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Knight
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May 6, 2012 16:10:24 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Jake on May 6, 2012 16:10:24 GMT -5
Character Name: Jare'Nabala Character Source: SWU Fringe Pending Character Faction/Alignment: Independent Type of Roleplay: Not sure, probably a mix of combat and social interactions. Roleplay Requirements: None really, I'm just gonna post and see where we go from that point. Reason for Request: I want to see if this character is going to be fun to RP with, and I wish to improve my mediocre writing skills. Notes: Nil Roleplay:
Damn that's good stuff!
The words were formed by crimson lips after the shot glass had long departed. Jaren motioned for the barkeep to bring him another shot as he set the empty glass down on the dirty bar. The Duros nodded and tended to the task without much enthusiasm or energy.
Jaren took this time to scope out the other patrons of the little backstreet Corellian bar. There weren't a whole lot, just common trash and scum. The occasional spice dealer, or swoop biker; nothing to dangerous.
Jaren's couldn't help but notice that some of the patrons were eyeing him down. Some stared or gazed, while some of the more polite customers stole occasional glances. Lethan twi'leks were very desirable, as was evident in many of the women's (and even some of the men's) eyes.
As he straightened his jacket into an acceptable fashion, Jaren looked up to see the bartender setting his freshly poured drink on the grungy metal bar. Jaren tipped his head to the Duros and slapped down the appropriate number of credits.
After doing a once over of the other patrons once more, Jaren decided that he didn't like being eye-candy for such a large crowd. Three Zeltrons, maybe, but not this crowd. To cure this, the young pilot cleanly descended from his barstool, and found his way to dark, secluded booth in the corner of the room.
Ignoring the grease stain on the dingy seat, Jaren planted the butt of his gray trousers on the worn material. Glass met flesh once more, as the twi'lek took the shot.
It was quite over in the corner, which gave Jaren some time to think, his earbuds liberated from the barrage of side conversations so commonly found in bars and cantinas.
Deciding to use the serene window of time wisely, Jeran began to contemplate his next move. The gray and black-clad figure stretched out his legs and rested his head and lekku on the top of the chair in the most comfortable position he could find.
For the past month, he had been serving on the cargo freighter Ashuka as a pilot and navigator, which had earned him a decent amount of credits. However, there wasn't near enough to pay for a decent freighter, but it was something.
The thought tickled him, the idea of owning his own freighter was exciting, as he had always dreamed of such. Then he would be his own man, a freelancer travelling wherever the galaxy took him. No more raunchy motels or hole-in-the-wall bars for him, he could sleep and drink in the comfort of his own vessel. Perhaps he would even have a crew someday...
Being a realist, Jaren stopped himself from daydreaming and focused on the means to attain such a glorious future.
First of all, he needed a job. The pilot would take on smuggling, linguistics, piloting, navigation, or any similar legal or otherwise jobs. Maybe in a little while he would head off to the spaceport and job-hunt, but he figured that the cantina was just as good a place to find a little work as any other.
Jaren sat up in the chair and scooted it over a bit so that he was only just visible from the bar entrance. Secluded enough to avoid trouble, yet exposed enough to attract possible employers. The more observant potential employers would notice the black pilot's jacket, giving away his trade.
In the meantime, as he relaxed a bit, Jaren withdrew his datapad and powered it up. An older model, the thing was a bit slow, but more than adequate for browsing relevant job offers in and around the Corellia system.
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last online Aug 31, 2015 15:47:05 GMT -5
Knight
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May 7, 2012 20:55:24 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Jake on May 7, 2012 20:55:24 GMT -5
Finished finally!
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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May 16, 2012 10:56:45 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 16, 2012 10:56:45 GMT -5
Warning: I am prone to getting long-winded Damn that's good stuff!The words were formed by crimson lips after the shot glass had long departed. So, I get what you're going for here, but the phrasing is awkward. This is mostly a stylistic thing, but I've never been fond of having sentences structured around body parts quite like that. It might also be good to make that active, so that the subject (Jaren's lips) is doing rather than something happening to it. Jaren motioned for the barkeep to bring him another shot as he set the empty glass down on the dirty bar. The Duros nodded and tended to the task without much enthusiasm or energy. Jaren took this time to scope out the other patrons of the little backstreet Corellian bar. There weren't a whole lot, just common trash and scum. The occasional spice dealer, or swoop biker; nothing to o dangerous. Jaren's couldn't help but notice that some of the patrons were eyeing him . down. Some stared or gazed I can see what you're doing here but you might want to try a different word than gaze. Since it's so similar to stare that the feeling of this part kinda comes across as 'stared or stared'. Or you could reduce it to just one word for looking like 'some openly stared,' which gets the same meaning across much more smoothly, while some of the more polite customers stole occasional glances. Lethan twi'leks were very desirable, as was evident in many of the women's (and even some of the men's) eyes. As he straightened his jacket into an acceptable fashion, Jaren looked up to see the bartender setting his freshly poured drink on the grungy metal bar. Jaren tipped his head to the Duros and slapped down the appropriate number of credits. After doing a another/one more once -over of the other patrons once more, Jaren decided that he didn't like being eye-candy for such a large crowd. I'd almost suggest doing 'Jaren did another once over . . . and decided he didn't like being eye candy for such a large crowd.' Better flow. Three Zeltrons, maybe, but not this crowd. To cure this, the young pilot cleanly descended 'Nother change where we can play with word choice. Most bar stools are short enough so you can just stand up from them, and Jaren's not really short. So were these particularly tall? Descended made me picture them floating high up in the air or something. It was a goofy mental image. It would be just fine to so 'rose' or 'stood' or anything giving that kind of mental picture. from his barstool, and found his way to dark, secluded booth in the corner of the room. Ignoring the grease stain on the dingy seat, Jaren planted the butt of his gray trousers on the worn material. Same thing here. I know what you're saying here, but the phrasing is a bit clunky, since you're referring to the butt of his trousers, and not necessarily his butt. =P If you want to keep the same thing and show the color of his trousers you could do 'his grey-clad butt' or something along those lines. Glass met flesh lips once more, as the twi'lek took the shot. It was quitequiet over in the corner, which gave Jaren some time to think, his earbuds liberated from the barrage of side conversations so commonly found in bars and cantinas. The sentence here is long enough that it starts to get a little awkward. You could actually do without the second half of it, since it's just repeating that it's quiet in the bar, which you established in the first clause of the sentence. Alternatively, you could do something like 'The corner provided safety/reprieve from the constant din of conversation, allowing Jaren time to think.' Which shows that his little corner is quiet, and still gets in what you were trying to say in the last half of the sentence.Deciding to use his the serene window of time wisely, Jeran began to contemplate his next move. Figurative language can be good and really adds a lot to writing when used effectively. But sometimes it's best to just be succinct. Now I will say this is entirely a stylistic choice, so I'm just going on my own preferences here. The gray and black-clad figure stretched out his legs and rested his head and lekku on the top of the chair in the most comfortable position he could find. For the past month, he had been serving on the cargo freighter Ashuka as a pilot and navigator, which had earned him a decent amount of credits. However, there wasn't near enough to pay for a decent freighter, but it was something. The thought tickled him, You need something to set up the next clause here. A semicolon, or some kind of dash (--) since the next one is an independent clause and right now you've got a comma splice going on. Or you could just split them into two separate sentences. the idea of owning his own freighter was exciting, as he had always dreamed of such. Then he would be his own man, a freelancer travelling wherever the galaxy took him. No more raunchy motels or hole-in-the-wall bars for him, Same thing here. he could sleep and drink in the comfort of his own vessel. Perhaps he would even have a crew someday... Being a realist, Jaren stopped himself from daydreaming and focused on the means to attain such a glorious future. First of all, he needed a job. The pilot would take on smuggling, linguistics, piloting, navigation, or any similar legal or otherwise jobs. Maybe in a little while he would head off to the spaceport and job-hunt, but he figured that the cantina was just as good a place to find a little work as any other. Jaren sat up in the chair and scooted it over a bit so that he was only just visible from the bar entrance. Secluded enough to avoid trouble, yet exposed enough to attract possible employers. The more observant potential employers would notice the black pilot's jacket, giving away his trade. In the meantime, as he relaxed a bit, Jaren withdrew his datapad and powered it up. An older model, the thing was a bit slow, but more than adequate for browsing relevant job offers in and around the Corellia system. The rest looks good. So I said a lot here, but I am prone to getting long-winded and rambling. However, you write fairly well. Most of your post was pretty sound mechanically, which is good, so I was able to focus on stylistic choices, which make up the meat of learning how to better your writing and what works best for you. So, you can take what you want from those suggestions, but I hope some things in there prove useful for you. Now I have to run for a little bit, so I'll edit in my character part of this post when I get back. I'll notify you when I have. ~~~~~ {Alright, here's something to respond to. Something I should have added but didn't think about is that you didn't really give me much to work with for coming in with this post. It happens sometimes with opening posts, but if Jaren's just sitting there and Tsubasa doesn't know him, there's not really a whole lot of reason for Tsu to go over and interact so we can get things going. There are obviously ways to work around that, and I just went with something simple for the sake of this, but that's something to keep in mind. Give your partners a little hook to help draw them in. Of course, it would also help if Tsu was looking to employ, but he isn't =P Not a big deal, though. Just something to think about.} "Are you certain you won't need me standing watch for you, Tsubasa?" "It's a bar Ifrit. No place I haven't been before." Tsubasa glanced up at Ifrit, the at the robotic companion riding o his shoulder. He was a little droid, built like a dragon with holographic wings that were, at present, a bright, cheery red. "Well yes, that's true, but aren't bars common scenes for fights and muggings? Simply thinking of the mundane as mundane can be a recipe for-" "Ifrit. I'll be fine. I can handle myself, you know." He glanced up again at the familiar, smiling softly. His amber eyes glinted in the dim evening light with a spark of amusement. "I was a loner for years before I wound up with you." "But-" "No," Tsu cut in, lifting a gauntleted hand to silence the droid's complaint. "We'll be fine. And if trouble comes our way, you'll know. Trust me. But the last thing I need is you burning the place down. We were lucky to get off Umgul without any problems after you set that warehouse on fire." Ifrit adjusted the way he sat on Tsu's shoulder, curling his tail around the back of the Matukai's neck. He snorted softly, indignantly. "But that was necessary at the time." "I won't argue it." Tsu stopped just outside the door and looked at the droid. "But not every problem we run into needs you to use your chemical, alright? That stuff's way too potent...." Ifrit made another snorting noise. A puff of grey smoke drifted lazily from his mouth. "Just keep it cool. We're here to relax. Maybe find a job, if luck holds. Just take it easy." He grabbed the door and pulled it open, stepping inside the little cantina. There were more patrons than he expected, and a steady din of conversation filled the smoky air under beneath the constant thrumming of some song he didn't recognize. Tsu drew a few looks as he walked into the cantina. He was handsome, but it wasn't his looks that had some patrons turning to look and whispering hushedly to their friends. Simply put, Tsubasa stood out. Where the other patrons wore normal street clothes, he wore a plain grey cloak that wrapped his shoulders, keeping his clothing hidden and his slender body mostly formless, beyond a gentle broadness about his shoulders. It also hid the short sword and collapsed wan-shen hanging from his waist. Then there were the tattoos on his face, the long strands of hair hanging down both sides of his head to his chest... Yes, he stood out, but he was used to it. He was different than the others here. Matukai weren't a common group, nor were the Epicanthix a particularly common people. Tsu noticed that the bar was full as he approached it and stopped in his tracks. He glanced around the cantina, looking for a place to sit, but the tables were full. "Might have to go somewhere else," he muttered to himself, turning around. Unwilling to leave so soon, he moved further into cantina, searching for any empty tables along the periphery. These too were filled, but as he turned to leave one relatively quiet corner and go to another, he noticed a red Twi'lek looking at a datapad. More importantly, he noticed something about jobs on the datapad. For a moment, Tsubasa debated whether he should speak to the man or not. He didn't want to appear a creep, but money would be tight soon, and he'd need to get more supplies for the Vagabond.What harm could come out of it? "Excuse me," he said quietly, keeping his hands beneath his cloak, "I don't mean to intrude, but I noticed something about a job on that 'pad." The Matukai nodded slightly to the datapad in question. "Are you looking for work, or hiring? I'm trying to find a job."
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Knight
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May 17, 2012 22:15:46 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Jake on May 17, 2012 22:15:46 GMT -5
Jaren whistled quietly to himself as he scrolled through the job listings. He had found a grand total of four that interested him. Two were underpaying, but the latter two offered considerable payments. The unemployed Twi'lek frowned whenever he noticed that the first of the two was indeed the dangerous occupation of... a pleasure yacht co-pilot.
The job wasn't horrid, just not really Jaren's type of work. The pilot dreaded the thought of carting around some Corellian aristocrat around the Core. But alas, he would definitely take it if he had to, for obvious reasons.
Now the fourth and final offer fascinated Jaren the most out of the four. It payed well, called for a skilled pilot, and the contact wasn't far from his current location. He was about to read the entire description when an unfamiliar voice sounded from the direction of the bar.
Jaren gently set his 'pad on the table top, and turned his head to the speaker. The perceptiveness of others never ceased to amaze him. The source of the voice was a Human, maybe near-hum or , a few inches shorter than he. The "man" was probably about or eight years younger than he, or at least he looked to be. The most noticeable feature of the speaker was a series of blue tattoos that were arranged in a pattern of some sort.
The red-skinned man pondered quietly to himself for a moment. Why would the strange man ask him such a question? Was he so desperate that he went around random cantinas and asked equally as random people about jobs? Perhaps he wasn't so random, perhaps he had simply been a jobless freelancer, searching for work.
Just like him. He realized in those first few words of conversation with the man, that they weren't so different. Perhaps they had opposite genetic codes, and they might not have remotely similar skill sets, but they were both jobless and searching for work in a bar.
Jaren smiled before he spoke, his friendly nature getting the better of him.
"Ah, It's no trouble. A seat?" As her said this, Jaren slid over on the seat, allowing for an appropriate amount of space. If the stranger chose to sit down, he would be seated close enough to speak plainly, but not so close as to be awkward.
"Sorry, I'm not hiring. In fact, I'm looking for some work myself. I'm a pilot by trade, but I also speak several languages, and occasionally take on some merc work.
Jaren paused for a second, letting the words sink in.
"And yourself? What kind of work are you looking for exactly? That is, if you don't mind me asking.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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May 19, 2012 21:19:19 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 19, 2012 21:19:19 GMT -5
Alrighty, let's see what you've got this go 'round. Jaren whistled quietly to himself as he scrolled through the job listings. He had found a grand total of four that interested him. Two were underpaying, but the latter two offered considerable payments. The unemployed Twi'lek frowned when ever Just 'when' suffices herehe noticed that the first of the two was indeed the dangerous occupation of... a pleasure yacht co-pilot. The job wasn't horrid, just not really Jaren's type of work. The pilot dreaded the thought of carting around some Corellian aristocrat around the Core. But alas, he would definitely take it if he had to, for obvious reasons. Now the fourth and final offer fascinated Jaren the most out of the four Redundant. 'Fourth and final' already tells the reader that it was the fourth option, and the last of the bunch, so that establishes how many options he's dealing with on its own. You also already said that there were four jobs two paragraphs up. It payed well, called for a skilled pilot, and the contact wasn't far from his current location. He was about to read the entire description when an unfamiliar voice sounded from the direction of the bar. Jaren gently set his 'pad on the table top, and turned his head to the speaker. The perceptiveness of others never ceased to amaze him. The source of the voice was a Human, maybe near-hum or , a few inches shorter than he. The "man" was probably about or eight <- Word missing. It happens. I do it all the time.years younger than he, or at least he looked to be. The most noticeable feature of the speaker was a series of blue tattoos that were arranged in a pattern of some sort. The red-skinned man pondered quietly to himself for a moment. Why would the strange man ask him such a question? Was he so desperate that he went around random cantinas and asked equally as random people about jobs? Perhaps he wasn't so random, perhaps he had simply been a jobless freelancer, searching for work. Just like him. Stylistic moment. For bits like these, I like to break the line and have the rest of the information in a following paragraph. It works well with emphasizing details that should be emphasized, like this.He realized in those first few words of conversation with the man, that they weren't so different. Perhaps they had opposite I think something like different/dissimilar/etc might be better suited here. Their DNA is different, but opposite is painting an extreme. 'Sup to you.genetic codes, and they might not have remotely similar skill sets, but they were both jobless and searching for work in a bar. Jaren smiled before he spoke, his friendly nature getting the better of him. "Ah, It's no trouble. A seat?"As he r said this, Jaren slid over on the seat, allowing for an appropriate amount of space. If the stranger chose to sit down, he would be seated close enough to speak plainly, but not so close as to be awkward. He's in a booth, right? Should be another side xD I was planning on Tsu sitting across from him anyway."Sorry, I'm not hiring. In fact, I'm looking for some work myself. I'm a pilot by trade, but I also speak several languages, and occasionally take on some merc work. Jaren paused for a second, letting the words sink in. "And yourself? What kind of work are you looking for exactly? That is, if you don't mind me asking.So overall, this is solid. Improved from the last one, which is always a good thing to have. Like last time, a lot of what I have to say is subjective, so take what you want from it. But on the whole, I'd say the post was Nice work :3 ~~~~~~~~~ "Ah, It's no trouble. A seat?"Tsu nodded. "I'd be glad to." He started to move to the seat opposite the Twi'lek, when he noticed the fellow moving over to make room for him. For a moment, Tsu hesitated, unsure where, exactly to sit. He settled on across the from the Twi'lek; his generosity and apparent benevolence was welcome. Tsu's weapons, however, were on the wrong side of his waist for him to sit down next to the Twi'lek comfortably without moving them around. And that was far too much trouble just to be able to sit. Once seated, Tsu adjusted his cloak, keeping it around him as Ifrit skittered down his arm and onto the table. Seemingly determined to make up for the fleeting moment of awkwardness, Ifrit sat on his haunches across from Tsu, next to the Twi'lek. Tsu just shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not hiring. In fact, I'm looking for some work myself. I'm a pilot by trade, but I also speak several languages, and occasionally take on some merc work."No luck. He should've known. But the night was young, and this red fellow newly-met. The Force worked in strange ways, and opportunities sometimes came from unexpected places. "And yourself? What kind of work are you looking for exactly? That is, if you don't mind me asking.""I don't mind, no." Tsu lifted his armored hands from under his cloak and set them on the table, one atop the other with, forefinger tapping with gentle metallic pinging. He took a moment to consider his words, then spoke. "I'm a Matukai. I'm gonna guess that doesn't mean a lot to you on its own." He sighed softly, shoulders rising and falling under his cloak. "I can use the Force. I can fight when I need to. Know a good bit about the body and takin' care of it. I'm not a doctor, but I help people that need helping sometimes. "Most'a what I do is merc work, like you. Guard duty, occassiaonally escorting people. Other stuff, from time to time." Tsu shrugged slightly, amber eyes flicking to meet the Twi'lek's steadily. "Really just depends on what I find." A memory came to mind and he smiled, huffing a quiet chuckle to himself. "Even gave some lordling's son some martial arts lessons once. Didn't go very well, though--wanted to learn too much too fast and couldn't take bein' told no." The tapping of his finger stopped of a sudden, and he lifted a hand, extending it across the table. "Name's Tsubasa, by the way. Tsubasa Arus. Most just call me Tsu." Ifrit perked up at the sound of introductions. "And I," he began, starting a routine Tsubasa was all too familiar with, "am REA Unit #10. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Ifrit's holographic wings rustled over his back. A tiny tendril of dark smoke drifted up from the end of his snout. Tsu chuckled. "Just call him Ifrit."
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last online Aug 31, 2015 15:47:05 GMT -5
Knight
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May 20, 2012 21:12:58 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Jake on May 20, 2012 21:12:58 GMT -5
After the initial moment of awkwardness passed, Jaren renewed his friendly aura by smiling slightly as his fellow mercenary took a seat. Now that the stranger was sitting across from him, Jaren could examine him thoroughly. He was careful not to stare as that would have been rude.
This fella was definitely some kind of fighter. Jaren could see it in the way the newcomer moved, quickly and with determination. The twi'lek also noted the cloak that concealed most of the stranger's body. Jaren figured that there were weapons, or some other sensitive objects hidden underneath.
To his great surprise and initial discomfort, a metallic creature made its way down the strangers arm and onto the table next to Jaren's relaxed forearm. The red arm jerked back and instinctively reached for the grip of his blaster. Once he realized the little droid was no threat to himself, Jaren allowed the arm to return to its resting position. To lighten the mood, he chuckled, slightly embarrassed at his sudden response.
The little droid was shaped s bit like a lizard, but had glowing, seemingly holographic, wings. The red-skinned pilot has heard of the strange, flying creatures when he was flying with an eccentric old Human a few years back. The little robot definitely met the description. Once the tattoo-faced man spoke up, Jaren's full attention shifted back to him.
Once the word "Matukai" escaped the other man's lips, Jaren almost spoke up to ask what he meant. The word meant nothing to him in any of the five languages he spoke, but he seemed to remember that you needed two Mirialans to do that...
No that couldn't have been right. Jaren's curiosity was addressed whenever the (possible) Human explained it to him. The pilot never bothered with the Force, Jedi, and all of the nonsense involved; the whole load was just a bunch of trouble, and had no practical uses to Jaren.
He remained silent until the stranger finished explaining his profession. Jaren noted the usefulness of all of the skills. Force users made excellent combatants, so he had the feeling that the Matukai wasn't revealing the extent of his martial abilities.
Jaren continued his attentive solitude, nodding when appropriate, as the stranger spoke. Tsu, an interesting name. Certainly not the strangest in the galaxy, but Jaren still wondered about the heritage of the fellow.
Since Tsu was polite enough to give his name, Jaren thought it only appropriate to give his as well. However, before he could speak the small droid spoke up and introduced itself. Jaren smiled awkwardly, then returned his eyes to those of Tsubana's.
"Howdy Tsu, I'm Jare'Nabala, but you can go ahead and call me Jaren.
He then looked toward "Ifrit".
Pleased to make your acquaintance Ifrit.
Jaren wondered what the droid's purpose was, but ultimately decided it wasn't really his business.
After he spoke, a thought occurred to Jaren. These spontaneous plans were often doomed to fail, but occasionally one would pop up that really was feasible. This was one of those occasions.
Minutes before his browsing had been interrupted by Tsu, he had come across a particularly high-paying job. However, it involved a local spice gang, so Jaren didn't think that he could handle it solo. Now that this young Matukai had appeared, Jaren believed that they had the combined muscle to successfully handle the mission.
On second thought, I may indeed have work for us. Excuse me for a minute.
Jaren snatched up his datapad quickly, and began searching for the job offer again.
There.
The offer was a CorSec Bounty on a local drug gang leader. The article made it quite clear that he had heavy security, and any attempts to claim the bounty should be executed by professionals. The reward was quite considerable, even when split 50-50.
Jaren cleared his throat and considered his words for a moment. He had to be careful, as he was treading on uneasy ground.
Well, I found a possible job for us. It's a bounty, set by CorSec, on a local drug gang leader. It says here that it'll be pretty dangerous, but if you think we could handle it... Here take a look.
Jaren slid the datapad across the table, careful to avoid contact with the droid, and turned it around so that the Matukai could read the display.
I'm not entirely sure what Matukai fight with or how, but I know my way around a blaster. I would guess there could be about no less than four guards and gangsters, but probably no more than eight or ten. These drug dealers like to keep on the down low, but they also like to be secure.
Jaren silently anticipated Tsu's response. He really needed the money, and the pilot knew he couldn't handle the mission alone.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 10, 2012 12:21:49 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 10, 2012 12:21:49 GMT -5
Oh no, you're a corndog =P And I had such high hopes for you
Anyway your post looks pretty good. Don't see anything worth really pointing out, though I also just woke up, so I'm not feeling particularly nitpicky. But even so, you did well. Kudos.
~~~~~~
"Jare'Nabala," Tsu repeated after Jaren gave his name. He smiled a little bit. The name was quintessentially Twi'lek, and a mouthful, as their names had a way of being. "Jaren. Pleased to meet you."
Of course, a meeting alone wouldn't be enough to make the night's excursion any sort of success. Tsu needed to find some kind of work. There wasn't an immediate rush of the sort that weighed on Jaren's shoulders, but sooner would be much preferred over later.
Fuel and food wouldn't pay for themselves.
Ifrit nodded his draconic head in answer to Jaren's greeting. If the droid could smile, he would've. Instead his wings nearly glowed, so bright and red were they as he spread them wide over his back. Tsu recognized it as something close to a smile. Red was good from Ifrit; red meant the familiar was pleased.
"The pleasure is mine, Jare'Nabala," the droid replied. A puff of smoke, white and airy, drifted away from Ifrit's mouth as he resettled his wings and sat, watching the two men.
Tsubasa resumed tapping a finger on the back of his gauntleted hand, listening to the steady metal tap, tap, tap against the noise of the cantina behind him.
"On second thought, I may indeed have work for us. Excuse me for a minute."
"Hm?" The Matukai raised a dark brow slightly, but nodded. "Of course, take your time." While Jaren searched, Tsu considered some other options he might have if he couldn't find anything to do with the Twi'lek. Surely there was someone in the place that needed work done, though as he glanced over his shoulder, Tsu realized that he wasn't certain if he felt like dealing with some of the drunks or bawdy women that might get the wrong idea when they saw what the man beneath the cloak looked like.
Not that he minded the thought, but it wasn't what he was after; sex didn't pay for supplies and food.
Might have to check some of the theatres around here. Maybe shows are around I can work for.
But no, best to give Jaren the time of day before he contemplated doing another round of guard duty for a few nights, even if he did enjoy being paid to watch plays and operas.
Jaren cleared his throat, drawing Tsu's attention back to him. "Find something?"
It seemed he had found something: a bounty job. Tsu felt a moment of hesitation as the Twi'lek slid the datapad across the table so he could read; bounty work wasn't something Tsu often partook in. Killing wasn't something he did freely or easily. But he is a criminal. Dangerous. We'd make things just a bit safer if we got him off the streets.
"Hm..." Tsu considered while Jaren spoke more. He'd probably have a few guards with him, but that was expected. The number, if Jaren's estimation was correct, was enough that Tsu and Ifrit could handle them on their own; with Jaren's help, it would be simple. Or it sounds that way. This stuff's never as simple as it seems...
"Fighting won't be a problem," he said quietly. Simply, as if it were an obvious statement of truth. He didn't tell Jaren about his own style and abilities; that could come later.
First Tsu had to decide if this was a fight worth having.
"Ifrit, come here. Take a look at this and tell me what you can find on this guy."
The droid moved at Tsu's bidding and looked at the datapad in Jaren's hand. "One moment, Tsubasa." Tsu nodded.
A few moments later, Ifrit spoke. "Bosh Duukal. Aqualish. Leader of the Blood Spears, a moderate local gang. Wanted for heavy drug trafficking, kidnapping, theft, murder. Reports of forays into taking slaves, but no currently confirmed cases."
Tsu lifted his brows, looking at Jaren. "Looks like you found us quite a fellow." Maybe going after him wouldn't be so bad. "What else you got, Ifrit?"
The droid turned around and his wings faded away, replaced by hologrpahic projection of the city. The cantina they were in was highlighted. "Bosh's gang seems to be focused in another sector of the city." The map moved, shifting the focus to an area a few kilometers to their east. "It is not the poorest area, but it is not wealthy. Many offworlders and refugees live here. It is likely he and his gang take advantage of them."
"Thanks, Ifrit." Tsu nodded, sighing. He looked at the map for a few moments more, then turned to Jaren, regarding him quietly. Weighing him. "This will be a dangerous job, I think. If we can even find him." He paused, wondering if he was making the right decision. "But, it's work well worth doing. So, if you do it, I'll join you."
He lifted a hand from the table, holding a lone finger up to add a condition. "But, I want to catch him alive, if we can. "
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last online Aug 31, 2015 15:47:05 GMT -5
Knight
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Jun 14, 2012 23:13:37 GMT -5
Post by Dr. Jake on Jun 14, 2012 23:13:37 GMT -5
Jaren's lekku wiggled as Tsu considered his offer. He was relieved to know that the Matukai was skilled in combat, as bounty hunting wasn't an domestic job. His skills would be needed greatly.
The Lethan simply watched as the droid accessed the datapad. He was pleasantly surprised when Ifrit pulled up detailed information about the target. Perhaps the little familiar could be useful after all. Jaren knew the target's name and base details, but there was no way that he would have been able to pinpoint the vagrant's location.
"Thanks Ifrit, you're a whole lot more useful than I thought."
He gave a boyish grin to the robot, assuming the droid would forgive him for being so facetious.
Gray irises situated themselves on those of his counterpart. His ultimatum was easy enough. Jaren didn't like killing either, and alive was always a requirement for CorSec. Besides, Tsubasa was going to be a great asset, and his demands would be met.
"No problem. He has to be alive for us to get paid anyway, and personally, I like getting payed."
Just the thought made him excited. The bounty from this low-life would be a great stride towards his ultimate goal. Jaren relished the concept, Captain of his own ship, lord of his own life.
Now that he thought about pay, Jaren entered negotiation mode. Tsubasa was probably a better fighter than he, and would be doing more than him in that area. However, the Twi'lek had found that job, and he was no fool when it came to combat either.
Glad to hear you're on board. As for the reward, I'm thinking right down the middle, completely even.
He figured it was fair enough. The pilot had little doubt that Tsu would veto his offer. If he did, Jaren was flexible.
Jaren waited for a response before continuing on. Deciding to get to the point, the Twi'lek shifted in his seat and spoke. His attitude had changed; before Jaren had been carefree and jovial. Now, he was serious.
"I believe there is a swoop and speeder shop on that same street. The place is probably controlled by Mister Duukal. Let's meet there say...0200 in the morning?"
Jaren paused to allow Tsu to answer before continuing on about his plan.
"From there we could probably break in and interrogate someone to locate the slime's precise location. Then, we could locate his residence and kidnap him, or go in guns blazing. However, I would recommend the former. Do you have anything to suggest?"
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