 GMT -8
A storm brewed in the clouds above me, rain peppered down around me, running off my black trench coat to the duracrete below my feet. I stood on the edge of a skyscraper looking over the distance between me and the building in front of me. The mask on my face conceals my identity most importantly, but it had other uses too. For one the lens allowed for zooming into objects far in the distance and from a tactical point of view the reconnaissance was priceless. A single slip up in the art form I practice could spell the end for me, either by a mistake or by the hand of a less than savory character. The dark sky seems to echo the mood that the city has over it, somber, dark, and brooding.
Three stories below where I stood, twenty meters away I can see the man I have stalked relentlessly. I have a half an hour gap where he is unprotected by his bodyguards, the only downside is that he happens to also be with his wife at this stage. The only way in is through the front door, but that requires passing the stationed guards. I flick my vision over to infrared and keep watch on the guards patrolling and the two that stand guard. The transparisteel was thick and regardless the noise of it shattering would alert the guards. I doubt any blaster would penetrate it, starships were outfitted with it for a reason. My options were limited, but I did have an idea in mind that may work.
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Post by Nathaniel Bloodrayne on Feb 2, 2014 9:50:11 GMT -8
Limitations were made to be broken, much like rules and laws, or so they say. I break laws and rules on the daily I am thinking they apply to everybody else but me, like I am some sort of god. Well, I guess I am my own little god in my own right, the master and guider of my own life. Jedi worship the force, yet here I am bending it to my own will. If I wasn't so self reflective I could see myself forming some sort of god complex. Yet, every time I kill a force user it humbles me back into my true existence, that even I bleed, and my blood runs red like most humans. I brush my cowl off my head somewhat to stop the wind flapping it so much it blocks my sight. To night is a dark night, and for one person I see tonight it is about to become a whole lot darker.
I reach over my shoulder and pull out my DAS-430 Electromagnetic Launcher and aim it on the lightning spike on the top of my neighboring skyscraper, and with a barely audible thump that is drowned out in the wind anyways, a skewer fires rapidly outward. Before I could take all of this in, the skewer had skewered the lightning rod and expanded creating a nice little zipline for me to use. Twisting my DAS-430 around I use it as the handle to quickly zip across the wind buffeting against my dark figure against an equally dark sky. Upon reaching the ledge that signals the roof of the adjacent skyscraper, I hit a button and the DAS-430 detaches from the zipline and I hit the ground in a commando roll, DAS in hand aiming toward the roof access door. Satisfied no threats had emerged I holster my launcher over my back and pull out my dagger.
Rushing across the roof I tap my left gauntlet and the zipline drops from between the building and falls downward into what I gather is the undercity of Taris. I leap from the stairs and fall three stories before grabbing a ledge. The strain on my arms is immense but the force flows into them giving them excess strength. In a second I had burst upwards and grabbed a guard. Pulling him backwards sharply I pull myself over and stab my dagger into his neck in one single quick movement. Without a single moment for him to scream out, his lungs now filled with his own blood, I throw him over the railing. Sometimes targets required more blood than I would like, but I have no intention on failing to eliminate my target yet.
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Post by Nathaniel Bloodrayne on Feb 7, 2014 9:37:30 GMT -8
My drive was more than simple than money, vengeance. Every being wronged has the sense of vengeance, those that forgive are the strongest, but deep inside them they will not be able to drive away the whisper that wishes violence or other malicious things upon them. Some assert this vengeance through violence, others spite, and the last is much broader, dominance. I dominate the scene I choose to live in, because through the dominance of it, I become greater than the evil that lives there. In essence, I have become a greater evil than the evil I stand against, but that is a lesson life has always taught me. In order to destroy evil completely and utterly, you must become the greater evil. War destroys uprisings, death destroys physical harm, cold hearts denies emotional pain. They are al an evil in some way, but they are the effective methods in which our psyche teaches us naturally.
The man I now move silently toward within his room, there is a guard ahead of me around the corner I am approaching. I pull out my DAS, holster my blade and load in a tranquilizer dart before pulling it up to my shoulder and switching my mask to infrared once more. He is looking toward the corner right now, but he won't do that for too long. A threat would sneak up to him if he wasn't vigilant in his watch. He holds an E-11, a pretty decently powerful weapon, mass produced for the Empire by Blastech. A shot from that would hurt, or even kill me if he was as good an aim as the way he holds the weapon suggests. He moves his head to look the other direction, and my moment has come. I burst around the corner, aim for his exposed neck, and with a pulling of the trigger the soft thump of the dart exiting is heard.
For this man though it is beyond too late, his body is already beginning to fall as his neck muscles fail him first. Unable to even see the threat that had approached him, the most vital thing for me is to never be discovered. I clench my left fist, my DAS quickly thrown over my shoulder, as the world around me blurs to a virtual stand still. My mind processes everything as though I am in space without artificial gravity, yet I remain grounded and the guard's limp body falls so very slowly I can almost see his muscles nerves firing to try and fight against the chemicals in his blood stream. I run toward him, the world around me seems so surreal. Even my body seems strange, light, almost distant and not real, but there I am.
I grab the body and remember that I can't place him on the ground in this state, I would make way too much noise as the combined momentum shatters his body into the hard floor below me. I release the force from my grasp within me, and the surge of expenditure hits me like a pillow to the head as everything around me returns back to normal. It may not hurt so much as the shock smacks your head around mentally, my body though feels the burn as if I had just sprinted a hundred meters as hard as I can. I suddenly remember the dead weight in my hands and lower his body to the floor. I then face the door he stood against. A small blast door of sorts it seems, armored against most handheld weaponry. No keycard on the downed guard either, well it seems another one of my skills shall come in handy.
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Lia Corusa
Member
Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
Posts: 86
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 21, 2014 20:57:19 GMT -8
Krayton allowed a single, short bark of a laugh escape as the girl played tough. Matter of fact, she might really have been tough -- no way to know for certain. Could be in a few short hours, he'd find out. Mebbe find out the hard way. Which, in light of the way life was dealing from the bottom of the deck, would suit him just fine. Truth was, he was just happy there'd be somebody around for a few hours as he clawed his way toward death and damnation.
Sitting heavily at the controls, he punched in a few commands, fired up the repulsorlifts, and fed power evenly into the maneuvering thrusters. The controls of the Dux were archaic, but perfect for Krayton's needs. flying the thing took little concentration, but flying it well required all appendages, and it wouldn't have hurt one bit if you found yourself in possession of a couple extra arms. There were a good three thousand feet of vertical ascent to accomplish before the craft could really maneuver around the ruins, and Krayton spent the next few minutes mostly paying attention, though he never really took his eyes off the closed circuit monitor that showed him Lia, still seated across from his workbench.
The vibration and hum of the Dux's many systems caused the aft compartment to virtually become a living thing, bottles and containers of various bits and pieces moved across workbenches, only to shift and strike off in a new direction. Four .50 slugs, tarnished and rusted from age, hung from leather thongs and tinkled in the swaying motion of the ship like wind chimes. Heavier items added their metallic clanging to the symphony as well: A pressurized oxygeon tank, dented and well-worn, its regulator attached to a half-dozen different welding fittings, shifted slightly, every time the ship dipped to port, coming into contact with three empty proton torpedo shells strapped to the port bulkhead, adding a faint 'gong' to the sounds of the ship.
In the cockpit, Krayton adjusted the polarization of the viewport, as the gloomy haze of the Tarisian underworld gave way to the sunlight of the ruined upper city. It was beautiful in its devastated glory. Quiet. Serene. Sorry honey. "before I know it" might end up being a few days. See, before I made your acquaintance, I was supposed to be meeting a buyer for some goods I can hunt down. Only thing is, he didn't show. Which in my line of work, means he found a better deal. Which means I need to get to work, now, or I lose out on six figures' worth of 'hobby,' and my fence loses out on his pay day, which places a big ole' mark on my back. So, unless you have a very compelling reason why I shouldn't... you just became first mate on a dust dive. Finally catching sight of the slowly flashing orange light on the console, Krayton raised an eyebrow -- they couldn't break atmo with an orange light. He tapped at the light with an index finger, willing it to go away, chewed on a torn fingernail. He then flipped two switches in quick succession: the first fed one of the external camera feeds to the monitors in the aft cabin, giving Lia a fine view of the unconscious Diaz, still lying on the extended planetfall ramp, mostly protected from the winds by the superstructure of the ship. The second retracted the ramp, and Diaz, still blissfully unaware, was scraped off the ramp like egg from a spatula, and fell 4500 feet, back to the underworld.
Green light.
Fuck no, it wouldn't hurt one bit.
…Wait, what the hell was a ‘dust dive’?
Lia glared at the bit of rock in her hand, putting two and two together with her usual quick clarity. The sun poured through the viewport and threw itself across her face, dragging at her features as the ship climbed through the sky, shifting the angle. Space was close. “Vexxtal. Crystal.” The rogue once-was-rich-bitch held the shard up, one eyebrow raised. “You wanna mine this shit, don’t you? You know where to get it. That’s what ‘dust diving’ is? How does that work? ...Why not just call it mining?" In Lia's experience, things or events with special names meant bad news. |
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Krayton Jantsk
The Organization
down, and dirty.
Posts: 111 
Affiliation: Highest bidder
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Post by Krayton Jantsk on Feb 26, 2014 11:29:20 GMT -8
The ship shook momentarily as upward motion turned into forward motion, and speed spooled up quickly. Altitude increased with the newfound speed, and soon they were rocketing toward open orbit, leaving the Tarisian upper city behind. They were in that strange twilight which wasn't quite space, but also wasn't quite atmo, where sunlight danced and shapes elongated and distorted through the viewport. It was Krayton's favorite place of all, but the moment was fleeting, as it always was, and after only a few seconds they had cleared atmo, and were in open space.
The motion of the old ship lessened as the forces of gravity were stripped away, until the ship was almost still, free from swaying, creaking and clanking. Krayton made no immediate attempt at responding to Lia's questions, instead busying himself with the navicomputer, making calculations for their first jump. Finally, he laced his fingers behind his head, and leaned back in the pilot's chair. Yeah, I know where it is. Problem with mining is, any Tom, Dick or Harry with half a brain can buy a claim to land. Big corporations can do this on a planetary scale. Makes finding a profit for guys like me a touch difficult. Or very illegal. So for those of us in my rarefied profession who still want to turn rocks into business, we have to go a little further out there. Asteroids. You can't buy 'em. Can't really lay claim to 'em either, on account of they tend to destroy themselves with a frightening regularity. But rocks is rocks. Some better'n others. So yeah. A dust dive is like mining. Only in an asteroid field. With the odds of survival approximately 3720 to 1, or so I've heard. I heard they call it dust diving because you're more liable to end up dust, either from the collisions or the explosives. shrug Makes no nevermind to me, really. Anyway. I need a partner. Can't leave the ship on autopilot, so I need someone to fly while I dig up rocks. Krayton stood up, and pushed through the curtain of wires aft of the cockpit, standing over Lia. First jump is in a few minutes.
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Post by Varric Kel'oranii on Mar 30, 2014 20:24:47 GMT -8
A LAAT/i comes descending from orbit to the landing bay. A giant black hand with a circle surrounding it can be seen on its sides. It lands on one of the smaller docking bays and its port side sliding door opens, revealing 5 cloaked figures standing in its troop bay. The tallest one disembarked and the others followed. Varric knew that no one besides his mark would recognize him, but he did not need word that a Feeorin was on the planet. If his mark got spooked then he would never find him in this dense mass of people.
He turns towards the pilot. "We have the bay reserved for one standard day. We should be back before then. Refuel and keep alert. I may call in for support or pickup and we will have to leave in a hurry." The pilot nodded in acknowledgement. Varric turned towards his four companions, who like him, remained cloaked. "You know the drill boys, lets go." He starts off toward the nearest elevator for the Undercity, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of going down there again.
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Darth Malvus
Member
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Affiliation: Resurgent Sith Conclave
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Post by Darth Malvus on Apr 22, 2014 20:38:49 GMT -8
The freighter landed upon the designated landing pad. A crew came up to begin refueling the ship as the Sith descended the ramp. He lifts his hood slowly in order to hide his face. The face of a Sith, an ancient blood within his veins. A species that existed long before the Exiled came to Korriban and Ziost. The Sith glances at the crew refueling his ship before walking away.
Valstrol walks away from the landing pad towards a busy section of the Upper City that rested upon the edge of the landing pads. He pauses for a moment, raising his hand for a moment. His eyes close, the Dark Lord's senses reaching out to feel where the Dark Side wished for him to go. To learn why the Force brought him back to Taris, a shadow of its former glory.
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Post by Bria Shadowlight-Tarkin on Apr 22, 2014 20:52:51 GMT -8
It was a whisper in the force, trace. In this whisper what language that was long ago spoken by the one that was whisper. Darkness had taken it self, no more is there life with in the force that was once.
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Darth Malvus
Member
Posts: 823
Affiliation: Resurgent Sith Conclave
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Post by Darth Malvus on Apr 22, 2014 20:56:36 GMT -8
His sense picked up the whispers from within the Force. The whispers sounding like they were deep down below his feet. His gaze looks to the floor where his boots stood. And with that, Valstrol followed the Dark Side's intentions. Valstrol then proceeds to a hover elevator and enters one of them. His gloved fingers press a button and soon, the cylinder transport descends into towards the Under City.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Sept 27, 2014 11:48:25 GMT -8
High in the clouds in one of the oldest standing sky scrapers on Taris, it had lasted since the time the whole planet had been reduced to rubble. Indeed this one had been damaged. It nearly fell. However it lasted, and for a time it was the center of the rebuilding efforts. The center of the new city. Now however it was just another building, one that bore the scars of its age. Burns here, scuffs there and more than one hole in the wall. If one place in the Upper City would have been compared to the lower levels this would be it. Indeed there was even a way to get down there from the lowest parts of the tower. An ancient hole where a laser had splaced right there when the Sith were hunting Bastila.
It was through this hole three men had carried kicking and screaming a man from the under city. He would not be missed and as such their experiment could be done.
Let me go you sons of bitches! I swear to all the gods when my friends get out of this chair I will kill all of you!
The mans words were loud, screaming at the top of his lungs spittle dripped down his chin and spit from his mouth with every word. Struggling back and forth in his chair he toppled over and hit his head on the ground. Blood spurted from a wound in his forehead making the air thick with copper and matting his hair to the ground.
Quit your incessant chanting and let me go!
Indeed the three men around him were more filthy than he was. In their 40s each of them, their hair hung low over their haggard faces, beards that hung down to their stomachs. What clothes they still had on where dirty and rags. Almost as if they had not been removed from their bodies for years. Worse than their attire though was their guttural chants. Over and over they spoke in a dead language, in order to summon someone back from the dead.
Tears in his eyes as they finished the man fro the lower city went rigid before slumping in his seat which rose and righted itself almost of its own accord. In a voice not so feminine he spoke.
Why have you returned me to this place.
Looking up from their chanting each of them had tears in their eyes, it was the man with the most gray in his air who spoke.
Jess baby we brought you back. We needed answer you couldnt give us before... before you died. Who did you. No. Who DO you love more.
Breaking into laughter the shade couldnt speak for a full minute. His own eyes watered as he fought to control his fit of laughter.
You fool. Im not Jess and she loved none of you. She was to busy banging me in the after world to think about you pricks.
With that Xeonon snapped the cords holding his arms like they were frayed 100 year old hemp cord. Standing he looked left than right before throwing both his arms out sending the men crashing into the walls. Their bones broke from the force, none of them had their answer. Snapping the fingers on his right hand his apparel changed and a crown resembling gold appeared on his head. Cackling he twirled in place leaving the building to a new world. In his absence as the universe tried to correct the mistake an explosion rocked the room as atoms and molecules and stuff collided to fill in the empty space. All the police crews would find were the charred remains of three crazy bomb makers.
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Sept 29, 2014 10:30:22 GMT -8
Karamon's Cantina, Lower City
Cuyan sat in the booth he'd been haunting every night the past week, nursing his narcolethe, his helmet sitting on the table beside him, and his kylan-15 rifle on the bench with him. His high cheekbones, emerald green eyes and lustrous black hair, so like those of his taung father, drew attention to him even as the green and black mandalorian armor and constant grim expression discouraged it. He had good information that his mark would arrive here sometime tonight, and he was eager to make the capture and get paid.
A man had to make a living after all.
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Lilith
Member
Posts: 35
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lilith on Sept 29, 2014 12:11:38 GMT -8
*Lil sat at the bar in the dumpy cantina and moped. Her red hair was up in a ponytail, her leather jacket was on, and concealed her two favourite blades, and her jeans were well worn - they were easy to move in. She was down on her luck, and feeling sorry for herself... Perhaps it was the fault of the amber liquid in the glass in front of her, but suddenly, her lone lifestyle held little appeal.*
I could settle down somewhere... Find a nice planet with nice weather, a little apartment with big open windows... I could have house plants - I bet I could even keep them alive a couple months...
*She thought about the possibilities. She could do whatever she wanted! She had no responsibilities, no worries... no credits, no ship... The little light of hope went out and she took an angry sip from the glass and cringed as it burned down her throat. Then she saw him... The perfect mark. A big pouch hanging from his belt - full of credits she was sure. Enough to get her to a nice planet and a nice apartment.. She hopped down from her stool and walked towards him as he settled onto one of the bar stools.
It was an easy grab, considering her level of intoxication. A group of pierced and tattooed hooligans approached at just the right time.. the perfect scapegoats.. She placed herself right in the middle of the narrow walkway, forcing the group to split. She bumped shoulders with one of the tattooed men, knocking him into the man on the bar stool, and pulled the pouch from his belt without issue.
Chaos quickly ensued...
The man felt the weight of the bag disappear and launched himself from his stool, ready to take on the perpetrator. As anticipated, the group of hooligans was blamed and a pushing match began, while on lookers shouted and Lil tried to escape the mess. She was on the edge of freedom - she could see the clearing beyond the mass of bodies... when something solid collided with her. She lurched forward and the drink having slowed her reflexes, toppled the the ground, the stolen pouch landing beside her, its contents spilled on the filthy floor.
Her elbows burned from the impacted on the worn wood, and she vaguely noticed the commotion behind her settled. She groaned, and rolled to her back, not surprised to see a very angry man looking down at her. She smiled her most innocent of smiles.*
"Hi."
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Sept 29, 2014 13:13:39 GMT -8
Cuyan watched the fracas with growing annoyance. If they caused him to miss his mark, he would be very...irritated. As the pushing and fighting began to increase, Cuyan drained his narcolethe and stood up. Wordlessly he strode toward the bar, shoving and intimidating, until he saw a young woman on the floor, a large man looming over her. A small brawl can settle, but a murder would bring the local constabulary and that would ruin his chances of taking his mark. He drew his sidearm and placed iron to the back of the man's head, flicking off the safety so he could hear the whine of the gun charging.
"Stand up straight. Now."
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Lilith
Member
Posts: 35
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lilith on Sept 29, 2014 13:41:43 GMT -8
*The man appeared out of no where. Full armour. And mildly terrifying. His orders were to the point, and the man she'd stolen from didn't hesitate in doing what he was told, even lifting his hands in obvious forfeit. Lil watched with wide, surprised eyes.*
"This little shit stole from me - right there, thats my pouch. My credits!"
*Lil feigned offence, and got to her feet - slowly. Confrontation did not seem to sober her up at all; she could still feel the heat in her cheeks.. Her eyebrows were furrowed in anger, and she huffed loudly.*
"I get knocked over amidst you shenanigans and I'm the culprit? Nonsense."
*She folded her arms, her weight on her right leg, hip jutted out - as much attitude as possible felt appropriate in the moment - and looked at the owner of the gun. A curious fellow, she decided quickly.*
"I had nothing to do with this."
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Sept 29, 2014 14:31:21 GMT -8
Cuyan scowled, at both of them in turn. His patience was wearing thin, not helped by the attitude of the young woman popping her hip out thusly.
"I'm sure you didn't."
He turned to the man, his gun still pointed at him.
"You, take your bag and get the fuck out. At the double-quick."
The man opened his mouth as if to protest, but Cuyan cocked an eyebrow and moved his eye gesturing to the muzzle of his gun. The man huffed and puffed but did as he was bade, gathering his belongings and storming out. Cuyan turned to face the girl.
"Go away."
He flicked the safety back on and holstered his blaster. As he turned to go back to his booth, he noticed the denizens of the bar staring at him, wondering why he would intervene.
"I assume everyone else here is just as happy to not have the constabulary around as I am."
There were nods and laughs, and the music started back up as Cuyan reached his seat, a server droid bringing him another narcolethe.
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Lilith
Member
Posts: 35
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lilith on Sept 29, 2014 16:34:21 GMT -8
*Lilith watched the man wielding the gun bark orders at her wouldbe victim and smirked as he slinked off and out of the pub... Then he turned on her... and told her to go away. Go away?! She was without her loot, with bruised elbows, and a bruised ego - she would not be 'shoo'd away! He addressed the rest of the crowd, and business continued on as usual, but Lil was not satisfied. She followed him back to his table, and sat across from him as the droid brought him a drink. She signalled for one herself.*
"Why'd you do that? Big burly warrior such as yourself? You weren't involved. You wouldn't have been bothered by the constabulary.."
*She paused as a drink was placed in front of her, and she took a sip.*
"Are you on the run? Wanted fugitive? What'd you do? I bet its something lame. This whole look you have going is just a facade isn't it? You smuggle fuzzy kittens or something, don't you?"
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Sept 29, 2014 18:58:58 GMT -8
Cuyan cocked an eyebrow at the presumption of the redhead at sitting at his table. While she annoyingly prattled on, he popped a chest compartment on his armor and produced a pack of cigarettes, tapping one a few times and lighting it. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, making no effort to keep the smoke out of her face as he smirked and replied.
"What I do is no concern of yours girl. Hasn't anyone ever taught you not to ask too many questions at a bar like this? A tasty little slice like you ought to be glad I kept him from uglying you up, and leave me alone."
Cuyan took another sip of his drink, and another pull on his cigarette.
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