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Poludnica
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Jul 15, 2014 7:10:09 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jul 15, 2014 7:10:09 GMT -5
Fetid air wrapped around every being that stepped into Nal Hutta decaying marshes. Cassius could feel its thick tendrils tearing at the throat, causing annoying tickling. The tall man coughed stiffly, looking up to find only sickly green sky. The Hutt homeworld had no day and night, not in a way Coruscant did. There were just varying shades of viridity: from bright chartreuse to deep shamrock.
Heavy smog enveloped the planet, leaving the surface humid, warm and disgusting. It had been some time since the grey master had left safe embrace of the Core to hone his skills in practice but recent events proved the CEO he had neglected constantly improving himself amid real danger. The Sith boy's youthful arrogance and raw talent were at the end no match for his experience yet the victory felt Pyrrhic. The amount of energy he had to invest in bringing the Firrerreo whelp down was unacceptably high. This pushed Cassius toward passing most duties onto Devon and once more pick the sabers for a good old hunt.
The old contacts hadn't disappointed and quickly found a dark sider with a hefty bounty on his head. A street born mongrel, mixed enough for no one being able to identify the partaking species made quite a name for himself in the last two decades. His alliances shifted as dark inclinations dictated until betrayed enough people to lose any protection. Despite that the creature still stalked the night: killing indiscriminately for whoever paid the most. Cassius despised such beings that lacked any moral compass pointing due north. The bounty was a secondary incentive though, one he would most likely give away in a Corellian sector, upholding the opinion of a benevolent spirit in Nar Shaddaa human district. One lesson Cassius had never forgotten: such gestures always paid off. Not right away but later, in sold secrets and places to lay low for a while.
Now though he needed to focus on the hunt, already feeling pleasant thrill the moment his feet touched wet surface. Deep in Nal Hutta bogs were abandoned shacks, small robber's camps and tiny, multi species communities that kept to themselves. Among them, on a Northern hemisphere Errio found heaven. Cassius spent few days simply loitering the place, catching the dark scent. Following it until the mongrel hid his powers again behind a shield. That was a worthy prey. The Livco owner finished another patrol round and returned to outskirts of Jiguuna where he rented a room in a shady bar that served as a motel for seasonal workers.
Oh, how he missed rolling about in a filth...When younger, Cassius had much more tolerance for such inconvenience but saw it as own flaw rather than disgusting environment. Recent years had spoiled him, mellowed sharp senses and body. His wiry, muscled frame lost some athleticism and more often than he cared to admit, Cassius called in the Force to strengthen aging joints. I let myself go... The Liviana patriarch thought grimly when opened cantina doors.
The patrons looked at the new arrival, some recognized him, some immediately escaped with their gazes, upon noticing a light saber hanging from the belt. Cassius made no effort to hide his true nature on Nal Hutta. His dark blue robes were a tell tale enough, fashioned after comfortable Jedi outfit. Even without the typical, upper class glamor, the quiet, aloof human didn't fit in with the locals. Always impeccably clean, shaved, combed, spreading scent of an exquisite cologne he did carry this snotty, Core aura.
”Beer.” The man ordered with a distinct, Coruscant lilt to his Basic. The High Galactic cadence that betrayed his origin more than anything else.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Jul 15, 2014 18:13:03 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 15, 2014 18:13:03 GMT -5
Be it a trade dispute or missing person’s case, there were very few problems in the galaxy that a High Councilman of the Jedi Order couldn’t solve; the assignment Tyriel had volunteered for was no different. Much to his dismay, the Miralukan Jedi Master’s duties had kept him cloistered up in the Temple during all but the rarest of times. Every such time had him all but leaping out of the temple on whatever assignment he could get his hands on. In this case it was a string of murders that had obviously been killed by a practitioner of the Dark Side.
“Dark Jedi”, as less informed people put it, was one of the misnomer’s that Tyriel misliked. Some of them may have once been Jedi, but they abandoned the right to be called Jedi around the same time that they abandoned their love for lives other than their own. His mark’s trail had criss crossed most of the core worlds until, finally, it lead to the shining jewel of the Hutt Cartels: Nal Hutta. The fact that it was situated in the mid rim told the aging master that perhaps he had finally found his quarry’s ground, and so would end the reign of terror that the misguided soul had wrought upon the galaxy at long last.
A lone craft slid through the noxious skies above Jiguuna with an odd type of silence. Somehow the vessel managed to conjure the image of a sleek predator despite it’s someone boxy attributes as it stalked through the air. The starfighter sized ship slowed to a stop when it reached the airspace above the spaceport only to begin a slow descent shortly thereafter. Anyone attuned to the Force would find their eyes drawn to the craft, and intangible light that seemed to be emanating from it.
Air hissed from the cockpit as the ship broke the environmental seals and the viewport rose half a meter only to slide further along down the fuselage. Rancid air almost immediately assaulted the old pilot’s nose, but if he found the smell insulting he showed no sign of it. He let out a soft grunt of pain as he rose from the seat that he had called his home for the past few hours, and hobbled himself out of the cramped starfighter until both of his boots met with the durasteel deckplates. Solid ground. Thank the Force. I don’t know how much longer these old bones can sit in that damned fighter.
Had the deckhands been less absorbed in their game of pazaak and more alert towards the newcomer they’d have noticed that a simple wooden cane seemed to float into his grasp on it’s own accord. Perhaps they’d have noticed the spartan robes he wore, or maybe even the sash that shielded his eyeless sockets from view. Instead they merely focused on their game, stopping only to take a few credits from the old man as he hobbled by in his cane.
Tyriel had learned long ago that the best information one can hope to attain was from an adjacent barstool and over a glass of cold liquor. Unlike the space port he could feel eyes upon him as he hobbled through the shanty town that had been erected in the Hutt’s shadow, but paid no heed to them on his trek to the bar. His business wasn’t with any Hutt so long as the murderer hadn’t used them as a port in a storm. Any Hutt that stood between him and his quarry would be moved aside, or torn apart. Whichever was necessary.
Thankfully the inside of the bar smelled considerably better than the outside, which would make things go much more smoothly for all parties involved. Something was different, though. Something caused the Force to churn and wroil within the bar; it’s source was powerful but thankfully held no malice. It took Tyriel no time at all to discern the cause of the powerful shift, as he’d spent most of his recent life around beings no less powerful than the titan that sat before him. Ironic, as the older man wore deep blue Jedi-esque robes that weren’t unlike the very ones Tyriel wore. He sidled into a seat beside the powerful man, offered a small smile towards the barkeep, and spoke with the same gravelly voice that had caused hearts to swoon half a century prior. “Corellian Red.”
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Jul 16, 2014 10:38:55 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jul 16, 2014 10:38:55 GMT -5
There was stirring in the Force: powerful but light. Cassius could feel it coming closer, brushing against edges of his senses. He listened to it, touched every thread, danced around its meaning. A Jedi, or someone whose heart is close to such code. His mind quickly raced through possible scenarios. That could be an issue...or a help. Depends. Lightsiders were funny like that: often obnoxiously righteous, with low tolerance for moral ambiguity. Sometimes they knew what had to be done. Cassius and the Jedi existed in fragile equilibrium. He moved out of their way, never slipped into darkness, even if sometimes brushed against it. Some resented him, some treated as an ally, some only waited for a moment he would fall. That was the purpose of their Order, because without it, the dark side would swallow them. Every day Cassius remained neutral was an insult it seemed. Insult against their firm belief everyone eventually fell. Like any gathering, they tried to control this power, creating false sense of safety. Right under their light nose Sith Order seized planet by planet.
Deciding to stay, waiting for inevitable confrontation, Cassius pulled out a silver cigarette case with Pius Dea symbol engraved into its surface. An ancient trinket, well polished and cared for. Given Liviana family eons ago when a species still mattered. His long, pale fingers fished out one paper stick before putting the case on the counter. The bartender appeared out of thin air, offering fire. Surprised by the quality of service, Cassius inhaled soothing smoke. There weren't many simple pleasures he endorsed but smoking had this calming quality. It was a bit of luxury from Coruscant, locked in exquisite cigarettes. Accompanied by rather cheap piss called Nal beer but thankfully the smoke put to sleep most of his taste buds. With a lazy gesture Cassius gathered cold dew from the glass when the doors opened. He felt another Force user before even laid eyes on him.
Powerful. Cassius summed up inwardly, taking a leisure sip from the glass. His posture relaxed, expression indifferent. Borderline boredom. Keeping any worry hidden, locked away behind the telepathic shield. Carefully constructed just as the stranger sat down. Coincidentally next to him. Only then did the tall human spare a glance, noticing the band covering the new arrival's eyes. Miraluka. Cassius sighed, he wasn't fond of aliens, but some tolerated more than others. Some were only offshoots of humanity, closely related to call them lesser brothers. Hapans, Lorridans, Miraluka. Those were passable, if only earning a small credit of doubt. Also, such power he could appreciate. It required discipline.
The man said nothing personal, only ordered a drink. His voice was strangely alluring: deep, resonating with impeccable cadence. For a while they sat together, aware of own nature but quiet about it. Cassius took another sip, his thoughts touching the surface of the crowd's white noise. We could be in troubles...Are they Jedi?...I lost too much today. They swirled, multiplied until he didn't shut them off to focus entirely on the Miraluka. ”You are far away from home, Jedi.” He started, risking to voice what intuition told him. His voice lacked threat, or malice. Just a simple statement, spoken in a soft hush. Followed by a quiet offer of a cigarette as Cassius gently pushed the case toward the older man.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Jul 18, 2014 17:55:45 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 18, 2014 17:55:45 GMT -5
Thankfully the barkeep attended to Tyriel's needs in no time at all; he found a cup full of Corellian red ale weeping before him. Pale fingers wrapped around the cold glass and immediately felt the chilly moisture that had gathered around the cup. Most men’s thoughts would be directed at the delicious ale in their grasp, but Tyriel’s mind was more focused. Both his aptitude for the ethereal and his own grasp on Force Sight told him that the man flirted upon the precipice of the Dark Side. He was grey. One expects a dark practitioner to act irrationally or violently, but the intent of the middle-of-the-fencers was far less apparent at first glance. It put him on edge. After a moment’s hesitation, Tyriel brought the chilly cup to his lips for a quick taste of the bitter sweet beverage.
And then the man spoke.
“Aren’t we all,” that deep voice spoke to the orange-red beer just before it passed his lips. He hadn’t bothered turning towards the man as he spoke or after, but rather continued to look off into the permacrete walls as if deep in thought. Six decades of servitude within the Jedi Order had taught him two things; there was no such a thing as coincidence or luck, and Force Users are often drawn together like moths to the flame. The first was a common platitude that most Jedi spewed out, but the second was far less known.
“Tyriel.”
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Jul 20, 2014 11:16:53 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jul 20, 2014 11:16:53 GMT -5
The Jedi ignored the offer of a cigarette and for a moment Cassius considered the possibility Miraluka were blind to small, subtle gestures. They could perceive only things their sight focused on – a hypothesis absolutely agreeing with the inner conviction humans were inherently better. Or maybe the Jedi just chose to be rude but he certainly didn't make such impression. The grey master wasn't one to be insulted easily, years mellowed his arrogance. Cassius was many things but petty didn't belong in his traits. With a lazy gesture he hid the cigarette case, it vanished amid indigo robes. ”A bit of traveling never hurt anyone.” The tall man replied, deciding to dance around the obvious issue. Waiting to see who was more eager to know the others motives. He crushed the cigarette in a dirty ashtray, before catching the bartender's gaze. The barkeep hastily escaped with his attention somewhere else. Taking care of few used glasses but Cassius could see false pretenses in the forced movements.
We have a curious one... ”Pleasure to meet you, Tyriel.” The Coruscanti noble acknowledged but his gaze was still focused on the bartender's tensed posture. The Force briefly thickened around Cassius and a probing tendril of the Force licked the other human's mind. Check something in the back... Came the quiet whisper, carried on the intrusive strands that enveloped the young man's thoughts, gently molding them into an intent more than an order. Planting the seed of an idea as if it was his own. The barkeep blinked few times and put down the glasses. Without a single word he went through the doors that led to the kitchen, probably by now wondering what brought him there. ”Cassius Liviana.” The CEO offered once no prying ears were around. People in such places knew him by an alias, Darek and rarely got his true name but an aged Jedi deserved at least that.
With interest now he watched Mirlauka's reaction, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His name was known on Curscant by those that took interest in aristocratic life and politics. An old family with connections, tumultuous past and conservative views. A respected philanthropist for some, unreasonable stuck up racists for others. Jedi probably knew of him but ignored, maybe even closely watched. Living so close to the Order did play a role in strict attitudes he had toward the dark side: they would destroy him in less than a heartbeat if he slipped. Feeling the Miraluka's power, Cassius with cold rationality decided having Tyriel for an enemy could end very badly for him.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Jul 26, 2014 19:41:10 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 26, 2014 19:41:10 GMT -5
"Liviana," Tyriel echoed the man’s last name. Where had he’d heard that name before? His brow furrowed at the name. After a few moments of concentration he’d finally recalled the first time he’d heard the name uttered; Danica Liviana. At the time she’d had a powerful Dark Side practitioner on her tail, and he’d saved her from certain death. Certainly she felt like a good person at the time, but the more he looked back on the situation she was just a spoiled heir. Her prompt disappearance from republic space actually sent his suspicions into overdrive.
“Not long ago I protected a Danica Liviana from the clutches of a Dark Sider. you wouldn’t happen to know her, would you?”
Surely the odds of this man knowing some young beauty were a million to one, but even still he could feel a certain type of sameness between the young woman and the man that sat beside him.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Jul 27, 2014 9:17:25 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jul 27, 2014 9:17:25 GMT -5
His name returned like an echo and Cassius raised his gaze to look at Tyriel. The Jedi didn't comment on it at first but the grey master already knew it rang a bell. He focused on the beer, giving the aged Miraluka a chance to make own discoveries. ”No other.” The human admitted whilst playing with the ashtray, skillfully moving it through his fingers. Stopping mid gesture when Tyriel finally came to a conclusion that surprised, if not mildly shocked Cassius. He knew the story from Devon, it had happened shortly after his awakening. The human suspected one of his enemies trying to take vengeance on him, cowardly attacking Danica instead. A Jedi intervened, killing the vile creature and doing the Galaxy a huge favor. Let alone him. Cassius' gratitude was not something he generously gave – on the contrary. Now, however, he did owe Tyriel. Then again, if Danica had died, it would have spared him a lot of grief. No matter what the girl did, she was his blood. Hide pride and his fall.
”She is my daughter.” Cassius admitted, feeling strange knot tying in the throat. He swallowed it, feeling bitter taste of anger and fear. ”I owe you, more than care to admit.” The tall human offered, banishing pride that wanted to get in the way. Liviana always paid their debts. Feeling his hand trembling slightly, Cassius balled his hand into fist. ”Shame all your effort was in vain.” He added, leashing fury that slowly began to built under the cold, aloof surface.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Aug 3, 2014 22:33:14 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 3, 2014 22:33:14 GMT -5
A subtle nod displaced the man's chin downwards ever so slightly before it rose again. Tyriel had thought that the two had felt similar. One final swig of the pint sized glass had left the red ale little more than a memory and the Jedi motioning towards the barkeep as another. No sooner had he made the motion than he felt a subtle shift in the man's presence and that final, cold statement. Tyriel had little aptitude in the school of telepathy, but his sixth sense was sharp as can be.
It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
Sadness caused the Jedi Master's face to droop at the realization that Danica, this man's daughter, was likely dead. He recalled her face, the strange way she felt in the Force, and her 'passionate' reaction to his first appearance. She was certainly not a good woman, but something had endeared him towards her all the same. "I'm sorry to hear that, Cassius."
Those were the only words he could find. Tyriel didn't know her well enough to speak of her merits and refused to speak mere platitudes to peer that had lost family. He had endured such a loss in his youth, and would have loathed that type of ignorant sympathy. "I can't know what you're going through, Cassius, but I have lost, too. The feeling isn't foreign to me."
Could one construe a padawan as a child? Tyriel thought so, but he hadn't any children to compare the relationship with. That dull ache filled his heart at the memory of his lightsaber's blade engulfed in the boy's body, but he reigned the feeling in. Palar had chosen the dark side, and refused to be reasoned with. Love had nothing to do with the consequences that the boy had chosen, too many lives were at risk.
Wrinkles creased against the smile that pursed the old man's lips. Time for a subject change. "What brings the LivCo CEO to this," he made it a point to glance around the dive, "charming world?"
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Aug 10, 2014 12:32:14 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Aug 10, 2014 12:32:14 GMT -5
Cassius said nothing to the words of sympathy. He found comforting others a strange, alien concept even if understood how it worked. Sometimes even used it himself as a tool but took no solace in one. ”It was my fault.” Cassius admitted, frowning. ”I wasn't there for her when she needed me.” He added, understanding that this tragedy could have been stopped if Danica wouldn't have been let loose like that. Maybe closed in a mental institution where her mother truly belonged. This part though Cassius didn't share with Tyriel. That his child was alive and well, just living a life fit for a criminal rather than an heiress. With a rag tag street urchin that had dared to reach above own meek station. ”No, no you don't know.” The grey master summed up, trying to shifting the subject from the topic toward a bit more awkward but less personal to him. Empathy only made one weak, he didn't need it even if the fellow master meant well. In the Force he could feel the Miraluka's sadness, it made him uncomfortable. I don't want your pity. Cassius thought but didn't say a word. Instead finished his drink.
”I thought the Jedi aren't allowed to form attachments.” He commented, already ordering another drink. Fighting to dull whatever Tyriel stirred in him. Danica wasn't dead but betrayed him which was even worse. Nieraan was to blame of course – his child was weak, impressionable, addicted, moody. The Sith exploited it and twisted, probably only preying on her money. Like a parasite. Cassius felt a shudder of disgust nestling at the bottom of his spine. Fortunately the topic slowly drifted away from his matters and onto more comfortable ground. A soft chuckle escaped the grey master. ”Checking if I am up to no good?” He asked and shook his head. ”There is a dark sider here I am hunting. A killer and thief.” Cassius explained slowly, fingers dancing at the edges of the glass that had just arrived.
”I don't want any other father to suffer through what I have been.” The man continued. ”There is a hefty bounty on his head as well. One I want to give away for those that suffered because of him.” There was no better way to overpower a trickle of doubt than with a flood of naked truth. The human families he saved from hunger on Nar Shaddaa were an investment. Good deeds cost him almost nothing and often brought an ace hidden in his sleeve. For many he was a godssend, a good spirit that saved their children from poverty. An army of those who would vow Cassius Liviana was a decent, good man. Always an useful PR. Now, of a martyr and vanguard of light.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Aug 12, 2014 22:12:49 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 12, 2014 22:12:49 GMT -5
Tyriel’s only response to the man’s admission of guilt was a slight frown and a gentle nod against the cool plastic that held his ale. This man didn’t want or need the pity of an old, washed up Jedi that had failed one too many people. After a few moments of gazing at the heavy grain of the wooden bar he finished his drink with a few hearty gulps. It didn’t take long for the man to find another red ale before him with cool moisture beading at the walls of the cup.
Cassius spoke before he could bring the sweating glass to his lips, however, and he placed it back on the table to consider a response. A chuckle huffed past his lips despite the previous subject, “so the code says. If only we Jedi could become droids.” What the man said next, however, made the chuckle freeze in his throat and locked the drink’s position just off of the table. Moments passed before he finally took a hearty swig of the ale, and muttered into his cup. “Fate, the Force, or chance? I could never decide.”
Finally, he turned to speak to the man, “noble. But, no. No, I’m not here to check up on you. We’re after the same man, I think.”
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Aug 14, 2014 2:35:36 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Aug 14, 2014 2:35:36 GMT -5
As a man of cold temper that occasionally burst into chilly rage, Cassius knew very little about experiencing deep emotions. Hollow his master called him once in a moment of helplessness when met with aloof, confused gaze young Liviana had when faced another person's pain. For the next decades Cassius strove to cover this void with various masks. Strove to leash the beast that lurked beneath it. ”What is better than? To love and lost or never experience it?” The tall man hummed, recalling the one instance in his life he came close to adoring someone else than himself. The gnawing emptiness when Vanya died and destructive ire it sparked. Cassius vowed to never relive the experience, the shreds of any warm feeling evaporating with his lover's last breath.
A thoughtful smile ghosted across his lips when Tyriel pondered on the philosophical matter of their meeting maybe. Maybe something else. ”Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.” Cassius offered, deciding he vaguely enjoyed this conversation, even with Miraluka. The lesser brother to his own kind. ”Errio Razeba, a Nar Shaddaa assassin.” He confirmed just so they were on the same page. At one hand it irked him, the competition – Cassius was a lone wolf that preferred to hunt alone. On the other, a priceless opportunity rose: forging a friendship with the Jedi master. Powerful, maybe influential. An alien but still more of a cousin. To built power among the Hutts Cassius had to attain certain degree of flexibility.
”I will appreciate the help, from what I know Errio hired some local goons to cowardly avoid a fair duel.” The human continued, finishing off another drink. ”He isn't too smart but a clever, meanspirited bastard. Works for the Exchange.” What Cassius didn't mention was the fact Errio had been hired by competition to Cartels Liviana underworld Empire had ties with. The mutt became a nuisance that sabotaged his ventures – foolish and arrogant until Cassius didn't vow to take him down personally. Errio ran off with the tail between his legs, frantically covering his tracks.
”He will fight to the death.”
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Aug 22, 2014 23:28:37 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 22, 2014 23:28:37 GMT -5
Good question Tyriel thought at the man's comment. Somehow he'd never looked back at the years he'd spent with his beloved Siri in that light. Even if the last few had been soured by the woman's fall to the dark side, they were some of the best years of his life. Guilty as they were. A pensive smile slowly wrinkled the old man's face as his eyeless gaze peered off into the drink before him. Whether the man that sat beside him was a Jedi or no, there wasn't a soul that he trusted to know the past indiscretions of his heart.
It wasn't until the Jedi's quarry was named that he finally turned from the reverie that had veiled his mind from the world with a slight grunt. "Errio will try, Cassius. He will try." Some Jedi believed that all life was sacred. Tyriel didn't necessarily believe this, but extinguishing life simply wasn't the Jedi way. A child could kill, but it took a man to subdue another being and bring them before a court.
That said, Errio Razeba was no man; he was a monster. Tyriel had followed his path of destruction and broken families across multiple worlds. What resembled rage had slowly simmered within his heart at the memory of a father's face when he realized that Tyriel was there to talk about his recently deceased daughter a few worlds prior. That smile receded into nothingness and was replaced by the dispassionate serenity that was the hallmark of the Jedi. "Though," his said, "if you mean to implement a more permanent solution, I don't think I'll stop you."
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Poludnica
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Sept 11, 2014 3:39:40 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Sept 11, 2014 3:39:40 GMT -5
Melancholy caught the both men in their own minds, recalling their pasts. Those they had lost. Cassius thought about Vanya, a frivolous architect who embraced the hollow void that gnawed at the grey jedi. Not many knew the truth behind his mask and loneliness that came with it. Tyriel bore similar wounds or so Cassius believed. The Jedi's code of no attachments was probably one breached the most – it was unnatural, even for someone like him, to be free of any bonds. Even Danica managed to worm her way into his heart somehow, stopping her father from the rationally best solution: killing the girl. He felt betrayed, rejected and a failed parent – something Cassius couldn't help. There was sadness under this anger and pity. One the grey master refused to admit but it sometimes colored his aura cold blue.
”Don't they always?” Cassius offered, while hiding the cigarette case. Deciding against another smoke. ”Those creatures are pathetic like roaches but equally persistent.” He added, without even disguising disgust that tugged at the edge if every word. The man pushed away almost emptied glass and pulled out few chits, too many for the piss like drink but no one could deny Cassius generosity. Even in such craphole.
Gracefully, Cassius rose from his seat, already preparing his body for the incoming work. His muscles tensed lightly under the dark robes. ”I don't like killing and find no pleasure in it. On the contrary. If he can be subdued the better, but I also know him and his work.” He said, eyes trailing to the Jedi. ”Men deserve a trial, not beasts.” Cassius finished and patted a pocket where his saber rested.
”Ready for an evening hunt?” The grey jedi asked, trying to hide a smile. He didn't like killing but enjoyed the pursue. More than actually should.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Sept 27, 2014 19:25:09 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 27, 2014 19:25:09 GMT -5
Tyriel had barely opened his mouth to form a word when the last few words he'd said to Danica before her death slammed into him. 'And who are you to decide who lives or who dies? That authority is far beyond my station, and I'm a Jedi.' Rather than continue to speak about the death of a man, no, a monster, from a righteous standpoint he merely offered an assenting grumble.
Where Cassius rose from his seat with grace, Tyriel rose with a grumble and no small amount of effort. That simple wooden cane found it's way into his grasp and immediately to the floor. "Always," that rough voice was punctuated with a nod towards the door, "I hope you aren't against taking a vehicle. I'm not quite as fast as I used to be."
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
Guardian
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Oct 19, 2014 6:59:47 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Oct 19, 2014 6:59:47 GMT -5
The aged Jedi didn’t hide shortcomings of his body which came in an unpleasant pang. Cassius wasn’t getting younger but desperately wanted to force the time into stillness. He paid for expensive cosmetics, surgeries and medical interventions. It paid off, to an extent - the grey master looked like a man in his late thirties rather than nearing sixth decade. That were only superficial changes - deep beneath them his bones and muscles aged: losing its elasticity, resilience. He understood ageing, the concept of turning into ash so another generation could take over and evolution push its changes. Cassius knew all that but never accepted.
”I have a speeder parked near by - it saves most of trip through those filthy swamps.” He admitted, refusing to crawl in stinky mud. At least minimise it to necessary minimum. The Jedi followed him ,not without his cane and a weary grunt. Cassius looked at him: a mixture of pity and surprise in his steel green gaze. The Miraluka looked now even older than before and Cassius began to wonder how much this ancient creature would slow him down. Despite frail body, there was intimidating power swirling around the old master. A fate Cassius dreaded - to be formidable in the Force but with a body any skilled swordsman could destroy when coming too close. How long do you have, Cassius? How much till your physical prowess fails you? The grey jedi heard a mocking voice, an echo of someone he despised long time ago. The Liviana heir clenched his jaw, defiant, ready to fight against inevitable.
The air outside was even more rotten and stale than back in the tiny bar. Cassius sneezed, sniffing at the thick, bitter pollen around. ”This place reeks like a Wookie basement.” He complained with a sigh and walked toward a beat up speeder. As a business tycoon and Nar Shaddaa crime lord Cassius drove sleek, newest models of top notch machines. It was one of his vices, a guilty pleasure. He hoarded speeders like his daughter hoarded shoes.When on hunting missions, Cassius uses whatever old thing he could quickly buy and disregard. The model was probably older than Tyriel himself.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
Master
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Dec 10, 2014 22:18:34 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Dec 10, 2014 22:18:34 GMT -5
"A blind man could see that look," he sounded gruffer than usual. Blasted rotten Hutt world, "I'm sixty-five, and old wounds tend to pile up." Lie. The only weak part of him was his spine, and that was thanks to an old flame throwing him off of a sky-scraper. Only luck, providence, or whatever primates prayed at to keep the night at bay kept him from being jelly on some pavement.
"Besides," he smiled at the man, "I can move faster than you in a scrap."
But onto his new companion. Tyriel had always been good at reading people, and not necessarily with the Force. Few people knew how Miraluka perceived the world; to be honest the elderly Master couldn't hope to describe it to them. Even if he cared to; such diversions were interesting but ultimately fruitless. How can one describe observing the universe with an all encompassing, all powerful entity as a medium? If it were possible, the task was up to a wiser man than Master Tyriel.
A cough spat the man out of his reverie; oh did his 'old' mind wander so. Blood and bloody ashes the air was rotten. Before the man knew it he was sitting within the passenger seat of a speeder and waiting for Cassius to sit in the driver's seat. After a few moments of spying the dash he looked over at Cassius with a serious tone to his voice, "Jedi speeders dont have public radio. Or ports for datapad music."
Shunning attachments was one thing, but eschewing music during a drive? That was torture.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Dec 16, 2014 5:18:43 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Dec 16, 2014 5:18:43 GMT -5
Among the things Cassius dreaded the most, old age remained on the sheer top. Judging by the thick Force that swirled around Tyriel, the Jedi had been a powerful warrior now reduced to a permanent back pain. Through entire life the grey master relied only on own strength, but his body protested now against this kind of abuse. Knees ached, muscles stiffed and joints lost plenty from their early flexibility. Cassius only looked at Tyriel, mixture of sadness and pity marring his evenly sculpted features. He didn’t say anything to the Jedi’s confession, only he Force around him paled slightly, gaining bluish, gloomy tint.
”Better save your strength.” Cassius smiled back at the Miraluka.
They climbed into the speeder and the grey master woke its engine to life. The machine let out a pleasant hum. Oh, how Cassius loved this sound. He patted the desk affectionately before pulling the speeder upward. It accelerated rapidly, pressing the passengers into their seats. The grey master drove the sky cars like he lived: fast, dynamically and recklessly. He used the force to read the road ahead, listened to the warnings and let the unnaturally swift reflexes lead him. ”Let’s see.” Cassius understood the Jedi’s veiled request and touched the haptic keyboard displayed between them.
The music that came on the radio was both upbeat, loud and glamorous. When the singer hit the high notes of the chorus, Cassius began to tap his fingers against the wheel. We will, we will rock you. Went on the artist while the humid, swampy land beneath them grew smaller. ”Tell me if you feel something.” Cassius said to Tyriel, acknowledging Miraluka’s superior sense. After all they used it instead of eyes. Blind, force sensitive humans - still a step above completely alien near humans.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Feb 17, 2015 13:09:33 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Feb 17, 2015 13:09:33 GMT -5
"Oh, I feel everything nowadays," the man sniffed. The air was less foul within the speeder, but hints and traces of fetor could still be savored. The almost orchestral yet modern feel to the music was certainly pleasing and before too long he found his foot gently tapping the deck to the heavy beat.
Tyriel sat in silence for the duration of the short speeder trip into the bogs of Nal Hutta with little more than the music on his mind and in his ears. His perceptions had expanded out well past himself and the speeder. Life. Despite the ever present scent of rot and death, life still flourished. An unbroken chain of prey and predator, each one locked in the constant arms race known as evolution.
Tyriel's mind had just begun to muse on the parallels between the omnipresent conflict of the Jedi and Sith with Evolution when something dark abruptly flowed into his awareness. Most Jedi described Dark Side Adepts as an unnatural evil, but not the High Councilor. Nature wasn't calm and pleasant all the time. Nature was ferocious. Nature was angry. Nature was survival. Simply a darker side to the same coin.
At any rate, the being of fury and power lay in the distance. Judging by the sudden surge in those very emotions, he sensed Tyriel in kind. "You'll find him under tree shaped like a Y, but he won't be there for long: he's prepping a speeder for takeoff. He's sensed me."
Briefly, Tyriel mused if their quarry could sense his companion as a separate entity or was merely blinded by the overwhelming presence that the two men in close proximity exuded. One of many questions to ask upon his capture.
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