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Moonfire
Do I Wanna Know?
946 posts
240 likes
I showed you my lesbian undertones, please respond
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last online May 13, 2023 9:54:53 GMT -5
Community Manager
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Oct 2, 2018 23:00:29 GMT -5
Post by Moonfire on Oct 2, 2018 23:00:29 GMT -5
Qiki was, by all accounts, disgustingly wealthy. Her time as slicer and general holonet wastrel had done an excellent job of padding her and her associates bank accounts. Was she Hutt wealthy? No. Was she trillionaire playgirl material? Ehhh. Not really. But given her limited imagination outside of inappropriate clothes and electronic equipment there was very little damage her material appetites could do. She had more than enough money in her personal accounts to comfortably live in a colony world
This didn’t stop her from being a complete and utter trash person.
Waltzing through the house, evening gown tied up about her hips to land just around mid-thigh length, Qiki went about a most loving chore. Blatantly stealing this motherfucker’s shit. Reynard was an artist as well as a conman, his walls adorned with spotlighted pieces and lovely statuettes. Statuettes the slicer determined would look positively ablaze in Io’an’s room in their new casino-basement digs.
Lidah and the others were scoping out one room as Qiki quietly hummed to herself, plucking a rather risque golden figure-- a perfect example of the male form-- looking it over once before stuffing it too into her little satchel as she went. Another book about Mandalorian cultural and tribal works seemed like just the thing Avishan would enjoy. That too went into the carry all as Qiki, disappointed by the lack of old people fuckin’, looted the place.
Reynard didn’t seem to be here either way, the house stank of stale musk and lack of sunlight. Fucker must not enjoy that mountain air much, huh? Maybe he was with some mistress after all.
Pausing to look over a rather sparkling looking gem-studded collar a shadow flickered past, barely catching Qiki’s attention. “Dervish? Spooky? The fuck are you doin’?” The woman muttered, head tilting up as she tucked the bedazzled fetish gear behind her back. A huff of breath against her cheek forced the young woman back with a cry, hands moving up to defend her face as the hulking figure toppled against her and the desk she’d been looting moments before.
Reynard DeVoss had, surprise surprise, not actually run off with his mistress. He had holed himself up in the minimalist manse, wheezing with terrified rage. Tumbling to the desktop Qiki let out another startled cry, quickly strangled by something clammy and rough coming down across her face. Something all the worse wrapped about her body, crushing tightness as every molecule about her squeezed.
”Did they send you?” Reynard hisses hoarsely against her cheek, eyes glowing vivid startled purple, reflective in the low light. ”You can’t have it back-- It’s mine-- It’s mine.”
Qiki might have quipped, if not for the crushing force about her chest.
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Neology
Damsel out of Distress
1,489 posts
711 likes
addicted to bad ideas and all the beauty in this world
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last online Apr 27, 2024 19:36:01 GMT -5
Administrator
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Oct 4, 2018 19:52:00 GMT -5
Post by Neology on Oct 4, 2018 19:52:00 GMT -5
[googlefont="News Cycle"]
”Hmm. Maybe?” Lidah hovered uncertainly over the body for a moment, fingers reaching out and then curling in as she thought better of it. It would take a more thorough investigation to say for sure what had killed the dog. Though … There were no other marks that she could see on the animal, that in itself reason enough to be cautious. She wiped her hands on her slacks and stood up, taking a few steps back.
The floor was a dark wood, flecked with the same dust that filled the air. Whitish particles, no doubt the result of DeVoss’ gem cutting efforts stirred up by the home’s air conditioning system. Probably not good to be breathing this stuff in, actually … She identified droplets of blood, still tacky in the center, and winding tracks from the animal. Their own passage, of course.
No real signs of a struggle, though. Poisoned? It was not impossible for Reynard to have other enemies.
”Well, we’re looking for that, by the way.” She pointed at one counter, where a row of discarded replicas sat in a neat row. ”Too bad Nabbu’d know a fa --” A muffled scream ground Lidah’s thoughts to a sudden halt.
Not Bo, not Speartip. They were both right there. Where’s Qiki? Lidah was suddenly off like a shot, clumsy as it was in an unfamiliar house.
She no longer sensed two strange presences, but one. Warped and aware that it was being looked at.
This was all wrong. Reynard hissed in the girl’s ear, teeth grit so tight that he thought they might pop, that his jaw might break. It wasn’t enough to distract from his throat – he couldn’t swallow at all anymore. Cooling spittle trickled freely from one side of his mouth, threaded with iron-smelling blood.
“Who sent? … How many?”
Lidah caught herself in a door frame, staring, every fine hair on her neck standing on end. A lean blonde man of indeterminate age held Qiki pinned. Upsetting but not remarkable given the circumstances.
Much more astounding was the fact that every object in Reynard’s study appeared to be floating above the ground and rotating counter-clockwise.
”Oh fuck.”
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Ash
Ash Ash Binks
835 posts
103 likes
Comic line loading.
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last online Jun 5, 2022 10:09:17 GMT -5
Guardian
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Oct 4, 2018 21:42:23 GMT -5
Post by Ash on Oct 4, 2018 21:42:23 GMT -5
"Too bad it cant be helped now."
Darmid left Lidah's side, backing out of the room as it looked to him as useless to stick around. Instead he pocked around, looking into a second room, which was sparely decorated. He browsed around the guest bedroom, looking through the drawers and whatnot for something useful. A nice little trinket would be cool to have. May even bring it back to...
Darmid shook his head, ridding his thoughts and left the room. His next door was a broom closet. A mop and broom clattered out into him, which he caught deftly in his hands. He went to put them back before a muffled scream touched his ears. He looked around, then reached out with the force, feeling Qiki with another. Nearby, Lidah took off down the hall.
He fallowed her, nearly crashing into her as she caught the door frame. He gave a burst of the force and rebounded off of it, spinning into the room and falling into a basic attack stance with the mop and broom in hand.
He could attack and save Qiki; knock the man out cold and they could question him later. Eyes scanned the room, looking as everything was levitating and slowly floating counter-clockwise. Yup... shit was getting real. This man looked to be in pretty bad shape, so he didn't chance attacking, as much as he wanted to.
"Hey... you're drooling a little."
Darmid moved with a bit of force, showing the speed that once made him so dangerous. The head of the mop went right into Reynard's head, hopefully with enough force to stun him and make him release his grasp on Qiki. He would fallow up as necessary, or let Lydia and Bo do their things.
"Should get extra pay for cleaning up your mess."
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flashfyr
Home is where every blaster scar has a story.
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last online Dec 13, 2018 14:53:44 GMT -5
Force Sensitive
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Oct 4, 2018 22:43:30 GMT -5
Post by flashfyr on Oct 4, 2018 22:43:30 GMT -5
The first thing was the noise. Even from the porch outside, Kyram could hear it: silence. Utter, dead silence. No footsteps, no audible alarms, no holo-devices. Despite the rummaging noises that her partners gave off as they searched the house, there was still no response. If someone was here, they were probably already prepared; all the more reason for Kyram to be more careful than usual. Each step she took was planted but light, ready to move at a moment's notice should someone jump out one of the doors. The second thing was the darkness. Someone had drawn the shades (or curtains) and left the lights off, stripping the interior of any luminescence, natural or otherwise. Why? He didn't come here to take his belongings and leave in a hurry- no, there wouldn't be a point in covering every window if that were the case, nor would there be in turning off all the light switches. There were no signs of a struggle and the door was still locked, so it was unlikely that someone had come to get him. If he ran, then why did he leave behind so many of his small, yet valuable trinkets? Mmmmm... Reynard had come to hide, at least for a while, but there was a chance he was still here. It would be impossible to know for sure until they searched upstairs, but it was best to stay in a group for now. As the trio entered the studio, the stench of death and powerful chemical aromas hit Kyram through her burqa. She glanced at the dog's crumpled body in the corner but quickly lost interest. Reynard came here to hide, and if no one had gotten in, then no one harmed the animal except for either him or it. The question was whose blood was laying in the center of the room. There were no other tracks on the dust particles, nor was there any blood in the hallway- and the door was closed when they got here. Maybe the dog had just succumbed to chemical poisoning in the air and limped off to die. The only thing left then was to search upstairs. Just as Kyram was about to turn around and head out, she heard Qiki yell from somewhere in the house. Lidah became a flash that bolted straight past the Mandalorian, but Bo certainly did not fall far behind. As soon as she saw the situation inside the room - Qiki on the ground with a lanky man on top of her, objects levitating around them - a million thoughts raced through Kyram's head within the span of a second. Reynard was wanted alive, and the safest way to bring him down would be a carotid choke from behind. Not an option though- Qiki was getting strangled by a man hopped up on adrenaline and her windpipe could collapse at any second with the hold he had on her. Lucky for them, their target also happened to be a Force-sensitive, so it looked like it came down to knocking him out as fast as possible. Darmid had the right idea with the mop, but Kyram yelled "$!^&!$^ STOP!" as soon as she saw what he was going for: Back of the head, far too risky with the possible vertebrae damage. The last thing they needed was a comatose or flat out dead person to interrogate. Instead, Kyram bolted to Reynard's side and delivered a swift but targeted kick to the upper jaw, looking to pinch the trigeminal nerve and knock him out that way. Although, there was certainly enough force to just make his skull smash into his brain too.
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Moonfire
Do I Wanna Know?
946 posts
240 likes
I showed you my lesbian undertones, please respond
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last online May 13, 2023 9:54:53 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2018 13:51:33 GMT -5
Post by Moonfire on Oct 5, 2018 13:51:33 GMT -5
CW: Gore.
Qiki wasn’t terribly unfamiliar with being crushed. She’d spent enough of her misbegotten youth thrashing away in cramped basements and clubs in Coruscant’s undercity, lost in the mosh pits and sweaty dance beats until the stank of teenaged angst and humidity choked. But this was really fuckin’ different.
She’d never been force choked for one. Nabbu had conveniently forgotten to mention his slimy con-man could lift whole livingroom sets with his fucking mind while physically and pseudo-mentally wrestling the diminutive slicer. Her body acted of it’s own accord, instinctual desires for air and freedom forcing legs to slip and flail, kicking at his shins as hands tipped in dirty silver nails clawed at any bit of flesh she could find, his skin sliding off like paper, staining her fingertips crimson. Pinned between the middle aged man and the desk she served to knock aside his papers and knick-knacks in a frenzy.
Reynard’s grip tightened, the various pieces of furniture and trinkets in his telekinetic grasp bobbing as oily, rotten fingers dug into the sides of the struggling Qiki’s face, leaving rough reddened grooves as she kicked and sputtered. His words melted incomprehensibly into feverish rambling, a statuette soaring towards the new intruders. Next a chest of drawers, an oil painting, an armoire. While Reynard’s attention was divided, his flickering jewel-rimmed eyes bore only into Qiki’s, he could sense the others like floodlights behind. Too bright. Too active. Painful to focus on even now.
Projectiles soared through the air as Darmid and Bo made their advance, Darmid’s first strike with mop handle missing as Reynard twisted, his hold on Qiki’s face released though the deathgrip on the Force about her throat remained. A solid thunk of handle to cheek reverberating through Darmid’s hand-- He’d struck Qiki, who thrashed with renewed vigor as her bulging eye swelled. Coughing uproariously the man tossed out an arm to shove aside his attackers with the Force, finding Bo-Kyram just a touch too fast for him.
The sound was sickening, like a too ripe melon bursting across hot pavement. Her kick struck hard against his upperjaw, exploding gore outward in a rain across his writhing victim as softened flesh and diseased bone spattered across wall, desk, attackers and Qiki. With a howling gurgled groan of shock and hatred the levitating furniture shook and shuddered violently before exploding outward to strike person or wall.
The world spun as the tightness about Qiki’s throat and body ramped up to crushing depths before finally releasing, Reynard’s limp body collapsing against her on the desk in a rush of dank, wet heat and gristle. Air wracked her desperate wheezing lungs with a painful, throaty gasp as she could finally, pissily breathe.
Reynard’s upper jaw had disintegrated from the force, oozing black and a mess of scattered teeth showing the lower jaw hanging lopsided, dangling from the right and bits of neck torn from Qiki’s ineffectual clawing. It looked less like a firm carefully aimed kick and more point blank slugthrower has blasted half his face apart.
Slipping down and off the desk, Reynard’s limp corpse following her, Qiki sputtered tasting half-rotted filth as she exclaimed. “Aw, fuck! It’s--It’s in my fucking mouth!”
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Neology
Damsel out of Distress
1,489 posts
711 likes
addicted to bad ideas and all the beauty in this world
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last online Apr 27, 2024 19:36:01 GMT -5
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Oct 7, 2018 14:58:52 GMT -5
Post by Neology on Oct 7, 2018 14:58:52 GMT -5
[googlefont="News Cycle"]
The others were hurtling past her, intent on DeVoss despite his grip on Qiki. Lidah would be useless enough in that scrum. Force Lightning was out of the cards; not unless she wanted to risk damaging Memento’s eccentric and utterly irreplaceable mind.
She reached out with the Force in another manner entirely, knuckles flushing pink and white as her grip on the door frame tightened. Reynard’s mind was completely unguarded and his pain flooded the tenuous connection like an overflowing teacup. The command she’d been forming fizzled away beneath the onslaught.
And then something else was flowing toward her, massive and alien and stretched over too much distance. Lidah scrambled to withdraw, Qiki’s plight momentarily forgotten. Reality, however, cut back in entirely of its own accord – a novelty coin bank struck her in the shoulder, a warm stinking mist splattered her outstretched arm.
DeVoss was dead. Staring at the mess that remained, Lidah picked her way through the wrecked furniture to Qiki. She guided the other woman out by the shoulder, gentle but insistent.
”Shower, now.” Reynard had clearly been unwell. It had to be recent – she truly believed the wife would have noticed something of this terrible magnitude. Add in the dead dog …
Lidah steered Qiki through the studio, surreptitiously pocketing one of Reynard’s crystal replicas, then through the master bedroom and into the attached bath. She turned the shower on and left Qiki her coat, retrieving her comm device from the pocket, and then retreated back to the bedroom. Dropping heavily onto the bed, she stared at her hands.
It was terribly unfair, really, how invisible things might sneak up and kill you. What had been wrong with DeVoss? They’d all been exposed to it now, if it was communicable. The pain he’d been in … She’d seen death before, in all its forms and in great senseless numbers, but that was something else. Possibly beyond endurance.
Lidah scrolled through alerts. Hutt fleets amassing over Nal Hutta. Travel advisories. Two messages from Locke.
What now? Their target was dead and Nabbu the Hutt was on the other side of a fleet of warships. As the Hutt’s self-appointed mouthpiece, the way forward was clear. Lidah made her way back to the study. Reynard’s remains had visibly shrunken in, frosted over with a thin white mold. The stink of putrid flesh was overlain with a sweet, floral tone. Combined, the effect was still quite nauseating.
”I am prepared to authorize the minimum payout – Nabbu understands that events beyond our control have made delivery impossible. In the meantime, I think we should burn this place down.”
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Moonfire
Do I Wanna Know?
946 posts
240 likes
I showed you my lesbian undertones, please respond
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last online May 13, 2023 9:54:53 GMT -5
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Oct 13, 2018 11:57:01 GMT -5
Post by Moonfire on Oct 13, 2018 11:57:01 GMT -5
”Shower, now.”
Less a suggestion and a more a direct fucking order. One Qiki wasn’t terribly fussed about fulfilling for her enigmatic employer. In fact, where the petite slicer might have cattily commented about how her associates handled the monster choking her to death, she instead stayed silent. Sputtering and spitting the grisly bits of Reynard’s face out of her mouth she couldn’t help but shudder and shake.
Her throat and ribs ached from the Force of DeVoss’ crush about her, the white stars of oxygen deprivation finally having faded into starbursts of pain as the adrenaline trickled out. Lidah’s firm hand lead Qiki to the bathroom, depositing the shivering young woman directly into the spray.
The water was hot, almost too hot. But it was better than the sour death and bone fragments splattered across her ruined evening gown. A few quick tugs and she’d managed to toss the sopping soiled garment to the corner of the shower, eagerly taking the fancy gelatinous cube of soap Reynard apparently stashed in there to smooth across her dirty skin. Tears, no longer held back by contempt and bravado, trickled down the woman’s cheeks lost amidst the water’s spray.
Fuck, that was close.
A few swipes of jelly, a hearty shampoo and a good cry later and Qiki popped out of the shower wrapping a towel about herself before scooping up Lidah’s offered jacket, striking nearly to the slicer’s ankles. Taking back her bag Qiki reviewed the various trinket’s she’d lifted from Reynard before frowning sharply, dumping the bag over the bed before deciding nothing was safe.
Even her equipment was better off being replaced than infecting Yo-yo, Avi or Reflex. No matter. A few quick swipes of her finger erased any digital signatures whatever Prazhi authorities might try and lift. Another handwashing and Qiki returned to the group, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Alright, losers. You heard the lady, let’s get the--” Hazel eyes skipped down the fine layer of mold over Reynard’s body, her throat itching at the very thought. “Jibbers Crabst. I’m outtie. I’m donezo. S’bad enough I got dead guy in my fuckin’ mouth I’m not gonna fuckin’ calcify or grow fuzz or whatever the fuck is happenin’ right there. Outtie. Bye.”
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Ash
Ash Ash Binks
835 posts
103 likes
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last online Jun 5, 2022 10:09:17 GMT -5
Guardian
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Oct 13, 2018 21:49:52 GMT -5
Post by Ash on Oct 13, 2018 21:49:52 GMT -5
Before Darmid could really do anything, DeVoss's head exploded in a shower of Gore that he couldn't entirely avoid, even with his speed. He managed to catch most of it on his jacket, protecting his flesh from it, but it was still something he wasn't ready for. Still, being no stranger to this sort of thing, he merely mentally shrugged it off.
"Well... That was an thing." He watched as Lidah ushered her friend off to the shower. Darmid stuck around here, watching the remains shift and change. He cringed slightly, leaving to stand outside in the hallway. Lidah came back and went inside, and he stood in the doorway as she spoke. He took off his gory jacket and threw it onto the ground, unneeded and unwanted.
"Burning it would be good. Should be staged like an accident."
Darmid left for the kitchen to begin to prep the place to seem like it was an accidental fire. Grease in a pan on high heat, left forgotten would work just fine as a good cover. He had it prepped but didn't start anything yet, going back to find everyone first as Qiki was on her way out.
"Fire is good to go, just gotta light the flame. If nothing else, I'm going to disappear. Let me know if there is any other work to be had."
With one last knowing look, Darmid left the room and building.
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Neology
Damsel out of Distress
1,489 posts
711 likes
addicted to bad ideas and all the beauty in this world
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last online Apr 27, 2024 19:36:01 GMT -5
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Oct 14, 2018 15:30:23 GMT -5
Post by Neology on Oct 14, 2018 15:30:23 GMT -5
[googlefont="News Cycle"]
”Yeah, sure.” Lidah shrugged, passing Speartip an anonymous black credstick after slotting it through her datapad. Five thousand Republic credits, hardly worth anyones time -- especially not hers.
But. Generous for a failure, she thought, when by all rights she should have left Nabbu holding the bag. Taking a sidelong look at Qiki, Lidah arranged for the other mercenary’s pay in much the same manner. Contact with a dying mind always left a bit of a psychic hangover, a tension headache that would be with her for hours. She wanted no further conversation with the strangers.
On the way out, Lidah removed one more item from the house: a recent 24” x 10” painting of a snowy landscape broken up by dark hexagonal spires. She could not say why she wanted it, exactly, other than that the works of a dead artist were said to appreciate in value.
The rented speeder whined as it climbed sharply above the DeVoss summer home, now well and truly aflame. Lidah circled it once, twice, searching for anything out of the usual. The other presence was gone now, had faded gradually into malignant silence in the moments following Reynard’s death.
This investigative trip had left her with more questions than before. Frowning, Lidah set a course for Soldon and dialed up her ship. Ingrey Hertz answered immediately, voice clipped and professional and wonderfully familiar.
”Hey, sorry. Can’t explain right now, but you need to take another route home. Use the Carden account. And uh, leave that guy’s spear on the landing pad.” Lidah hung up and let the silence stretch for an awkward moment. It didn’t feel entirely appropriate to take an apologetic tack with Qiki right now. To intrude on the slicer’s fragile bluster with her own fear.
”I can handle the ship alone but … I’m afraid we’re looking at a few days of leftover tea cakes and rat bars.”
A Dashed Rogue -- Fini
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Lidah, Qiki, Bo-Kyram, and Darmid have been exposed to [Redacted]. Keep an eye out for Movement II announcements for more details!
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