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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Apr 4, 2010 22:46:40 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Apr 4, 2010 22:46:40 GMT -5
Graffion's eyes snapped open as little alarms buzzed off in his head, the chrono built into his mechanical face telling him to wake up. His head slowly turned to the right, and his gaze set upon the digital chrono provided by the hotel next to the bed. "Damn." He muttered. "Off by two hours." Which meant he was going to be cranky today.
Every time he came to the Deep Core he had to deal with their stupid time-zone warp, and it ran wonders for his internal systems. The dramatic change nearly fried his face the very first time he'd come down to this side of the Galaxy with this mechanical face, the ship had come to close to some magnetic field of sorts. Graffion had been knocked unconscious. Needless to say, he got that little part fixed, but without extensive surgery they couldn't fix every glitch. Unfortunately, his internal clocks was one of those, and he forgot to re-set them every time. As usual, he never relied on the alarms of the hotel.
He rose from his bed and threw the covers off grumpily, not even bothering to pick them up. When Graffion woke up grumpy, house cleaning didn't have fun. He found the closet and opened it up, revealing a chest full of equipment. He found his clothes and dressed up quickly, within a minute, his shirt, pants, belt, knives strapped to forearm, blaster in a holster, threw his bandoleer on his back, and then lifted his Wookie-bowcaster. He inspected it for moment. His job today required subtlety and finesse. Bring it?
"Sorry hun," He murmured, placing it back, "But..." He grabbed a flash-bomb and threw it own his belt, securing it. After a final check to make sure all of his equipment was tied tight and ready, he threw on his cloak, yawned, and turned to the bathroom. An assassin's morning routine was only slightly different than a normal persons, even the greatest killer in the world needed to make sure his breath and pits didn't smell like hell...
And of course, brush his hair. After the more mundane tasks of making himself 'man-pretty' he took out a tad bit of gel, and wet his hair, then scrubbed it in, rinsed a tad, then pulled out the straightener. Some may call him a tad feminine, but he prided himself on his hair and it certainly had become a staple of his appearance. The day Graffion Maruhuey left without doing his hair was the day some poor guy with a contract on his head was having a *very* bad day.
Finally, his hair was finished and could styled. He did the same way he always does, long in the back, and then his bangs and hair cascading down in front of him, set to thoroughly cover his mechanical face and so that it wouldn't blow away at every little bend of the wind. He would have liked to have time for a nice, refreshing breakfast out on this industrial planet, but since he woke up late...He'd have to scarf something down and get to his kill.
The contract was on the corporate CEO of Brosco Corporation, owner of five different factories just in this sector of Empress Teta. He was a dead-man today, owner of not even his own blood, as it would soon be running into his carpets. Luckily he wouldn't have to worry about the price of steam-cleaning, or his fancy carpets.
The location was his penthouse. It had several security guards, no problem for Graffion, the lower guards wouldn't see him, the door-guards would be killed, and anybody inside of that penthouse would be incredibly unfortunate. They wouldn't even hear it coming.
The thought brought a smile to his face. High paying job, low risk. They didn't stand a chance.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Apr 11, 2010 5:49:58 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Apr 11, 2010 5:49:58 GMT -5
((Ending sucks, but, meh. I don't know. Tired of these shananigans.)) “Don’t you understand? Justifications are meaningless, nothing but self-satisfying and self-manipulating tools that individuals so deliciously fall for. They’re falling inside the black while thinking they’re reaching for a light. It’s pitiful. It’s wonderful.”
Why was she afraid? She turned, or tried to. Did she actually turn? Maybe not. The inkiness of this utter nothing hell felt like it was pressuring every inch of her skin. It invaded every breath with a heaviness that she could not have imagined on her own. Was she suspended? Was she naked? When she looked down, or so she thought so, she couldn’t see her toes. Attempting to look at her hand met the same conclusion. It was simply too dark to see anything. But, maybe she wasn’t moving. Her toes couldn’t touch anything, and when she endeavored into discovering a solid, she was uncertain of everything. Was she numb?
She was being deceived from inside her mind out.
“Darling, you’re leading yourself into a trap so willingly. Why so?” A voice reverberated. Not the one that spoke mere moments (or was it?) ago, sounding so close to her, like barely a hairsbreadth from her ear. Was it really? Yet it was so distanced like stuck behind a wall and she was only hearing the muffling. Was it truly?
Tesa began to feel a sense of panic. She thought her breathing was laboring, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know! Shedidn’tknow, shedidn’tknow, SHE DID NOT KNOW! The compulsion to scream crawled within her like a vile parasite, but she couldn’t make a sound. Were her lips glued shut? She couldn’t bring herself to answer the voice’s question!
Something lit up from the blackness. Literally. Everything was blank except this hand and forelimb that cut through the dark, making her midnight surroundings appear like they were a veil. And the hand did not glow, no, but seemed bathed in a natural light like hands would be in a sun. The hand cupped her chin, she believed (she could not feel a thing). Like theater lights growing from dim to light, the forelimb suddenly had a shoulder and that shoulder a torso and neck. That torso had another arm and legs. The neck had a chin, then nose and ears, eyes and hair. Tesa wanted to choke, and this time she heard her gasp of complete disbelief.
“Daddy…”
No! Why did her mind torture her like this! Bringing up unwanted images of her past! She was dreaming! Her father wasn’t here! He wouldn’t be! Nothing! Impossible! A dream! If there was one thing she was so certain of, it was that this was a dream! A dream, a dream, A DREAM! And yet, all her longing to shout this aloud, something restrained her, kept her from breaking the edges of this reality and shred it away with as much disgust and hatred as she could muster. She struggled inwardly.
Why so, daughter, why so?”
“Not…” She battled for the control and finally managed a long strain. “Reeeeeeeeal.”
Her father’s dark eyes suddenly shifted and changed. “I see you already know.” All at once, the health drained from the man’s skin. The clothes shimmered momentarily, transforming colors and style as they sagged on the boney structure the man became. The eyes sank back and colored an evil orange. A yellow-green became the decided pigment of the stretched skin. Nails grew on the fingertips that still held her chin, and THEN did she feel as those nails poked at her jaw like thorns.
Death had come for a visit.
And he smiled sadistically with far from perfect teeth. His hand moved and touched against her cheek. The brother hand joined and both of Death’s thumbs stroked against her cheekbones. She was suddenly aware of the horrible, dead smell. Repulsion rose within her as he stepped to her, petting her face with those bitter cold fingers. “I await your time, precious.” Her body was so cold and she was chilled with panicky fear. Those dead lips of his leaned forward, and when Tesa inhaled, she did so through her mouth. She tasted the death, the decaying smell attacking on her tongue, and the warmth of the moisturized air made her gag. Death’s putrid breath struck her face, and Tesa wanted to scream bloody murder. Out! Out! She wanted out! Away! ESCAPE! “Miss Tesa! Miss Tesa! Oh do wake up! You make the most awful noises! WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!” The dream was shattered. Eyes glared down at her, close to the hellish orange of Death’s face. Tesa immediate instinct was to swat it, make it go away! When she did, suddenly surprised by her ability to move, and her hand contacted the body above her nose. Tesa bolted upright, scrambling to see what the thing had been. In the half lighting of the room, she realized an eight legged thing righting itself on her white pillow. Irrational fear seized her heart and she jolted backward with a terrified screech. Madly flailing, she managed to upturn the pillow the sandwich the spider between the mattress and the pillow. Off the bed she went, getting her foot entangled in the bed covers, and tripping to the floor. Solid floor. Tesa paused there, adoring the cool surface pressed to her hands, her left cheek, her legs and toes. She was wearing light robes, too. The room wasn’t blacked out, she could see, she could move, and there was no death to claim her. Her heart was hammering, however, and enough to the point Tesa could feel the veins throbbing in her neck. “Miss Tesa, are you all right?” Her stomach bucked. In the slight memory of Death’s person, his rank smell and gross corpse scent, her stomach churned more. Tesa stood then, and quickly hurried for the refresher. Her gagging gave way into violent croaking retching. Moments later Tesa was sending the indistinguishable, half digested remains of the previous night’s meal down a drain. “I bet that was tasty.”Tesa plopped back on the ground, head smothered in her hands. “Shut up, Sane,” she whispered, voice slightly cracked. “Just shut up.” She shivered and shuddered, noticing then that she was sweaty. Tesa curled up into a little ball, feeling very oddly exposed. A long stretch of silence was suddenly broken when Insanus asked, “What is it that you are afraid of, Miss Tesa? She stiffened. What indeed. “Remember when you said fear is all in the head and the way to defeat it is by training to relinquish the fact that there is something to be afraid of. You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” Tesa nodded, looking at her droid balanced on the counter’s edge. She held out a hand, palm upward, stabilizing it with her knee. “So what?” he continued, spurting into the air for a moment and then settling into her hand. “It was a dream. For whatever reason, your head brought in fear. And it made funky little images. Do you see those images now? No. They aren’t real. There’s no reason to fear what isn’t here. What won’t happen. It’s fake. Do you dread a type of attack that cannot happen? No. According to your theory, you shouldn’t be quaking at something make believe that you saw behind your closed eyes.”“Sane…” “Yes?”“I love you.” All she needed was a little reminder then and again. Indeed. She shouldn’t be fretting over some stupid dream. Her consciousness was only trying to play games on her. “I’m afraid you’re not my type.”Tesa sighed and stood, holding Insanus close to her. Outside the refresher, she tossed the covers back onto the bed, making sure they sprawled on the pillow. No sense in that freaky spider getting out. She set Insanus on a metallic desk and shifted over to her travel pack. “I have to find him today. Might as well get an early start. Do you remember the lead we had? Some man who works in a diner and slips contracts out on the side. It was there or the guy in some pawn shop.” “Diner one first.” “Right…” She yanked her trousers right on, switched her puffy tunic top for another and in a different color. Shoving her feet into traveling footwear, she didn’t lace them as she stared into the mirror long enough to lift some hair and place it into a clamp. A couple bobby pins took care of pesky and awkward strays and then she laced her footwear. Her teeth got a good cleaning and she had a long rinse, getting rid of the taste of vomit. From the pack came an oversized jacket. Valuables and important devices, like her lightsaber, were secured in inner pockets and the couple of small pouches she had on her belt. Her bag was zipped and kicked under the desk where it would await her return. “Let us go then.” ~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~ “Don’t make me ask again! Or I’m very certain that the rolls of fat hanging on your stomach will be more than enough to make frying grease.” Tesa was leaned forward slightly, glowering at the man, willing his small head to implode. Her arms were spread wide on the counter, and each hand had considering drumming nails. His head was too small, he had insanely bushy eyebrow and a bald head beneath his cap. His head was pea shaped compared to his body. Tesa wondered how big his brain was. Why did it seem that every single one of the last contractors she’d crossed paths with was on the stupid side? Was Graffion cursed or something? Or did he like his fences dumb? Tesa wondered if he thought more about the job than the people he met. Assassins weren’t very social people, of course, surely he was tempted to whack off an extra head or two for aggravation relief. Unless he was business and only business, in the sense he killed as long as he was paid. “All right, yeah,” Tubby finally replied in a voice that was too high for his bulky figure. Tesa clenched her hands into fists. Oh the annoyance of it all! Some people simply should not have been born! “Yer long blond haired man and fake left eye was in here less than three days ago. I won’t say exactly when.” She didn’t need a when, she needed a where. “Did you give him a contract?” “I have an issue with saying…”The man trailed off when Tesa picked up a knife. She ghosted her fingers over it, staring at it fondly. “I would adore carving your roasted hide with this beautiful thing…” “Yes.”Tesa hated making this man have to fear her. It meant he would talk about her later. And when he talked about her, people can track her. People that she didn’t want could track her. Tesa hadn’t encountered a spy. Yet. If they were looking for her, they would find reports of her here, especially after this act with the fat man. She nodded, setting the knife back down. “Where? To what?” “Exactly what are you so hot about that you track doooooooooooooowwn… Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease put the knife down…”Upon hearing the beginning of the man’s protest, Tesa had swiftly twisted herself to the opposite side of the counter, where the overweight man was. A knife in her hand, she waved it in front of his face and tapped his puny nose with it. “Listen here…” she snarled, a hiss whistling through her clenched teeth. “You mind your business and I’ll mind my own. Now, I asked where and what. Are you going to tell me or do I need to cut something off first?” She poked him lightly with the point of the knife to make, well, a point. “There’s…” She saw the nervous, rotund man gulp. It’s still tucked with the rest of my contracts and information. And it’s in my little office in there. Ifya would jus’ let me by, I’ll get it fer you.Stupid man,” were her thoughts, “Stupid men who don’t know how to organize and will one day be killed of their stupidity and unpreparedness and you know what? THANK GOD if there is one.”~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~ Tesa praised her luck several times following the next few hours. She had gotten the contract information, erased it from the fat man’s hands, and then deleted it from the man’s mind. He was a bit dazed when he left. What pissed her off is the man’s fear of her was strong, stronger than she would have expected from a man who dealt with assassins on a daily basis. Given the man’s bulk, she had assumed that he would have assumed he could take on anyone with his lard butt. Obviously, that wasn’t too much the case. She’d left with her in the man’s memories. Damn. Following into the contract’s general location information, she had made effort of pinpoint nearby hotels and a couple of further ones. If Graffion had only received his target in the last three days (though she suspected he really hadn’t. Maybe he’d gotten it in the last day. At the most, the last two days. Not the last three.), then he would have stayed somewhere for sleep. Tesa was hoping so, at least. The first two checks at a couple of hotels resulted in disappoints. The only thing that had helped her was the practice on the sentient mind. She was able to flex her control of dominance over their will, to test her limits further and to improve on what she understood. It felt good to influence weaker minds again, after a time back on Korriban, trapped with the Sith who knew how to counter her. It made for awkward engagements if she ever did practice with others. With no trust among the initiates, it was hard to get any real practice without them freaking out and growl out shots about how she, Tesa, was trying to truly control them. They would never comprehend. Now she loomed close to a woman behind a desk at the third hotel. No one was in the lobby, and it was still slightly early. With gambling and a bar so close, Tesa didn’t really expect to see much of anyone. In case though, her body shielded the woman from sight of the elevator doors and the entrance. The woman was sniffling and her green eyes were wide as she stared at Tesa. The woman hadn’t run away, screaming, when Tesa had dragged up a fear for the woman to witness. Instead, she had stiffened. The woman saw Tesa now and there was uncertainty in the orbs. Tesa know stood on a line, a line of that fear being directed at Tesa. This day was turning to be absolutely fantastic. This fear toward her made her feel dirty. The woman sniffled. “Will you stop doing that?” Tesa snapped. She felt Insanus lean forward on her shoulder. “You brute! he exclaimed, to her. To the woman, he continued, “Don’t feel bad. She makes everyone cry. She’s like a monster.”“I’m not a monster!” Tesa nearly shouted. Insanus continued for her, “Is there or is there not a Graffion Maruhuey. Inch shorter than her, distinctive long blond hair and a mechanical left eye. Rather buff guy, too. Can’t miss him; he’s like a bruised green thumb. Usually in some kind of cloak. So, a very smancy dressed, bruised, green thumb with blond hair. You seen him?”How did I end up with this droid?“H-h-h-he left. Already. G-g-g-g-gone. Didn’t sign out. Should be back.”“Dammit.” “Is there a reason you n-n-need to contact him?” “She needs someone to burn with her in that special level of Hell.” I’ll kill that bird.“Can you leave him an anonymous message please?” “S-s-s-sure. Shouldn’t be a p-problem.~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~ There was one thing about assassins: they could be as tricky as spies. Assassins also learn to sneak. They just kill at the end of the sneaking session. Spies were knowledge consuming and absorbed into their sneaking. Sometimes all they would notice was their target, and that got them caught. And spies fell into easy routines and relied on their eyesight far too much. It was hard to estimate when following someone. There were simply too many variables. Thank the galaxy for the Force. Variables were easier to handle and Tesa could afford to estimate a little. She wouldn’t have to follow Graffion all the time. Only some of the time. Except, Tesa needed a refreshment of Maruhuey’s presence in the Force to properly evaluate her variables. This disruption in her plan made her furious, and as she lagged behind and followed Graffion’s swaying ponytail, she seethed. This day was simply not going well. Insanus was pocketed in the oversized jacket. Tesa walked nonchalantly with her hands stuffed in her pockets. At every turn, she paused a few seconds, and then took the same turn. She gritted her teeth, glaring at Graffion’s back, frustrated by her lack, her inefficiency. She just needed closer, but she didn’t want him to suspect her! He vanished around a corner and Tesa instantly slowed to a stop and leaned against the wall, counting seconds.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Apr 12, 2010 2:12:00 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Apr 12, 2010 2:12:00 GMT -5
Graffion strode through the crowds, his cloak on, hood down. It made him obvious, his bright blonde hair, but nobody here on Empress Teta really knew him. Even the local law-enforcement didn’t know his face, or even have a –wanted- bounty on him. Graffion had been to this planet twice before, but neither time had he ever been caught or recognized, and the fences he’d dealt with a long time ago were now dead or had moved away. It didn’t really matter, the fence he’d dealt with earlier today had the proper contracts, just the kind of job he’d needed. So he wasn’t too picky.
There was also something odd about his journey to the penthouse. At first he hadn’t noticed, but then he slowly began to realize he was being shadowed. When he turned around, he saw a figure. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for pedestrians to be going in the same direction, but this was different. It was a form, feminine in proportions from his glances, that would appear and disappear. Sometimes he’d see her, other-times she’d be gone, probably waiting around the back or behind other pedestrians. It was quite annoying. After a while, Graffion decided that she, whoever it was, was following him. Probably an Upezzo spy. He thought bitterly. I should kill her. I told them to stop following me.
He reached down to his cloak and his hand slowly rubbed against the razor sharp, curved knife at his belt. It would do nice to wait around a corner and come down on her, carving out her throat. Only problem with that is that Upezzo spies came in pairs. Where was the partner? He couldn’t tell. So either they’d split up or the other one was waiting to jump in and save the day. Which meant Graffion’s best bet would be to lose her. His hand reached from the knife at his belt, and slowly slid to something else. It was a smooth, metallic surface, round in shape. A flash bomb.
He unhooked it from his belt. He was only a block away from the building. If he caused a rucus now, it would bring the local law-enforcement. That was fine by him, he planned on being long, long gone by the time anyone even reported the death of his victim. Besides, police were never a problem for him. If you avoid direct confrontations, you could always fool them. Even if they found you, all he needed to do was kill his way off this planet and sneak out of Republic space.
He gently plucked the little sphere of his belt and fiddled with is on his sleeve, slowly turning it in his hand a few times. He moved his right hand, his throwing hand, gently behind him. The people directly behind weren’t paying attention. Where was that spy, then? He didn’t glance backward, that would let her know immediately. Instead, he turned on the street corner and headed in a different direction, taking himself in a round-about route from his target building. If the person following him knew where he was going, then they’d hopefully assume he was circling to find a back entrance. If they didn’t, then there’d be nothing suspicious about his movements. Then again, he did turn rather sharply. He cursed quietly under his breath, walking backwards for a moment, head turned to stare at where the person would come around the corner.
He felt movement directly behind him, real close, making him uncomfortable, and they were coming right for him. His right hand shot to the curved dagger, unsheathing it but keeping it behind his sleeve so it was unnoticeable, then he stepped out of the way, turning toward the person. It was a bumbling Rodian who hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going-no, not just not paying attention, drunk. It slipped forward, stumbling, one hand reaching toward Graffion’s shoulder, turning and breathing its rank liquor breath on him.
“Hey…” He said in a slurred basic, “Get out of the way.” He said, eyeing Graffion in a rather disgusted manner. It made him feel uncomfortable, and the way the Rodian stepped toward him, invading his personal space, repulsed Graffion. Forget the spy. Let her follow his bread-crumbs, he wasn’t going to let this slide. Frustration and anger suddenly welled up inside of him. Who did this blue-green little guttershite think he was? He looked at his hair, and the Rodian laughed in a bubbly, screeching voice. “Who do you think you are, strutting down the street’s with your ugly-”
The rest of his words were just a gurgle as Graffion stepped to the left and forward, bringing his curved blade up to the Rodian’s soft, exposed flesh. The carving of his wind-pipe was so quick and efficient the Rodian didn’t even notice until it looked down to see its on blood running down it then it was flying forward as Graffion placed the daggered against the man’s armpit sleeves, and punched him hard in the back, sending the thing racing forward against the wall, and cleaning off his bloody dagger in the process. He put it straight into his sheath.
Graffion turned around and ran, turning through the crowds and speeding into an alley. The police would be here, that was for sure. Graffion replayed the moment in his head again and again, enjoying the replay. Some creatures were too, overwhelmingly stupid to let live. He hoped, that in it’s last moments, the disrespectful fool had been in great amounts of pain. If there was anything Graffion didn’t like, it was a disrespectful stranger, worker, or servant of any-sort. People who picked on others for the sake of their own sadistic pleasures, and down-right stupid arse-holes.
Graffion had thrown the hood of his cloak up, which he’d have to do for the remainder of his stay here now, and hadn’t stopped until he was at his destination, where he ran into a little alley and slipped into the darkness.
Tucked between a dumpster and a side-entrance, he smirked. Now all he had to do was find a way into the building. As it was, this door here could only be opened from the inside-
Lo and behold, imagine his luck that the door opened up just as he was thinking that. A room-service worker on break stepped outside just then, another one following closely behind him. It was a man and a woman,
“You’re what?” The man asked, rubbing his temples roughly, obviously stressed. They stepped out and propped the door open with a stopper so they could get back in when their conversation was finished.
“I’m pregnant.” She replied, looking down at the floor, tears rimming her eyes. Neither of the two saw him, tucked safely in the shadows. Graffion’s head cocked to the side, unable to slip into the building just yet. They were too close, they’d see him if he even moved. As it was, if he stayed perfectly still, he was invisible.
“You…You can’t be!” He shouted, “Who’s the father?” Graffion smirked. who do you think, moron?
She stared down at the ground, crying. Crying because this man was a dead-beat father? Likely. Or he would be one. It was something seen all across the Galaxy. Graffion didn’t think much of the art of parenting, didn’t know much of it. All he’d seen his whole life were crappy, irresponsible parents.
“It can’t be me!” He shouted, furious. Oh, was this an angry denial? “We haven’t even made love yet!”
It seemed to hit the lady like a punch in the gut. Graffion cocked his head to the side again, now things were getting intriguing. He’d heard many private conversations he wasn’t suppose to before, but this one took the cake on dramatic. It was almost interesting enough for him to care. “It’s Master Gherring’s child.” She said, tears splashing down on the floor now.
Shorus Gherring was the name of the man whom Graffion was to kill. Apparently he was taking advantage of the house cleaning. And he was –married- man. Graffion silently shook his head, My, my, Mr. Gherring. You’ve been misbehaving.”
“Oh…” The man said, his fury gone. A sudden fear took over him, “Does he know?”
“No.” She said, “But if he finds out…He’s not going to like it. He’ll force me to terminate the child. He’s married. He doesn’t want his wife to know.”
“That bastard.” The man whispered, clenching his fists. Maybe he wasn’t a dead-beat after-all. “I’ll kill him.” He whispered, but not loud enough for the girl to hear. Graffion could only hear bare mutterings, but he could read lips well enough. The flash of murder shot through the man’s eyes. He planned on killing Mr. Gherring and saving the child. How noble.
“Just…Stay here.” He said to her, “You…And the child…could use some fresh air.”
He left her then, heading into the building. Graffion waited until the girl turned away and wept, and then he slipped into the building as well, following the man through halls, keeping to shadows and dodging out of sight of other workers. The man walked through a kitchen, Graffion sped around it, taking side halls, and finding where the other end of the kitchen was, opening up straight to the lobby, near the elevators.
Graffion casually entered the lobby, his cloak off and wrapped around one of his arms like a coat. He seemed like an ordinary patron, inconspicuous enough. The apartment complex here was large, ten stories high and with quite a bit of rooms. There was only one room Graffion was interested in, though, and that was the penthouse. There were only two entrances, and those were the balcony above or the service elevator.
The man who Graffion had followed entered the lobby now, pushing a room-service tray. Conspicuously resting on the side of the tray was a large knife. Not the ideal murder-weapon. This man was a fool, a noble fool. He didn’t even think out his plan. He was just rushing to the kill. If Graffion allowed him to go through with his plans, he may have to wait another few days before things calmed down enough for a clear assassination attempt.
Now he cursed his bad luck. Graffion strode quickly across the lobby, passing by the guys path as he moved near a hallway. Graffion’s arm snapped out, grabbing the man by the neck and snatching him away to a secluded hall and shoving him against the wall. The man stared at Graffion wide eyed. Graffion cocked his twitched his head and moved the hair out of the way, revealing his mechanical face, and a wicked grin; “You moron.”
“Wh-what?”
“You’re going to get yourself killed, with nothing to say about it. Mr. Gherring’s security isn’t retarded. You won’ slip passed them, and you’ll get dead. Then your girlfriends child will die as well.”
“How did you-”
“Shh…” Graffion put his fingers to his lips, “I’m an angel.” He said, “Your guardian angel. Now you go back to work and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of your problems, but don’t say a word about it.”
The man stared for a few moments, and Graffion almost thought he saw relief, even naïve belief that perhaps Graffion –was- an Angel. He smiled, then turned the man down the hall, “Now get back to work.” He shoved him roughly. Graffion’s eyes narrowed as the man stumbled forward, and turned back to face Graffion. When he turned though, Graffion had thrown his cloak on and turned round, heading down the hall, the cloak waving behind him. To the man, it was almost like a little cape…
Cursing silently at how unprofessional this whole job was going, Graffion walked through the halls for a bit, considering calling the whole thing off for a moment. His cover was already blown thanks to his temper with the Rodian. He would have to get off planet soon, get to his apartment, gather his things, and be gone within the next for days. When the investigation got witnesses claiming the bright haired man, he knew for sure it was only a matter of time until someone spoke out and they discovered where he was staying.
So in many ways, his chance for discrepancy was gone. The question now was did he go in guns blazing and just kill this bastard or did he still try to slip in silently? With the police so close, he wasn’t sure that he could get out of the building in time if he just charged. So he’d have to be a silent knife. That was fine. Tonight may be a challenge.
Graffion’s first order of business was take out the security alarms. He found a security room on the first floor, tucked away in the back of the building. A man sat in his chair, watching a few cameras, and around him were the buttons that shut-off alarms. ( In case of a false alarm or such ) All he needed to do was deactivate the system.
Graffion picked the lock and slipped silently into the room, the door gently opening, the man lazily sitting, yawning. Slowly, absolutely silently, Graffion approached, making sure not to cast any shadows. Luckily, the only light came from the screens in front of the man.
His hand clamped over the guards mouth and his knife sawed through his neck, then Graffion immediately got to shutting down the security, leaving the bleeding guard slumped in his seat. Now, it was only a matter of getting into the service elevator and sneaking passed the front door-guards. From what he knew, there was only one service elevator, which went up to the penthouse floor. There was a short hallway that held two armed guards, and then the penthouse itself.
Graffion locked the security door before clicking it shut.
( Now’s your chance to get Tesa into the Penthouse first, if you still want to do that. )
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Apr 27, 2010 1:47:37 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Apr 27, 2010 1:47:37 GMT -5
She knew she was in trouble the moment Graffion had quickly taken a second corner. That wasn’t good. That meant he knew someone was shadowing his very step. Which made her think how he knew. Tesa understood Graffion wasn’t an amateur assassin, but most assassins hardly thought about people following them. Assassins stalked and clouded themselves so much to the point so many believed that they could never be followed themselves. The fact Graffion knew let Tesa know of his awareness radius, and what he looked out for. Tesa herself thought of her abilities to track were fairly well, and she utilized tricks that the common spy/hunter/tracker could not. If Graffion had indeed picked her out from the crowd, then he was used to finding someone behind him.
Well, that was dandy. Who would be following Graffion often enough that he LOOKED for them? Tesa scowled as she lengthened her stride and squared her shoulders a bit more. She took the far left of the walkway, the furthest point she could get from the corner. Her plan? To approach the corner and walk right by. It was a weak and spontaneous plan, sure, but it was the best chance she had. Either Graffion had noted her enough to know her as she appeared, or he didn’t have enough details to convict her his stalker. Tesa hoped for the latter so she can walk by, melt into the crowd, watch his suspicions die, and then proceed to follow him.
A loosely clumped, slowly moving crowd had gathered in the seconds it took Tesa to reach the corner. She adopted the persona of a curious citizen as she slowed to a halt, as far from the corner as she could get. As she turned her face, she saw Graffion and a rodian, and choked back a laugh. Surely, there was something utterly wrong with her mind. The drama before her wasn’t funny to neither onlookers nor Graffion. The rodian was in a position where he was severely in violation of Graffion’s personal space. Tesa was smirking, knowing this wasn’t going to end well for the rodian and more than a few people were going to be startled.
The longer she lingered, the higher her chances of being recognized. Before Tesa could carry out her original plan (to walk past) she watched the rodian’s neck suddenly seemed to slice open. Her breath caught. Great novas, he was so fast. One heartbeat, he was shoving away the rodian’s body. Two heartbeats, he was already bolting down the street. The crowd began to writhe, panicked by this sudden spurt of bloodshed. Time slowed, and Tesa was shoving people out of the way. As she took off after Graffion, a thought occurred to her: she could have used that time to sample his presence.
Stupid, Tesa, stupid.
She fumbled for Insanus, tapping the avian driod. “Insanus, I need to know the location of Graffion’s target building.” She was going to let Graffion slip through her fingers. If he turned around and noticed a charging woman, he would certainly know who she was. Tesa eased back, letting Graffion’s cloak drift from her vision. Insanus piped up from her pocket and Tesa replied an affirmative. Quickly, she found herself wading through the crowds as fast as possible. She needed to get to the building before Graffion did. An idea, a cruel one, unfolded in her mind. Without knowledge, a devilish smile was tainting her face.
---
Tesa carried herself purposefully across the lobby, ignoring other patrons except for a polite pardon. She headed for the elevators but then detoured and found a hallway. She wasn’t sure how much time she had. Was she ahead of Graffion? Perhaps. That was depending on how he got in. He had to be careful now, thanks to his interaction with the rodian. He took off immediately after the murder and Tesa was sure Graffion could have entered the way she just had. Through the front door.
However, that would have exposed his face more to the public. Already he was heavily identifiable with all the witnesses who had seen the rodian killed. It was pretty hard to mistake Graffion, too, as Insanus had made clear to Tesa earlier. His time here was now limited. And the more he could control his exposure to the rest of the public, the more chance he might have getting off planet without being found.
Smart man.
Tesa held her coat fondly, clutched to her, striding down the hallway. In the dimmer hall, she paused, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes. She expanded her awareness, sensing people, feeling them, waiting. She dropped it a few moments later and stepped away from the wall. She adopted an unsure step and a confused gaze as she listened to the low rumble approaching her from behind.
“Madam?” a heavily accented voice punctured the air as the rolling noise stopped. Tesa turned around, blinking her lost eyes at the newcomer, who had dark hair, dark eyes, and an olive complexion. Crows feet were crawling from the corner of his eyes and he acted seasoned to his job. He pushed before him a service cart stacked with cleaning supplies and towels. “Madam, can I help you with something?”
“Um… yeah, I seem to be lost. I’m supposed start work today and I don’t know where to go to get my uniform and what… not.”
The man laughed. “Are you the new gal that’s supposed to be joining our crew? We were told another week.”
“You were? Oh dear. Maybe I read something wrong. I don’t read well…” Tesa’s hand crept in front of her mouth and she glanced away as if ashamed by her mistake. What a stroke of luck that they’ve been waiting on a new employee.
“It’s not a problem, really. You see that door there? Just go in there. I’ll instruct someone to come give you a briefing of what we do here, our rules, and well, your actual job. What’s your name?”
“Feirb. Like “fern”, except with a “b” and… well, it doesn’t really sound like “fern”, does it?”
“Well, Feirb, like I said, through that door.”
“All right.”
As the man carried on down the hall and Tesa went to gain a uniform, she smirked. Feirb was certainly going to have a brief job.
---
Too long. That took too long. Tesa scowled as she tugged off the maid’s shirt. From under her cart, she withdrew her original top, slipped it on, and then yanked off the hideous, plain skirt and tossed it on top of the cart, revealing her trousers underneath. Should have been under three minutes. Damn that chatty girl. Tesa had endured the talkative worker for all of two minutes before asking to girl to leave so she can change. Then Tesa had stolen a cart, avoided the other workers, and left the service people’s back rooms.
The guards at the bottom of the service elevator had been keen on not letting her pass. But with a smile and little gesture with her fingers, Tesa convinced them otherwise. Tesa had barely yanked on her coat (that had a couple of new devices) and pulled out the clips in her hair, tossing it some, and letting it hang around her shoulders, when the elevator doors opened. She pushed the cart forward first, letting it glide down the small hall before her.
“Lady, I don’t think you belong here.”
“Oh?” Tesa questioned the first guard, tilting her head as she started down the hallway. “And you would know of your master’s plans?”
“Boss’s plans, and yes, we would.”
Tesa’s eyebrow arched high. “Is that so? I guess he didn’t tell you about this one.” Her hands knifed the air, centered, the backs of her hands near each other. She made an outward motion, and the heads of both guards veered into their adjacent walls. Clunks banged and then the bodies slumped into the ground in sloppy piles. Unconscious, perfect. Tesa swept her hand and the door slid open easily. Tesa didn’t break stride as she entered the room, looking around at the finery of the penthouse. She sniffed, commanding the door to slide close again. There was a pause as she determined whether to lock and bust the controls of the door. The door clunked and Tesa lifted her palm to the controls, sending a controlled burst of the Force to gut the controls.
“Oh Mister Gherring… You have a visitor…” She heard a thunk from further in. Tesa looked at her chrono. Not much time. She had to make this quick. Tesa reached into her coat, feeling for her new ties…
Merely minutes later, Tesa was fixing the bow on Gherring’s chest. She had ripped the thin sheet off the bed just to make it special. There was another tied bow on the man’s mouth, covering the gag. He was securely bound to the chair, split skin at his temples bleeding. His breathing was hyper due to this level of fear. Tesa stepped back, hands on her hips, marveling her handiwork. This was one man she wanted afraid of her. If she was lucky, Graffion would be confused and interrogate the man on how he had conveniently found himself tied to a chair.
“You,” Tesa directed attention to the woman who was covering herself with a blanket. Gherring himself had been caught with his pants down, literally (though the shirt Tesa had made him put on covered all necessities) when Tesa had invaded the bedroom. “Make yourself decent. My friend should be arriving shortly.” Tesa slipped into the woman’s mind for a brief moment, quickly, almost sloppily, combing out anything pertaining to her powers and her eye color. Now she was just an imposing, dark haired woman.
“Now...” Tesa drew a marker then, leaning close to Gherring. She snapped off the marker’s head and pressed it onto Gherring’s forehead. She quickly scribbled a note on his forehead. The cap snapped back on and Tesa smiled, robbing his mind of yellow eyes and Force powers. “I bid you adieu, Mister Gherring.” Tesa had already been moving swiftly to the balcony doors, exited, and shut the door behind her. She glanced over the railing and sighed, Looking back, she knew she could retreat back inside wasn’t an option. What a way to commit herself. Maybe she could hide herself instead...
---
“Present’s all yours to enjoy ~TY
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Apr 29, 2010 19:04:40 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Apr 29, 2010 19:04:40 GMT -5
Graffion stepped off of the elevator, a smirk on his face, and the sights of a pistol at the focus of his vision. He rushed off the elevator ready to fire the silenced slugger in quick succession, ready to plug the two unsuspecting guards before they could blink, one in the throat, one in the head for each. However, that wasn't a problem for him. After all, you don't need to shoot unconscious men.
He looked down at the two downed men and cocked his head, quickly looking around. Something was up. He drew his knife, holstering the pistol quickly. The door ahead was closed. He stepped over the body, still intent on getting this kill, now before whoever else was here did. He tried the door. No go. Panel was smashed from the inside, he guessed. "Well, now that's just annoying." He said to himself, quickly looking for another way in. Also a no go. "Oh lady luck, I know you hate me, but today must be your day of the month."
He looked down to the two guards, shrugging, and quickly reached down to check their pockets. He didn't find the keycard he was looking for. Of course. Graffion did notice the man's breath though. These two were still alive. That wasn't quite acceptable. "She's on nobody's side today." Graffion chuckled to himself, if these guard's had been lucky enough that the door was unlocked, they'd have lived. As it was, his knife plucked into their knifes, moving to the side so none of the blood got to him; he'd done it humanely as well, severing through for a quick, clean kill. Well, clean being a relative word. Poor fellas. He couldn't have them waking up on him, and there was no way he'd allow them to interrupt him. The job was the job.
Graffion used that same knife to pop off the panel of the door key on this side. He quickly went about trying to wire the thing. He sparked his fingers three times before he finally got it right. Click, whoosh, and the door was opened. He silently put the knife away and drew his gun. Whoever had gone in was obviously still here, otherwise the door would have been opened, unless they had found another way out. Given that this room was ten stories high and with only one door, he guessed they hadn't.
Slowly, he went from one room to another, gun taking point, ready to blast anything that moved. As it was, he didn't have any restrictions. His employer didn't care if civilians died. He didn't even care if Graffion died, so long as his target was dead and Graff didn't squawk. Details.
After several rooms, he finished his scan. He'd checked bathrooms, kitchens, living room, every room except for the master-bedroom. His heat vision was on, and so far he hadn't made a sound, checking through doors, walls, cabinets. Nothing, nobody. Then he heard footsteps in the hallway near the front entrance. He moved swiftly across the main room and then spun around the corner, already squeezing shots out of the slug pistol. The woman who'd tried to escape fell down, three bullets lodged into her spine.
Graffion looked down at her, and after a moment decided, "Concubine." She didn't look like a killer. She didn't have the body or muscle tone to knock out two guards. He turned and walked into the main room, his gun still ready. Through the door, he saw his target.
Tied to a chair, his jacket covering his otherwise bare lower body, and colorful strips of paper over the rest of him. A ribbon covering the mouth. Graffion almost stumbled forward, actually lowering his gun. It was a picture perfect moment. He'd had some pretty weird crap happen on missions before. This by far baked, iced, and consumed the cake. His features were a mixture of absolute confusion, his jaw actually hanging loose from his upper lip. "For me?" He asked himself, this whole thought ubsurd. Now what the HELL was going on?
He came into the room, turning, checking it, under-the bed, in the master bathroom. Finally, he stepped out into the balcony, ignoring the wind. He immediately looked up, making sure nothing was above, then stepped out. He leaned over the railing, checking to see if anybody was hanging off the ends. Nope, nothing. What, did they have a jet-pack. Graffion was about to leave when he realized something. He looked up, roof-top. He had a bit of extra time here. But not enough to check the roof. So instead he went back inside.
Fine, if somebody wanted to wrap up his target with a little bow and ribbon, all the easier for him. At least, he told himself that. For now, he just had to go. In honest, it pissed him off. He grabbed his target's hair roughly, ripping the gag right out of his mouth, and throwing him across the floor, the clothes falling off of his body. Naked, the man screamed, staring at Graffion.
"Guards, dead. Whore, dead." Graffion told him, "And not a single person can hear you. So please, shut up."
The grim reality hit him just a moment later, and the man silenced in terror. "Okay, now there's a chance you can live." Graffion lied, "Who did...This." he pointed at the ribbons.
"I don't-"
Graffion's fist grabbed the neck of the chair and in one insane fit of rage he lifted the chair upward and threw it across the floor, it bouncing and crashing across the floor. "DO NOT LIE OR GIVE ME BULL-SHIT!" Graffion roared, his voice so commanding and furious that he saw a trickle of fresh...Urination, across the floor from the man.
He pushed his hand across his blond hair, exposing his forehead for just a moment, then allowed it to fall in front of him, calmly he asked again, "Who did this?"
"She was a girl...Shorter than 6 feet, I think...dark hair..." He kept going on, but it really wasn't very helpful. "Thank you very much for the information." Graffion said.
"Do I get to-" His plea for survival was cut short as the bullet slammed into his skull.
"You don't even get to die clothed." With that, Graffion was already leaving.
He passed by the bodies of the guards, not really caring. They took the risk of death when they accepted the job of guard-duty. Because they couldn't do their job, they were both dead. They would have died either way. How it happened was only a detail. Graffion wasn't concerned with detail unless it mattered to the mission. No witnesses. Only bodies. It wasn't a policy he liked, but it was one this job required. So far, this whole mission had gone entirely sour, and that made him very much unhappy.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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May 17, 2010 22:10:27 GMT -5
Post by Squee on May 17, 2010 22:10:27 GMT -5
She could’ve done this better. She didn’t have to be standing on this mini-ledge with a several story drop just beyond the curve of her boots. Her body was adhered to the wall and she was pretending the tops of her fingers had suction cups. No, she could be inside, confronting Graffion, flaunting about how she had found him just as she had said she would. That wouldn’t be as fun, though. She didn’t want to go to Graffion, she wanted Graffion to come to her, hence why she had left the note at the hotel with vague details of a job and where to find her. The note didn’t have her name of course. Tesa could hardly wait to see his expression.
So she had chosen this path. The was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done. In the case that she would fall, Tesa could MAYBE alter the fall so it did not kill her, but she would sustain some massive injuries that would hinder her progress. Not just in her progress here on Empress Teta and messing with Graffion, but also in her learning curve at the Sith Temple. Master wouldn’t appreciate it one bit. Not that Tesa figured he’d care much.
Tesa sniffed. She had always wished for a more caring relationship between herself and her Master. None of that “if you’re strong, you’ll survive” crap. No. If the Sith were going to survive, Tesa felt Masters should look out for their apprentices. If the apprentices died off and then the Master died without an heir, then the Sith died off. Apprentices should be allowed to make a mistake once. If they didn’t learn from it, then they could die from that mistake, because they were too stupid enough to adjust to prevent that mistake when faced with it the second time.
The gust of wind startled Tesa and she gripped the ledge above her a little harder. This was so stupid. She would make sure never to do this again. Quite frankly, though, it was the only hiding place she could think of that a professional assassin would not think to check. Who checked outside and to the left of a window? No sane person would be hanging out there.
Obviously, this proved Tesa’s sanity.
Hiding inside the building was too much of a risk. Between Graffion’s ability to search and whatever that mechanical eye of his could do, Tesa would’ve surely been found. The balcony was too simple. Hanging off the side or beneath it, not that she had enough time to check the gripping beneath the balcony. She hadn’t been sure if Graffion would’ve taken the time to check the roof, either. Then again, why was she hanging out around here anyway? Why hadn’t she taken the balcony to the rooftop and jumped onto another building and dashed away?
Oh, wait… time factor, she reminded herself. Being out here with the wind threatening to push her away from the building was making her crazy.
Well, it seemed that jumping to another rooftop was her only means of getting out of here anyway. Graffion could, after he left, meander downstairs in the lobby, waiting to see if someone came out. That just wouldn’t do.
Leave already, by the Force… When the new presence entered the complex, Tesa had pounced upon it. Graffion’s presence was now her’s. She knew the shifts in his attitude, because his personal presence shifted with each emotion. He was surprised, confused, and wary. She tracked his movements, solidifying her claim to his unique signature. He moved onto the balcony, cautious, most likely looking. She knew when he had killed that girl too, because that presence had been extinguished.
Then, there had been that scream. Graffion confronting his target. She’d edged a little closer to the window, just to hear Graffion lie about the man’s chance to survive if said man would spill the beans on who had tied him up. Tesa smirked, daring to be as close to the thinly cracked window as she allowed. She didn’t hear a man’s reply and she smirked at the loud crashing noises followed by Graffion’s furious demand. My, my, he sure doesn’t like surprise presents, does he? Again, she couldn’t hear what the man said, but she did hear as Graffion thanked him followed by a thunk she took as Graffion finally killing his target. She hoped. There was a mumble and then there was nothing. Tesa reached out to sense Graffion, to find him leaving.
With care, Tesa reached out and slipped her fingers into the tiny slit of the open window. She pushed it open more, shuffling carefully on the ledge, and pushed it once more. Deliberately slow, Tesa lowered herself throw the window and battled the curtains out of the way.
“Oh… someone soiled his own carpets…” Tesa muttered, rather disgusted and she moved around the naked man’s body. She saw the dead woman, too. The deceased guards as well. Bit of overkill, Graffion. Weren’t you only sent after one man? A pity the guards had to die, when she had worked to knock them out for him. She finished her brief survey of the bodies and turned away from the elevator, walking straight onto the balcony.
“Uh… the exit is the other way!” The bird droid suddenly hovered out of her pocket, alarmed by her change of direction.
“Nope. It’s this way. Very good at being quiet, by the way. I applaud you.” Tesa reached out and plucked the droid from the air. “You can fly or you can ride. I would prefer it if you rode. Means I don’t have to check to see where you are.” She pocketed her droid again, climbing onto the railing and then lifting herself onto the roof of the penthouse. “Well now… let’s see… Eeny, meeny, miny, mo!” Tesa sprinted across the roof of the penthouse, aiming for the closest building. At the moment her foot curved over the roof’s edge, she deployed the Force to give strength to her leap. She cleared the gap and grabbed a railing on the next building, swinging momentarily before pulling herself up, grunting with the effort.
“Whatever we just did, let’s not do it again. It did not feel very stable.”
Tesa chuckled evilly, eyes seeking her way down. A story below was a way to enter the building. And the building would have stairs. From the stairs, to groundside, to outside, to back to her hotel room. She wasn’t too sure when Graffion would seek her out, but she wanted to be home when he did so.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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May 26, 2010 19:14:20 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on May 26, 2010 19:14:20 GMT -5
Graffion stepped through the hotel doors and the clerk smiled, all sunshine and happiness, "Welcome back!" She stated. Graffion smiled back to her, but it was a hollow smile. He was not too happy. He'd lingered about for a while, to see if whoever had gotten to his target first would be exiting. Either they were willing to risk being caught by the police, or they had found another way out. Either way, Graffion still didn't know who it was.
But he had a pretty good idea. The only people -stupid- enough to pull this on him was Strae. A new rage burned within him, one that he barely managed to keep out of his features. She had taken one step too far on the line of his tolerance, and now she was a dead woman.
"Oh, a woman came in and told me to hand this to you!" The clerk responded, Graffion furrowed his brow, and shifted his footing.
The woman bent over to pick something up and put a letter on the counter for him. He reached forward and picked it up, "Thank you." Graffion said, determining to read the letter when he got into his room, "Key please,"
"Here you are."
Graffion thanked her and quickly went to his room. Shutting the door behind him, he did a quick check to make sure everything was in order and that nobody was hiding somewhere in his room. All was clear. He sat down on the bed and unfolded the note.
Dear Graffion, Meet me at my hotel room two blocks east, at the Hotel Sardini. If you’re half the assassin you’re rumored to be, I’ll be in need of your services. I’ll be in room 42.
“Great.” Graffion muttered. This should surely be a ‘trap.’ He wasn’t sure if he should go, but he was fairly confident that this may be Upezzo. Whether it was them or not, it was definitely the person who’d gift wrapped his last mark. So, either way, he definitely planned on killing someone.
Graffion gathered the rest of his supplies. He could only carry so much on him, and he wouldn’t be able to come back afterwards. So whatever he left his room with today was all he could take. Good thing he hadn’t brought much.
He gathered his weapons, equipping himself with his Bowcaster, a short sword, two short daggers with curves at the ends, his hidden sleeve daggers, and the same pistol he’d fought with earlier today. Otherwise he left his extra clothes and equipment, taking only his Credits and his clothing.
And he was out of that building as swiftly as possible. There goes lunch. He thought miserably. If he lingered, that lady at the front would eventually see the media. And she would recognize his face. And then the local law enforcement would be banging on his doors…And then dropping to the floor one by one. Not a pleasant end to his ‘easy job, easy pay’ planetary stop.
He arrived at the hotel Sardini with haste, his cloak disguising him. Stepping in through the doors, he mentally went over what the paper had said. Room 42. After doing a quick double check to make sure that his weapons were hidden, he waited until the receptionist was distracted, then slipped into the halls. He took the stairs.
Room 42 was the sixteenth room on the second floor. He came out of the stair complex and headed down the hall, taking a quick precaution to make sure that no cameras and no people were watching. His EMP vision didn’t pick up any electric devices out of the ordinary, so he quickly deigned that it was, indeed, barren of cameras. A flash to heat vision, and he confirmed no bodies were hiding in the corners.
He spun around the corner with his wookie-bowcaster out and in his arms, racing down along the corridor, counting the rooms as he went. He stopped and turned to room 42’s door. Using his heat vision, he saw no immediate presence on the other side of the door. Without wasting any time he pulled out one knife and another object in his other hand.
Quickly prying the door panel, he drove a computer spike into the lock; the thing beeped a moment later and slid open.
Graffion rushed into the room, ready to shoot or slam his bowcaster’s two side into the first hostile presence he found. He didn’t find a hostile presence. His heat sensors discovered a body, calmly sitting down resting in a chair. And try as he might, he saw no other presences.
He turned his head vision off, scowled and went around that chair.
And stared right into an unmistakable pair of shocking amber eyes.
His scowl went up, and so did his eyebrow. A perplexed look took his face as the realization struck him and then he rocked back on his heels, absolutely shocked. He leaned forward, cocked his head, and asked, “Clutz? That you? Well, hell. Now I don’t know if I want to kill you or let you live.”
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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May 28, 2010 0:25:44 GMT -5
Post by Squee on May 28, 2010 0:25:44 GMT -5
“Is he coming tonight or tomorrow?” Insanus assaulted her as soon as she stepped from the bathroom. Tesa folded her robe and tied it together, looking to where the avian droid was on the stand. Couldn’t leave her even be after her shower. After the penthouse scene, she had felt so dirty that she simply couldn’t wait to return to her hotel room and bathe.
“Hm…” Tesa stood there, hands on her hips. “Well, the meeting is supposed to be two part. I’m hoping it stays that way. If he comes tonight, maybe I can get this thing disrupted. If not, he can come tomorrow and things can be taken care of—“
“Rodian dancers.”
“What?”
“Ultrastar Roamers. Juma juice. Mating wookiees. Brunettes ne-never – Zeltrons are purple.”
“You’re doing your broken search engine thing,” Tesa muttered to the air. Insanus suddenly started clicking in a circle, looking up and down, red eyes flickering on, off, on, off. He pecked at the wall and the ground, tweeting, twittering, rambling. Tesa simply watched, highly amused, waiting it out to see if it was a short or long term spasm. A few moments later, after she’d witnessed him try to take flight, fail, clunk on the stand and fall on the ground, she decided it was long term. He started quoting songs and holodramas and things of the like. “Mentally handicapped droid.”
She moved to the fridge, where she took out the strawberries she bought the day before. After palming her datapad free from her trousers, Tesa sat down in the lounging chair. Strawberries nestled in her lap, Tesa inserted the chip into her datapad and brought up the novel she was in the middle of reading. She found her page, opened the strawberry container, and then proceeded to enjoy a snack, ignoring the ramblings of Insanus.
Nearly an hour had passed when she heard the door’s opening hiss. She froze, strawberry in her mouth, staring at the datapad but not reading the words. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Insanus had shut up. Whoever was coming through her door wasn’t room service at the wrong room. Someone she had to deal with harshly? Tesa wreathed the Force around her and stretched out, finding the thing that was invading her room, and recognized the presence. Smiling around the strawberry, she bit through it, crossed her ankles, and sank back in the chair.
Graffion came around, weapon first. Tesa looked at him, half the strawberry in her mouth, sucked on it a couple of times and then ate the rest of it. She watched as his face changed and he reeled in surprise. Tesa’s lips lifted in a second long smile before she scowled at him. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“Clutz? That you? Well, hell. Now I don’t know if I want to kill you or let you live.”
“Clutz? Tsk, forget my name already? I am disappoint.” Tesa stood and set her snack and datapad on the chair. “Did you have the decency to CLOSE the door? No? How rude exactly are you? And I would hope you’d decide to let me live since I paid you so decently on Nar Shaddaa and kept you fed and sheltered for three days prior.” By then, Tesa had reached the door, and was leaning over the outside control panel. “Force damn you, Graffion. Do you know how to fix this? Because I’m really not in the mood to take a trip down to the lobby in my bathrobe or pay for another room because of something YOU broke!” There was an accusative snarl as Tesa took a moment to glower at him with her hands on her hips.
And then the dark glare dropped and Tesa’s eyebrows raised. She turned to the inner door panel, keyed first one thing, and then another. Using her body to shield her hand, Tesa pretended to try another set of keys, pressing only with her ring and pinky fingers while she twitched her index and middle. The Force overrode his lock spike and the door slid to a close. “There. That’ll do. Assuming we can get back out.” Tesa turned back around and regarded her intruder again. “Running from? Running to? Operation kill all? What’s your issue that you just INVADE the hotel room?”
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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May 29, 2010 16:17:03 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on May 29, 2010 16:17:03 GMT -5
Graffion’s expression of surprise had quickly faded into a scowl, ‘Maybe I should just kill her. the cynical thought coursed through his head, a reaction to the nagging. Of course, he knew he wouldn’t…As she continued on, assaulting with various forms of nag and insult, he grew uncomfortable, shifting in spot as though he were to blame for all the world’s problems.
And then it hit him, he didn’t owe her any explanations! She owed -him- the explanation. “You botched the job!” He hissed back at her, “If it weren’t for your presence, the whole operation would have gone so much smoother. If it weren’t for that damn kid and his pregnant fiancè, nobody except the mark would’ve had to die. Not that I really care whether those guards or the girl lived or died…It’s just terribly unprofessional.” He sneered.
“Although I do admit, I had no idea it was you.” He turned and, putting his weapon down on the ground, and took a seat, his frustration not gone but hidden suddenly. He sat with his left knee pointed to the left, his foot resting on his right leg. His body leaned to the left, his arm on the rest and left cheek in his palm. He took a breath, then looked at her, turning the questioning back on her, asking with a calm but serious tone, “How -stupid- do you have to be, to freak out an assassin of any reknown, and then set up a meeting with them without even using your name? By any and all rights, I -should- have killed you right there. ANY other assassin would have.” His expression seemed to turn grim for a moment, then broke out into a grin, “Lucky you that I’m not just any other assassin, Tesa.”
He didn’t understand her, or why he felt like actually answering any of her questions. He certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge everything she said. He didn’t even know why she was here, or what she wanted. She’d already admitted, sort of, that she’d been at the hotel for the mess of a job he’d just performed, and while that did frustrate him, he looked passed it. What really bugged him, was the question that he had not yet asked yet, what, Tesa, He mused in his head, do you want with me?
Whoever she was, it was much, much more than just a troublemaker on Nar Shadaa. She’d gone in with the resources, knowledge, and know how, to create a brilliant battle on the streets. Likely for her own amusement, she didn’t gain anything else from the situation. And now she was here, on Empress Teta.
Had he acquired some sort of strange galactic stalker? No, he was fairly certain that wasn’t it. She had other motives, he just appeared to be a tool to rouse these motives.
So what did she want on Empress Teta? It was no coincidence. She was here because he was here. So she may very well not want anything with the planet itself. Or she could have developed some devious plan because he was here. What game was she playing?
Or maybe, He thought, I only received word of an apparently easy job, because she had wanted me to…Graffion you fool. You’ve been lured all the way across the galaxy into some mad-woman’s trap. And yet still, you allow yourself to sink further into the trap.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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May 31, 2010 1:56:20 GMT -5
Post by Squee on May 31, 2010 1:56:20 GMT -5
Tesa felt she was on fire. Her air was warm, scalding hot as she breathed in it. Her lungs felt full of boiling water, and if possible, steam would be escaping her nose on exhale. She was seeing red, targeted and locked onto Graffion, the destruction button under her fingertip. Oh how she WANTED to press the button now, to release electrical pulses and send them into his body. Let him scream, feed her in his suffering, question him on who was the foolish one then! Her hand was feeling suddenly cramped and stings were in her palm, where her fingernails were biting flesh. Her aura had darkened, roiled in her anger, her very rage to this very assassin who had a sword shoved up his ass.
She grasped a thought: she was the one who had put that sword there. While Tesa found satisfaction in the thought, she was furious at his insult. From stupid, to his very cockiness and confidence that he could kill her so easily. It shook her core, rattled her teeth. Nails scratching on duracrete.
“Awww…” Tesa’s voice was anything but sweet. Deadpan. Cold. Snakelike. “Did someone have a bad day? Well you bloody deserved it!” In the time it took her to say those sentences, Tesa had stalked closer to Graffion. “After I tracked you down, FOUND your location, FIGURED out your general area, and followed your Force damn footsteps to find out WHERE the HELL you were going!”
The air around her writhed. A voice whispered for her to relent; submit to her inner fury. Lash out, strike, release. Erase the wrong done to her. Tesa was floating on top of it at the moment, bobbing, deciding whether to sink beneath the waves. Droplets of the water had splashed on her lips. Rage seemed so sweet, and it was only just beneath the surface.
“I have hired you. I have supported you. I HAVE paid.” She was leaned over him now, but inches from his face. He should look her in the eye. See her anger. The storm in the amber sea. “I deserve a little more credit. A little more RESPECT, you petty common assassin, that I should WASTE my time to seek some ungrateful wretch for his services! You think you know all? You’re pathetic and ignorant.”
Tesa, too much information.
I DON’T CARE!
Sink. Relish in glorified release. Heat the metal on his face, boil his skin. Blister it. Pop them. Salt them. Twist his internal organs. Disorientate his pain. Soothe him. Calm him. Then cause him more agony. Make. Him. SCREAM.
“If I am dead, you are dead. I protect you. Without me, you are as good as dead. You are still alive because you are of use to me.” Tesa underhandedly grasped the armrest, and, using a small bolster from the Force, she surged upward and toppled the chair with Graffion in it. “Don’t expire your use too soon, Graffion Maruhuey. Take whatever is biting your ass and crush its neck. Start thinking. Do we have an understanding?”
In that last piece, Tesa had found her dry land. She’d battled the waves of fury back, cast them off, found her land again. Rage’s waters still lapped at her shores, yes, but she could ignore it now. She’d given away too much. Too many hints. It was a mistake, but Tesa was confident she could manipulate it to her cause. Yes, yes… there was control. Icy cool control. It was as if she’d suddenly come into contact with an ice cube. The heated air around her chilled dramatically quick. Tesa’s hands folded over her face and her shoulders heaved as she breathed a sigh. Then she reached over and plucked up a strawberry. Briefly glancing at Graffion, Tesa began to pace with the strawberry in her mouth.
She was glad Graffion knew it was her. Quickly discovered, perhaps. Or maybe he had just said that thinking it was her. He only knew some of her capabilities. He knew she was capable of faking, lying, killing, and deceiving. It didn’t matter if he might have known then, but he definitely knew now, thanks to her. He could have that victory either way.
What bugged her was the entry into her room. If he knew it was her in the first place, why would he break into her hotel room? Didn’t he like her enough? Maybe not. She’d have to fix that. After this outburst, she was sure he found her unfavorable, but she wasn’t going to apologize. His barge in, his offensive sweep, meant he was looking for a hostile. Tesa hadn’t found her prank hostile, knew that she would have only been mildly amused and curious. Then again, that was her. She stored that revelation away.
Hostile. If he had known it was her, would he have believed she was a sudden opponent? Tesa didn’t think so. She stopped her pacing, looking at Graffion, sucking lightly on her strawberry before biting into it. After a second’s chew, she muttered, barely loud enough, “What are you afraid of, Graffion? What were you looking for?”
Spies? Did the spies link up with Graffion? She had only noticed them after she had been in contact with Graffion. She hadn’t experienced them yet here on Empress Teta, but Tesa wouldn’t be surprised if she turned around and there was a couple in her wake. Her gaze may have stayed on Graffion, but she wasn’t seeing him, sunken into her own thoughts. Maybe. It was possible. But what would spies want with Graffion? Was he a target or was he also a spy? If he was a spy, she’d know soon enough, and that would be the end of their relationship.
Her eyes came back to realization, and she blinked, swallowing the last of the strawberry. “Couch or floor, doesn’t matter to me. Snacks in the cupboard and fridge. I’ll call maintenance and tell them to fix the door. Say… I had to break into my own hotel room. Have to pay for the damage, maybe, earn a scolding for my so called stupidity and might even get kicked out. Great.” After the word “fridge”, what Tesa had said was more for herself, to keep her level headed as the tide came in, pulling the waves further from her shores.
She couldn’t afford another form of rage like that.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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May 31, 2010 23:59:25 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on May 31, 2010 23:59:25 GMT -5
As Tesa had turned around, in fact, before Tesa had turned around to face him, Graffion had felt it. He'd made a mistake. He could feel it; could sense that something was horribly, terribly wrong. part of it was the sudden demeanor change in Tesa, the other part was that survival instinct that had kept him alive for countless near-death situations. His stomach clenched, a shiver ran down his back, he adjusted his shoulder's due to the sudden discomfort. Something was about to happen. Something bad.
And then she had turned around, "Awwww..." She said, although her voice had immediately belied the usual sweetness of the words, "Did someone have a bad day? Uh-oh... "Well you bloody deserved it! After I tracked you down, FOUND your location, FIGURED out your general area, and followed your Force damn footsteps to find out WHERE the HELL you were going!" Yeah, she's furious... He thought.
She also revealed that she was, indeed, a stalker. She hadn't lured him, she'd followed him. Graffion looked upon the woman in a new light as she advanced toward him, she leaned in, invading his personal space. He looked into her eyes and he saw hatred. Death was in her eyes, pain, destruction. Graffion began to grasp the kind of fury this woman had. At what? At a comment? An observation What had she gone through? What kind of person was she that all of this, this great storm of fury, had come out at the slightest touch?
“I have hired you. I have supported you. I HAVE paid. “I deserve a little more credit. A little more RESPECT, you petty common assassin, that I should WASTE my time to seek some ungrateful wretch for his services! You think you know all? You’re pathetic and ignorant.”
Graffion's able eye twitched in irritation. Perhaps it was time to put an end to this. She thought she was doing him a credit with all of this; in truth she was doing nothing he couldn't do himself. What made -her- so significant that she could dish out such insults. He felt his right hand clench, Now, now, Graffion, don't do this. He told himself, unclenching.
“If I am dead, you are dead. I protect you. Without me, you are as good as dead. You are still alive because you are of use to me.” Before he could even scowl, before he could entertain his own sudden anger, her hand grasp the armrest.
And then the whole chair was toppling backwards. She'd lifted the weight of the chair and his own weight, seemingly effortlessly. And now he had thunked across the ground, spilled out of the chair and rolled across the ground. He quickly scrambled back up, forgetting the bruises, and looked up at Tesa, crouched, but not in a ready-to-attack manner. He seemed hesitant for a moment, almost helpless, unsure what to do, unwilling to go on the offensive. Confused.
He certainly was no sudden fan of this Tesa Yarum, but he didn't hate her. She had indeed helped him, paid him, given him a means to an end.
“Don’t expire your use too soon, Graffion Maruhuey. Take whatever is biting your ass and crush its neck. Start thinking. Do we have an understanding?”
He didn't answer. He didn't know what he'd say. Slowly, however, Tesa appeared to calm down. She breathed, she stopped seething. She became...Pseudo normal.
“What are you afraid of, Graffion? What were you looking for?” He heard her whisper. It wasn't anything clear, but it was loud enough for his keen ears to pick up.
“Couch or floor, doesn’t matter to me. Snacks in the cupboard and fridge. I’ll call maintenance and tell them to fix the door. Say… I had to break into my own hotel room. Have to pay for the damage, maybe, earn a scolding for my so called stupidity and might even get kicked out. Great.”
Obviously, Tesa had not liked being called stupid. Obviously, she had not liked his entrance. Obviously, she had not thought that he would take her 'gift' that way.
Slowly, Graffion rose from his spot in the room. He stood there, face passionless, calculating. He stared at Tesa. Just stared for a while. She was frustrating. She was amusing. She was unique. She had a short fuse. These were things he knew about her. He didn't know where she'd been, what she'd done, or who she was. He had no reason to trust her, despite what she'd said, and yet of all things, he felt -guilty- for what he'd done.
A low voice in the back of his head told him he was in over his head, but the voice he let out loud said something entirely different, "Don't." He said, "I'll take care of it. All of it. The damage, the people, everything. I know a guy who knows a guy who can fix that up no problem before maintenance ever even knows."
He was lying. He did know a guy who knew a guy, but he didn't expect it to go down simple, he'd probably have to do some sort of thing or another, "And..." He stopped for a moment, unsure about what he was about to say next. The words I'm sorry, came to mind. However, he didn't seem able to bring those words to light. Not today, not for her. Words he'd never really said before, at least not for an actual reason. Instead, he simply said, "I'll be sure to knock next time."
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 10, 2010 18:55:35 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Jul 10, 2010 18:55:35 GMT -5
"Don't."
She halted utterly with her face turned toward Graffion. It was slightly tilted with her lips barely parted. Those lips began to mouth “what?” as he continued to talk.
"I'll take care of it. All of it. The damage, the people, everything. I know a guy who knows a guy who can fix that up no problem before maintenance ever even knows."
She stared. She’d consciously closed the gap between her lips, but she stared at Graffion. Obviously, she was surprised by the offer. Why? Her brow furrowed with confusion. Why? Why would he offer to fix something of hers after her outburst? Tesa’s head turned with narrowed eyes, adopting the look of someone suspecting treachery. There was no immediate reason to accept responsibility.
“And... I’ll be sure to knock next time.”
After a couple moments’ study, Tesa shrugged. “Okay.” She crossed to the overturned chair and righted it. “Fine. If you can do that, do it. Just don’t get yourself killed.” Her eyes drilled Graffion with another stare as her mind searched her thoughts and bent to rational logic. What would make Graffion feel he had to fix the door? “And knocking…” Tesa paused and blinked a couple of times. The words stuck in her throat, hard to voice, and they were difficult to see her saying them. “Well…” She turned into the room. “That might be best.”
Thank you, she wanted to say. Was she stuck in another dream? Tesa felt outside her body, watching herself go about her room, listening to what she said. Her thoughts, assumptions, conclusions were detached and separate from her physical body and her body’s actions. Why do I want to be nice all of a sudden?
“Insanus, my friend, are you done having a spastic attack or do I have to find a droid asylum?” Silence. “Sane?” More silence. “Confounded, retarded, broken BIRD. Where the frack did you go?” Crouching down and ducking her head, she realized he wasn’t under the bed or under any stands. The droid wasn’t on top of any surfaces. Her gaze darted everywhere as she walked through the complex. “Come out!”
“PEEK-A-BOO!” Insanus squawked as she turned the corner into the small kitchen space. Tesa squealed stumbling out of the one man area, her arms wheeling backward. “And I thought you to be alert at all times! Couldn’t you sense me just around the corner? What’s the matter? Ability broke? Or are you too distracted by the silly boy? What kind of d--?”
“Silence!” Tesa hissed, lurching forward and grabbing for Sane. The droid was floating in the air, and swerved under her outstretched hands once before she plucked him from the air. As quickly as possible, Tesa toggled his switch to off. Heavily, she sighed as her hands cradled the downed technology. Act like nothing’s unusual. Stupid droid. Rambling off too much. Couldn’t you have gone on about mating wookiees instead of my abilities? “Broken thing. He was being utterly random earlier. Does from time to time. Then he’s just so confused afterward. Have to reprogram him after each bout, like a viral computer.” She’d walked over to the bed and rested Insanus at the foot of it.
Her words were calm, but her pulse raced. She’d panicked when Sane had chirped out something about her abilities. She wouldn’t let some piece of technology foil her plans before they were in motion. Tesa lifted her face to Graffion. Not yet. You can’t know yet. Not until you’re loyal to me. “Would you rather go talk to your friend about the door first or learn about the job for tomorrow night? I’m sure you can escape out the window.” She smiled lightly as she dropped the hint of how she avoided him at the penthouse.
Why would you go bother someone about a petty apartment door? What are you feeling? You’re an assassin. Assassins should be detached from their emotions. The good ones anyway. And you’re a good assassin.
And why did I become so nice with you? The thought frustrated her. Her kind thoughts were attachments to her past. Why wouldn’t the past leave her alone?
“Or would you like to discuss what you were searching for when you stormed in? You’re not being hunted, I hope.” That was the other thing that was nagging her. Who had Graffion expected to be here?
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jul 10, 2010 22:22:02 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jul 10, 2010 22:22:02 GMT -5
There it was, that Bird said something very quirky, something that didn't sit well within Graffion's chest at all. He said, 'sense' and he didn't like that. Along with the word, 'ability.' There was always the chance that she just had good sensory perceptions and that is what the bird was speaking about. Tesa snapped at the bird, not unlike how she'd snapped at him ( but on a minor scale ), snatching Insanus up and silencing him. Within a few seconds she was rambling on about what the bird was talking about, how it was crazy, defunctional.
And his fears were almost confirmed, but he couldn't be sure yet. He really hoped he wasn't. His thoughts came on, Wrong move Tesa. You're lying to me. You didn't have an immediate response so you decided to go into acting mode, you decided to shrug it off and ramble. I haven't seen you speak in an uncalculated manner so far, which means you don't normally ramble to strangers; maybe in private, but when you talk to me, unless your acting or mad, every word is calculated. And you m'am, are acting. He considered voicing these thoughts, confronting her right here.
His fear was that she was a force user. That would be a bad thing. He didn't have enough proof yet, though, and he highly doubted she was truly a force user. Those with the force grow addicted to it. They have to use it, they have to improve with it. Tesa wouldn't have been able to resist using her force powers, and he'd seen nothing of her use it. When she had been tracking him earlier ( he was sure it was her ) she had kept a line of sight. A force user would have simply stayed farther away and followed the presence, right?
He hoped so. Still, there was the mysterious aura that she seemed to exume, and the strange show of strength when she'd shoved his chair down with him in it. Not a simple feat.
His thoughts faded instantly when she asked if he was being followed. Revealing the knowledge of a spy network to an unknown was not something he had on his agenda. If Strae ever found out she'd have him killed for certain. He hesitated for a moment. Too quick and she would know he was trying to change the subject, perhaps he should just tell her the truth on how he felt, no, that wouldn't do, tell a half lie, "Many people would like to see me killed. There are any number of crime lords who could have put a hit on me. Of course, most are discoureged, but it still happens. When this does happen, an assassin comes after me. There are quite a few twists out there who would set up a sick game with me, possibly leave a present and set a trap. Of course, I thought this could be such a case. When this such thing happens I find the assassin, capture them, find out who put the hit on me, find out who -really- put the hit on me, because the first one is usually a fake, then kill the crime-lord, viola, no more looking behind my back for assassins...At least for a few months. It's a process."
With that, he headed toward the back window, "And I'll get that door taken care of first." With that, he exited via window. Turning left and right and looking down, he found a very convenient pipe. It probably moved hot-water up to each of the rooms. He didn't know what exterior building pipes were for, he just knew they were there. That's all he -needed- to know.
Quickly and lithely, his body swung out and gripped it, his arms clamping it tightly and his body wrapped around. He let his sleeves slip over his palms and loosened his grip, sliding down. He felt the rub-burn through the cloth, but it was significantly damaged. He came to a stop a few feet from the ground, then got off of the pipe, landing softly. He landed in an alley-way.
~*~
Graffion didn't take his hood off until he entered the safety of the workshop. It was a repair shop for speeders and racer pods of various kinds. His friend, of course, also, occaisionally, dealt in a few illegal activities. Graffion walked toward the back of the shop, "Hey, Wei Gumb, come here."
A Sullustan came in from the back of the shop, "Welcome to my shop!" He greeted, looking over. Graffion smiled.
Wei Gumb turned around and ran. He barely mae it through the doorway in the back before Graffion was grabbing his shoulders and slamming him into a wall, breaking the tile, "Why the hell are you running away?" he asked, "Did you do something you weren't suppose to?"
Wei Gumb swallowed hard, "No, no, of course not! You know me, good ol' Wei Gumb'd never sell you out." He plead.
"I didn't ask if you sold me out." Graffion snarled, "Funny how that was the first thing you mentioned. Who?"
Wei Gumb seemed not to move, he couldn't breath. His terror was complete, it wasn't working to Graffion's benefit, "The clearer your head stays, the faster you answer, the higher your chances of survival." He seethed.
This only seemed to grip Wei with even greater fear, he locked up. Graffion looked to his left to see a hydrospanner. He reached for it, picking it up and turning it on, watching as the sparks came out the other end. Graffion leaned forward, putting his mechanical half of his face close to Wei Gumb, "Have you ever lost an eye, Mr. Gumb? It's the single most excruciating feeling in the universe, I'm willing to bet."
"OKAY!" He shouted, "The police came by, asking questions...They know it's you, Graffion. I couldn't lie to them."
"How long ago?"
"Five minutes."
"Graffion."
"WHAT?!" He snarled, rage in his face.
"They came in asking if it was you. I only confirmed. Someone else tipped them off, and I don't know who."
Thougths of death came to him. He should kill Wei Gumb. No, he shouldn't. The police would return. Five minutes ago. Damn, they may be back soon. Someone had told them who he was. It must have been someone who'd seen him earlier, nobody else knew he was here. Unless Tesa was up to some silly game again, then...No...Of course not.
"Who are you afraid of Graffion?" He asked.
"What?" Wei Gumb asked.
Graffion looked up at Gumb and furrowed his brow, then realized he'd asked that allowed, "Shut up, I'm contemplating your life here." Wei Gumb whimpered but complied. It wasn't Tesa. She had asked who was following him. She had inadvertantly asked about Upezzo Keeza. Upezzo Keeza had asked about her. Two and two clicked together. She knew about them already. Somehow, she knew. More than that, she wouldn't have ratted him out knowing the police would approach him, unless she herself was working for some government, trying to bring in a famous criminal. No, that wasn't it. So she herself was as she seemed, as far as he could tell. She was innocent.
Which meant someone had recognized him in the crowd where he'd murdered the-
NO! It was the kid at the hotel. The kid at the hotel must have ratted him out, and given a detailed description. Afterall, he'd gotten a very good view of Graffion.
Graffion released Wei Gumb, then flexed his fists a few times, "I'll need to borrow your hydrospanner." He said, taking the hydropsanner, "I broke a door panel that needs fixing."
"You'll need more than a hydrospanner for that." Wei Gumb said, "I have a multi-tool in that drawer to your left."
Graffion looked to his left, opening a drawer. Inside was a strange hydrospanner; one side, there were various ends that functioned differently, a multi-tool. ( Like a Swiss Knife, I guess. )
"Thanks. Oh, and when the police come back, you ask for a warrent, and stall as long as you can. Because if they catch me..." he flared the hydrospanner, "They won't have me for very long, and I'll find you, and then we'll have an incredibly uncommon experience quite in common." He tapped his mechanical eye again, "Good day Wei Gumb, and uh, remember what I told you."
~*~
He'd taken extra care to avoid any officers, the journey back to Tesa's had taken thirty minutes extra. Graffion found himself crawling up the top of the pipe, finding the window still opened ( thankfully ), and crawled into the apartment. He'd decided that he would act as though nothing were wrong. The police had no way of tracking him down to Tesa's. The best detective should take about 2-3 days. Another process Graffion had found out. Evidence could be processed, people could be questioned, but it took time. Time they didn't have.
"Well, my friend couldn't come." Graffion replied, "But, I know a thing or two about how to fix things." He revealed the multitool with a grin, "Come, tell me about the job as I work."
He knew the basics of how to repair things, he'd helped his father fix the front door four times when he was a kid, though that was long ago and his memory was more focused on his father's yelling and sudden fits than the actual fixing, but he figured he could do it. He might burn his fingers a few times, possibly electrocute himself...But he'd get the job done and nobody would be any worse off for it.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 13, 2010 1:35:46 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Jul 13, 2010 1:35:46 GMT -5
I don’t believe you, Kitty. Tesa sat on her bed with her hands folded in her lap. She was tuned in to what Graffion was saying, truly interested in what he had to say, but searched for something in his eyes, his actions, or his words that gave clues he was lying. The problem was he only had one eye and he was a collective man. Most of the time. Unless you’re paranoid. Graffion struck Tesa as a cautious man, not a paranoid one.
No one quite glanced behind him as smoothly as Graffion. To any other person, his glances would be simply what they appeared to be: casual. She’d noticed them. He did it too frequently, too coolly, too precisely. He’d known she’d been behind him. Perhaps not her personally, but known someone was following him. To anyone, this would look paranoid, but Graffion never acted excited. He never twitched or flinched. And the man was far too confident with himself and his capabilities. Cautious, aware, not paranoid. He was used to being followed.
But by whom?
Your secrets will one day be mine. Tesa nodded once without talking as Graffion took leave to track down his friend. Her ankles were hooked over each other, her arms were crossed, and her body leaned back a bit. If Graffion was watching for an assassin every few months, Tesa doubted he would be as cool. Unless he was so far arrogant he was stupid enough to believe that nobody could take him down.
A possibility. Could he be telling the truth? She was thinking too much in the abstract. Where were her facts? They’d bring her back to earth long enough for her to analyze their space. Then she’ll put it together later, when she can read the disturbances in space with clarity.
Tesa fell back on the bed and placed her hands over her face. She thought too much period. Maybe she should use this break from Graffion to rest her mind. Think about a few more minor things. Think about how to present tomorrow’s task to Graffion. The spies back on Nar Shadda could be left to rest. In her mind, the mystery file was pushed to the corner of the desk and she picked up the To-Be Homicide file. Something winked, catching her mind’s eye, and when she reached over, she laid fingers on her personal file. Flipping to the first page, she had a page of what others saw of her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid droid! Tesa’s eyes snapped open and she growled. Insanus had said too much! The air around Graffion had changed when Sane had made fun of her. She’d sensed it not in his demeanor, but also in the force. He was alerted. Tesa now walked on the ledge’s corner, with her failure just beyond the outside curve of her foot. At the moment, her balance was off. “Sane, I swear to any gods of the galaxy that if you trash my plans, I will turn you into scrap metal.” Of course, just after her threat, she recalled Sane was switched off. Tesa gritted her teeth, shifting her body to lie completely on the bed, her head near the foot of the bed where the metal bird lay.
“Think you’re so grand and smart, and then you lose your head. I need to get you fixed.” Tesa leaned on her elbows, deciding whether or not to turn Sane on. With a flip of his switch, she’d decided, and watched as Insanus came back to life, red eyes lighting like a demon raising from hell.
“I dare say, when did I become halfway down on my energy?”
“During your indoor stay in the dark labyrinth of your insanity,” Tesa muttered, folding her arms and resting her chin on it. “Are you feeling better? I hope you are, because you’re about to get a scolding for pissing me off.”
“Oh dear.”
---
Soft scuttles awoke her. Tesa propped herself on an elbow as she opened gluey eyes. Raising a palm to rub at her eye, she sighed heavily, followed by tiredly blinking.
“Hey, HEY! Loaf! You almost squashed my tail end! That fake eye of yours doesn’t really help unless your hair is out of your face! You might as well be as blind as a bat!”
Tesa let a smirk grace her as she lay back on the bed with both palms digging at her eyes. Sane had taken to sitting by the window, soaking up the sunshine to replenish his energy. The fact that the useless droid was chewing out Graffion was amusing to her tired brain.
Her clothes has changed since he’d left - exchanging the bathrobe for an outfit that boasted her reluctance to be anywhere but her apartment room. Slouch clothing, as some people would call it. The attitude Tesa currently displayed matched that of her clothing as she all but fell off the bed, meaning to get up. “Well, a very good welcome back to you.” That said, she fetched cups of water, handing one off to Graffion. “The outside panel first. Hold on. I’ll see if I can get it open.”
Her heart pounded suddenly, a dull pound on the slowness of her awaking mind. Should she attempt to use the Force now? Graffion’s eye was on her. No. She wouldn’t. She overstepped the boundary using the Force in Graffion’s presence the first time. Best to not use it around him. Unless necessary. The door wasn’t worth losing the assassin over.
Tesa spent time entering a code, and then another, but no avail. She waved her hand and slapped it on her leg. “Yep. Have fun.” She stepped away from the door as Graffion came forth. Crossing one foot over the other, Tesa lowered herself to the ground. She said nothing at first, watching Graffion over the rim of her cup as he began his work. “I’m going to laugh if you fry yourself.
“Anyway, the job. Five people. Well, five significant people. Hopefully just those people because I hope not to make such a big scene. Anyway, five people are having a meeting here, within the business room of the large company building. Each of them needs to be killed. Their names…” Tesa blinked, suddenly blank. “Well, names don’t matter. You’ll just need to see their faces. And I’ll show you my holograms and blueprints and what not when you’re done tinkerin’.
“This is supposed to be a political business exchange. They’re expecting a sixth person. Me.” Tesa smirked. “So, don’t shoot me. Shoot the other five, and quite possibly their several bodyguards. Initially, I was going to say you’re my bodyguard, but you’ve made your face a little too well known around here. You’ll have to find your own way in, because I’m not going to construct another plan for you. Unless you want to go through the strains of looking like someone else. I’m not sure you’d like my demands, though.
“I hope this whole thing to be quick. If you get out in proper time, I can start screaming my head off and be escorted out as a frightened businesswoman who has no idea what’s going on. I’ll be escorted to my ship. Either you meet me there or I can retrieve you, and I’ll take you off planet to wherever you want to go. I’m sure you’d like to get off since you have the law tracking you. It won’t cost you anything either.”
The door suddenly slid open. “Don’t let anyone in the hallway see you. We can go over details when you’re done. I have faces, I have names, I even have the faces and false names of people willing to help us from inside, and blueprints. No one inside is allowed a weapon but security and personal bodyguards of the visitors, like I am going to be. Hence, the roll of bodyguard.”
Something sparked, but Tesa didn’t pay it much mind. “That’s it in a nutshell, and the meeting is late tomorrow afternoon. We have time. You want more water?”
((Wrote it when I was sleepy. Perfect. xP))
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jul 14, 2010 13:34:23 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jul 14, 2010 13:34:23 GMT -5
"Of course," Graffion laughed, "No good deed goes unpunished." The last part was a low mutter, in reference for his decision to help the kid out at the hotel, "More water would be very nice," He was debating something. He could create a disguise that would change his general appearance, but the missing eye was a huge tip-off. He didn't see any way to go along with her initial plans.
In his contemplations, he forgot to pay attention, and reached for the wrong wire. There was a slight spark of blue and a burning sensation on his fingers, "Ah!" he winced reflexively, waving his singed finger. A second later there was a slight beep and the door opened up. Graffion's sour disposition rapidly changed into a very happy, self-satisfied smirk. He rose putting the wiring back into the door and closing up the inner panel, tightening the screws with his multi-tool.
He took his tool and went into the outer hall, examining the outer panel. The computer spike hadn't done it in too badly. The function of a spike is that it overloads a terminal or system with useless information, trivial coding mostly, and makes the computer unable to perform other functions, for example, a locking function. Graffion knew that much, it's good to know a few of the details of your equipment.
He removed the computer spike and began to unscrew the panel. Soon, he was looking at the inner-working's of the door. Nothing was broken, exactly, but the wires would have to be disconnected and reconnected, a technical reboot of the locking mechanisms systems. He put his tool down and wiggled his fingers to make sure blood-flow was nice and all fingers were dexterous.
Reaching in, he found all of the wires, one by one, disconnecting reconnecting them. When this was done, he grabbed the mulit-tool and craned his head, finding an input slot. He put plugged one end of the multi-tool in, and if his theory was correct...there was a slight jarring in his hand from an electrical current running up his multi-tool. He yanked the tool backward, dropping it on the ground.
Apparently, his theory was only half-way correct. You were supposed to plug into the input to reboot the system -before- you reconnected. It could be done either way, but without the proper tool you get...shocked. Graffion snickered at himself, then replaced the panels, tightening the screws. He reached forward and pressed the button. The door slid to a close.
He pressed it again, and it didn't open. That was a good thing, it wasn't suppose to open from the outside without a key. He reached forward and rang the buzzer, it should be able to open both ways now. Now about another problem.
He assumed that Tesa had already met with some of the Upezzo spies. In that case, there would be no point in witholding such information, he should tell her if she was going to be tailing him.
Tesa opened the door, and he followed her inside, closing it. A slight pang of pride came to him as it closed properly. He smirked and followed. Sitting down, he accepted the water, "Thank you, now, what were those images you wanted to show me?"
Tesa took datapad and handed it to Graffion, "Button on the bottom slides through images."
He nodded, studying the features of his five targets carefully. Four men and one woman. He looked at the men, each one was some business man of some kind, all spiffy, all with body-guards. None of them had any combat relations of any kind, easy targets. Body-buards were usually two-bit. The third one, the woman, set him on edge, though.
"I fear I must confess," Graffion said, "That earlier, when asked about who was tailing me, I lied to you. You see, it's a very sensitive matter that might get me killed. But, then, I have a feeling that you've already met some of the spies that have come after me."
He laughed, "They are Upezzo Keeza. It's some silly Jawa language meaning, 'Market Weapon.' I didn't want to tell you about it, because, well, then both of our lives would be endangered. You don't go telling people about a spy-network just willy nilly, they get awfully offended. And fighting them would be like going up against fifty mini-versions of me. To be honest, if the Jedi Grandmaster were tailed by these people, I just might put my money on them. They've got deep pockets and are willing to go the distance, as well as great skills. I don't know exactly what they want with me, but their leader, Strae Arhst, seems to take some sort of liking to me. My suspicions are that it has something to do with my search for my previous master, which of course, I made many people mad in the process. She didn't try to take a hit on me though, so I guess I'm, to this point, more profitable alive than dead. I've hired them as well, those two men that helped me on Nar Shaddaa, they were Upezzo. They were also at the restaurant where we ate, and met up with me soon after you left. They were curious about you, and not too happy, but I didn't think i'd be running into you ever again, so you'd be under no danger, and I wouldn't have to tell you."
He grabbed the data-pad, "They've been stalking me very closely lately. But that's not the worse part. Take a look at the woman in these pictures. She looks a lot less...Flamboyant than usual...But, that's Strae Arhst. She's going to be sitting in the meeting, and if you came into contact with her spies already, she's manipulated things so she could be there...to get a good view of you. And it is not a good thing to be on the Upezzo Keeza radar. Nothing scares that woman except, well, maybe a jedi." He laughed, "But like I said, I'd still place my bets on her. And I can try, but I can't promise you that I could kill her. Knowing her she'd be the first one out of the room."
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 14, 2010 18:50:44 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Jul 14, 2010 18:50:44 GMT -5
“You’re not the galaxy’s most fantastic liar, but it was a pretty good try,” she commented, sitting back down on the floor with her back pressed to the wall. She took a drink of her water as she stretched her legs before her. Rather quick confession, Graffion. That could be the difference between you and me.
Tesa sat there with her cradled cup of water as Graffion told her about this Upezzo Keezo. About how this Strae Arhst was kind of attached to Graffion someway, through his master, he mused. His master… she’d have to question about this master another time. That they had been in the diner, watching them, still tailing him. It was only after that engagement that Tesa noticed the spies. Except, they’d be trailing him a long while now, which probably meant she’d been watched since she’d first encountered him. Perfect. Graffion also stated something about endangering her, which earned him a peculiar look. Maybe he had a sense of chivalry after all.
He leaned forward to hand her back the datapad, telling her to look at the single woman. As she was told that was Strae and the likely reason she was there, Tesa looked up at Graffion with genuine surprise. After what she’d been told about this Strae person, Tesa felt a thread of fear to enter her heart. She looked down at the picture, studying the woman’s face. No, just a woman. Just another person in the galaxy, killable like anyone else, and as long as the woman was sentient, there was nothing to fear.
Tesa narrowed her eyes at the picture, making herself neutral toward this woman’s face, and then switched off the datapad. She set it to the side, drew up her legs, and locked her arms around them. Eyes on Graffion, Tesa drew a breath, held it, and then released it. “Aren’t you full of surprises? I guess those punks I sent back to her delivered their messages like good boys. Yes, I’ve already encountered them. Back on Nar Shaddaa. Stopped their meddling with my affairs for a little bit, it seems.
“I caught them. Both of them. Sent them hurrying back to Strae, with the threat anyone else I caught following would be killed. I don’t take kindly to being followed, you can say. My business likes to keep… private.” She stood with her empty cup and walked by, getting more water. She always got a little thirsty after a nap. “Well… she ain’t following. At least she heeded some of my warning.
“And if you don’t manage to kill her, you get paid for four hits, not five, just so you know. I pay by head this time around. But, if she tries to slip through our fingers, I aim to put a stop to it. They may be good spies, but they’re good spies I recognized. And my employer wouldn’t like it too much if I dragged along a gaggle of spies. I suppose I’ll make my threat good and clear,” Tesa drank, the last sentence more of a spoken muse. “And if I have to, kill so they know I’m some walk-on-by pushover who doesn’t make good on her word.”
She paused by a mirror on the wall and looked in it. Tesa ran her hand through her hair, gave herself a hopeless look in the mirror and then glanced over at Graffion. “She’s killable like everyone else, I assume. But, then again, assuming makes an ass out of you and me.”
---
“What do you mean, you have no use for me?” Insanus questioned, indignant.
“Exactly that. No use for you. You’re not useful. So, shut down, have a nice nap, I’ll be back within two hours, I bet.”
“I’m a Familiar! I’m supposed to be beside you at all times! I must be helpful somehow!”
“You’ll only be a hinder this time, Sane. My dress hides my lightsaber perfectly, should I need it, and I’m always armed with the Force.”
“Which you won’t use because you’re too cautious around Mister Maruhuey. Please mistress, let me go with you!”
“Force damn! It’s like arguing with a child! What will you do it things go wrong, Sane? Yell ‘BANG BANG’?”
“… That’s a thought.”
Tesa glared at the droid. “No. Final. You’re of no use this time. Not for recording, because I’m not even here to ensure that the business swings the Sith way. I’m here to kill people. Or… here to distract people long enough for Graffion to kill people and to make sure he gets a nice little job so he likes me a little more. That’s not the point though. If I get in a pickle, I’ll just have to use the force because there’s no way I’m dying today. I also hope that Strae has killed the fifth fool that she’s in the place of.”
“I don’t like this Strae person.”
Tesa finished curling her hair and glanced at Insanus in the mirror she faced. “I think that’s a little cold considering you haven’t met her.”
“Don’t have to. Just the way Mister Maruhuey put her. She’s the leader of a spy organization, Mistress. That doesn’t seem like some easy feat.”
“No, I suppose not. I’ll have to be careful.” She sighed. “This Strae person is going to be a pain in my neck. I’ll have to search my ship for bugs and trackers and make sure to duplicate my computers to make sure she doesn’t have them bugged. If Graffion’s giving them credit of being really good, I’m going to take his word for it. Why don’t you do that while I’m gone?”
“Search for bugs?”
“Yes. How long until I’m supposed to land?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Perfect.” Tesa straightened her sleeve and picked up her communicator, triggering the connection to the one Graffion would have. “How’s it going, Graffion? After this, I’m not talking anymore because I’ll be inside.”
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jul 14, 2010 20:16:49 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jul 14, 2010 20:16:49 GMT -5
There were a hundred different obsticals and difficulties in Graffion's newest job. It required careful thinking, brilliant strategy, and flawless execution. One had to be intimately aware of the situation, the entrances, exits, and persona's attending the setting of the kill. Graffion's research showed that his four bogey's each had at least one, trusted security guard. Minimal risk suggested fast, quiet shooting.
The first challenge had been entering. Graffion had come completed this task as well. Challenge two would be finding an intricate but accessible hiding place that he would not be found, yet would be easy to launch his assault from. The third challenge would be actually performing the task without getting killed. The final challenge was to get out.
There would be no mercy on this job. He could afford none. Strae was bringing her crack crew, a new girl by the name of Ven Alstra and her most trusted body-guard, a Kaleesh who was more than profficient in melee combat. Graffion knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn't fight that Kaleesh head to head, so he'd have to shoot that thing first and then disable the rest of the body-guards. Stealth was his greatest asset, following close behind surprise and speed. Once the third shot was taken, his opponents would be well aware of his presence. From there, his plan was to close range and get personal. His escape would be simple, up into the air-conditioning vents, where he would make to the roof-top.
The roof-tops were a very convenient point of escape, but it wasn't that simple. He anticipated that Strae would somehow get off some sort of distress signal, which meant that he'd be hiding away from Upezzo. Safest place for him was to not actually escape, but stow-away on the rooftop itself until further notice. From there, he could wait until after hours, until the police investigators leave, and staff is minimal. Upezzo wouldn't think him silly enough to stay at the scene of the crime.
Graffion had planned intricately, deeply, had prepared everything, had the total amount of surprise. Upezzo hadn't been able to track him here yet, that was for certain, and while they would be aware of his presence on the planet because of the reports, he figured they would have no idea he was still working for her. Correlation, sure, but not here, not now, not like this. It wasn't his style. Everything was in order, Graffion had spent so many hours planning so carefully his entrance, his kill, and his escape. There were just two questions to be answered.
1. Did he really want to -kill- Strae Arhst? Yes. If she died, there would be coups within the spy organization. Fanatical loyalty kept them on her side, but with her death, there could be no loyalty. Graffion had one chance at this. He may never have the upper-hand again.
Which left him with one final question:
2. What the hell was he doing stuffed inside of a serving cart? It was a five foot by four foot cart with walls and cabinets and two drawers. On top, a large amount of food for the business folk.
It was the most inconspicuous access point he could think of. He'd had to sneak in this morning, and wait until afternoon. The most key aspect of this job is that he not be seen by any possible spies making sure just this very thing wouldn't happen. The second key factor was that he have incredible patience. Which, as an assassin, he did have. He had been hiding in this location for eight hours, even had to take a short nap inside. His body was crammed and uncomfortable, but his survival depended on it. At least I didn't have to worry about going hungry. He thought, biting into a piece of fruit that he'd never eaten before. It was bitter.
"In position and waiting, boss." he said that last word with a bitter tone, it wasn't a loved word for him, "I'll give you a que right before I'm about to attack. It'll be a game, 'where is he gonna come out and kill everyone from?'"
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 19, 2010 1:46:04 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Jul 19, 2010 1:46:04 GMT -5
Tesa belayed her laugh over the communicator. “You sound stuffed up. Wait to break the ants into your pants until it’s time. Whenever that time it. And don’t kill me. You don’t get paid if I’m dead. Yarum, out.” She cut the transmission and slipped the device into the small pouch she was bringing to the meeting. No lady is without a purse or pouch to carry all her handy dandies in.
She’d moved to the cockpit of her small ship and sat down, minding the loose flows of the purple dress she had decided to wear. Quickly, she established communication with the small landing area not far from the business building. Once landed, she’d receive greetings from strangers before being ushered into a speeder for a short ride to the building; not even ten minutes. Tesa notified who she was, going by the name of Summer Gluum, and requested permission to land in the name of business.
Tesa knew her role. Summer was a rather modest business woman, but looked out for herself. She carried under her thumb several businesses, working for her gain, and she, so far, hadn’t made any alliance to any side of the war. Summer had several smaller quirks, but Tesa was lucky that no one at this meeting had encountered Miss Gluum before. Of course, Tesa was only fitting into a general personality profile, but it would do for now while the real Miss Gluum was trapped here on her ship.
The best part of holding a captive was the lack of fear of being caught. Tesa was simply too careful, to prepared, pulling strings and trusting no one. If it came down to it, Tesa was willing to kill to cover her tracks, but then again, her tracks were usually too carefully concealed before the kill anyway. The Force worked miraculous wonders on the brain, and Tesa always put back things the way she found them when she was finished.
Tesa was proud of her lack of rumor. If she wasn’t known as a faceless, formless shadow, then Tesa was just the way she should be: unknown. The less her name was spread around like butter, the better, and easier, her life was.
However, hanging around Graffion was proving to be hypocritical. The blasted assassin, showing his face and everyone knowing his name on Nar Shaddaa. He had spies who had a great interest in him. And now they had an interest in her. Blasted assassin. She had more rumors than usual now, but, at least they didn’t know her name. Well… maybe that rumor wasn’t such a bad one. She was the woman who had destroyed Graffion’s glorious image.
Tesa stepped from the speeder, nodding to the driver, and walked right into the business building with her head held high. No bodyguards were in toe. The real Miss Gluum didn’t take any with her anywhere anyway, which worked out perfectly for Tesa. Except… she was wondering if she should have taken the other woman’s personality, the one Strae was impersonating as. Then Strae would have been forced to be alone, without protection from other people. There had been no way for Tesa to know that, though. In fact, Tesa shouldn’t even know Strae was in this meeting.
But she did, and she knew who Strae was, and there was no way this kriffing woman was slipping off at the first sight of trouble.
She took the nearest turbolift to the correct floor. A young man directed a lost Miss Gluum to the proper door and also told her dinner would be ready shortly. Summer smiled kindly and walked down to the first door on the right. She shouldered her bag as she entered, and was greeted by a thuggish looking creature staring two feet down at her. Summer paused, staring up at the obvious bodyguard.
“My, aren’t you pleasant.”
“Your bag.”
“Is none of yours!” Summer snorted in reply, stepping into the meeting room fully to allow the door to close.
“Must inspect. Mr. Baldwin orders.”
“Oh…” Summer sighed, removing the bag from her shoulder. “Very well. If you like inspecting feminine products, I suppose that’s your kink.”
Two of the men snickered, and a third stared at her suspiciously. Baldwin. The current leader of the company building she stood in, and who’d called the meeting to discuss who’d he’d ally with. Each of the people in here sat upon a good lot of money and successful companies. The thug finished searching her bag, declared it safe, and handed it back to a grateful Summer. Summer smiled and took the only remaining seat in the room. No frisking for her; the dress she wore gave the impression that nothing could be hidden on her form. It was simply too slim fitting.
“The meeting has begun. As you know, I am looking for a good business partner…” So the man Baldwin began to ramble. Hastily, Miss Gluum withdrew a datapad from her bag and set it on the table. Her eyes shifted from Baldwin to the datapad, as she waited for the device to load and give her access to a note-taking page. Once the page was loaded, Summer Gluum began to grow relaxed in her seat and her eyes glued on Baldwin as he described what he was searching for in a partner and the assets of this company. Sometime during the speech, like most curious people, Summer’s eyes drifted to study each of her opponents.
Filleron; dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, unintimidating and far too interested in Mr. Baldwin for what was healthy. A republic supporter, Tesa knew from her studies.
Yunthar; a zabrak male with small, close knitted tattoos on his face. Iron set jaw, broader, relaxed but gave off an aura not to be played with. Not a sympathizer.
Tam; dark eyed and haired, and appeared rather bored. A younger man, the son of a wealthy man and who hardly understood business. The least threatening. Rat-faced.
And of course, Strae, who seemed unconcerned. But, the two ladies did lock eyes and Gluum smiled rather sweetly before returning her gaze to Baldwin. Tall Baldwin. Skinny. Brown in both hair and eye color. It was apparent through his voice that he was nervous and distrustful of the people in this room.
About thirty minutes into the meeting, the door opened and Gluum and two others glanced at the door. Realizing it was the service tray, Filleron grinned at was the first to receive a drink. Gluum returned attention to business matters.
Tesa, however, had to keep from smiling. She knew where Graffion was. She could sense him, and his place of choice made her want to chuckle. But Tesa refrained for the sake of the Gluum disguise.
It’s on you, Graffion.
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last online Jul 11, 2018 23:15:20 GMT -5
Knight
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Jul 20, 2010 1:05:06 GMT -5
Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Jul 20, 2010 1:05:06 GMT -5
Strae had been slumped throughout the meeting. The lady she was impersonating, Terra Fandull was a very easily bored, yet paranoid person, hence two body-guards. It was perfect for Strae, since she too, was very easily bored by these such meetings and paranoid. Her loose attention to the actual words of Mr. Balwdin was only half acting. Since she didn't really need to know ( neither he nor his business were the important factors of why she was here. ) she didn't paid attention. Instead, she used Terra's natural boredom to observe the room, pretending to look at the other business partners, and looking at the real reason she was here.
Tesa was doing a very good job at being Summer Gluum. Strae, of course, had researched each of the people that would be here, and so she knew a little about Summer Gluum. None of the others even suspected, only Strae did, because Strae already -knew.- Tesa had caught Strae's eye. When her subordinates returned to her with their tails between their legs, Tesa had been so enraged at their failure, but in the end she trumped it up to Tesa's ability, and not a total failure in her own spies. Therefore, for that they were allowed to live. However, they'd almost lost Tesa entirely after that, if there hadn't been a third spy who'd at least followed Tesa to the ship and wrote down everything to know about that ship, she'd have gotten away. Instead of tracing it, since there had been no time, her spies had sent word to all of their assets on several different planets to report on any ship that looked like Tesa's.
After sizing Tesa up ( she could not immediately tell how Tesa had beaten her spies ), Strae had let her gaze linger all around the room. It was plain and boring, and offered only three exits. The first exit was that of the front door, not a particularly pleasant option. There was another exit in the back of the room for emergencies, which would blare an alarm if you opened it. Above them, the ceiling panels could open up, leading into the ventilation systems for this floor, which Strae knew were large enough to hold her.
After examining all of her exits, Strae returned to her normal, bored posture. ‘Summer Gluum’ was simply taking down notes, nothing excited. For a moment their eyes had met, and Strae saw the unique amber eyes of Tesa Yarum. Strae had held that gaze, and she knew then that there was an inner intensity within Tesa that none of her own spies had. Something was off about her, but Strae could not tell what.
Note to self. Strae thought, Get Grizzelda Xanxere to use her forces senses on her.
The door opened, and Strae and all of her body-guards snapped their eyes over, Strae’s purple dress lightly flitting at the frayed bottoms as her body straightened and turned toward the door. She immediately calmed when the short, brown haired attendant walked in pushing the food cart. Definitely not Graffion in a clever disguise, he’d never cut his hair ( she figured ) and he had two eyes. Why was she expecting Graffion anyway? There was only about a 20% chance that he was in league with her again. His intentions in coming here were simple enough, and unrelated to this woman, as far as she could tell, and though they had lost Graffion in the chaos of the police, they hadn’t seen him contact Tesa, and it wasn’t his way to throw a big job together in only a single day. Not as far as she knew. So she relaxed.
Food, now that was a welcome relief. Unfortunately, the attendant wasn’t serving any Champaign, but instead a cider supplement for those who had a taste for liquor. Strae did, but only in small quantities of fine Champaign.
She smirked as a plate was handed to her, “Uh, sir,” She asked the attendent, “Do you have any dressings?” She asked in a soft, inviting voice. He smiled broadly, nodding, “Ah, then will you please bring them to me.”
The attendant hesitated a moment, then nodded, “Hold on for a moment. They are in the bottom of the cart.” The attendant said.
Strae relaxed. Behind her, the Kaleesh body-guard, Ekesh, did not relax. It sniffed the air suspiciously, but could not catch the foreign scent, masked as Graffion was by the foods. A cunning plan. Ven Alstra was hanging forward looking longingly at the food on Strae’s plate. Guard duty wasn’t her thing, and it was starting to be apparent.
Strae sneered at Ven, whispering for her to act more proffessional, or the ruse would break apart. She knew she’d been taking a risk bringing Ven, but Ven had proved clever and quick-witted in the past. The others looked at her funny, Strae gave a meek grin and looked over at Ven, acting in character, “You’re fired after this.” She mumbled.
~*~
The tin plating of the food cart was just thin enough for Graffion’s heat vision to see through. Closest to him was a human named Filleron. One of his targets. Flanking that man was a single body-guard. Other body-guards would be the two thugs at the wall just behind Baldwin, evenly spaced and standing at the ready, ever alert despite the apparent lack of action. Straight behind his cart was another body-guard, a human. Other than that were Ven Alstra distractedly staring at food, and a Kaleesh. The Kaleesh was on guard at first, but gradually relaxed.
The Attendant had a short, almost inaudible conversation with Strae, and then began to head toward Graffion. He looked down at his feet, wondering what Strae had asked. He saw a few small dipping sauces and a fine brand of salsa which he hadn’t recognized. And as he remembered from a dinner he’d ate with her ( not entirely of his choice ) Strae liked sauces. A low growl came from his mouth. He needed to move now or never, “I have to do it now.” He whispered into the mic to Tesa, “So duck, please.”
He moved rapidly, hardly stopping to accommodate the tin doors that concealed his identity. His crouched form, after kicking the doors violently open, shot out and up from the cart, his legs moving quickly toward the closest body-guard. His foot met with groin and the man gasped, bending over and holding his pained area. Graffion was behind him in a moment’s notice, holding the man in a perfect lock. He raised his weapon up before him and began raining bullets, taking precise and accurate shots, still in his heat-vision. The transition might throw of his sight, besides, mechanical eyes were better than a humans.
~*~
Strae was staring at her food when the loud noise of vibrating and smashing tin was heard. She looked up, but her sight was already a blur as the ever alert Kaleesh had grabbed Strae by her two armpits and had lifted her in the air, strafing so as to keep her own body between Strae and the bullets. One shot pinged into wall behind Strae, who had hardly registered what was happening. It all clicked a moment later, when she was hovering in front of the emergency exit.
The Kaleesh maneuvered Strae only slightly to the side, making sure that her vital parts were not in range, then threw a foot forward into the device which opened the door, crushing the device in, but forcing it to open. A moment later four bullets slammed into the Kaleesh’s tough back armor, penetrating easily ( it was built for blaster fire, not bullets ), but the stubborn Kaleesh held on, throwing Strae forward before falling forward.
~*~
Graffion almost screamed at the quick-witted Kaleesh. He’d thought it’s instinct would be to attack while the other spy would protect. Because of this, Strae might get away. When the Kaleesh slumped forward and fell to the floor, he had one moment of a clear shot at Strae. He smirked, re-adjusted, and just as he fired Ven Alstra jumped into the doorway. His bullet which one have killed Strae, his Ven’s left side instead. Ven screamed but continued, grabbing Strae and dragging her to the side, out of range.
The others were not so fast. Graffion quickly gave up on Strae, prioritizing his own life and the rest of the mission. ( Although, with Strae alive, odds of survival dramatically decreased.
The businessmen were all ducking down beneath the table, while the three guards were springing to action. The two behind Baldwin already had their blasters out, firing rapidly at him. The third guard, a Zabrak, was charging wildly at him. Graffion felt the jolts running through his human shield as the bolts hit his body, but the soft jerk of his own, suppressed pistol was much more pleasing and effective. The guard to the left of Baldwin spastically jerked as the bullet slammed into his face, missing the forehead but working just as effectively, slumping against the wall and falling in a trail that left a pillar of blood along the wall.
The Zabrak drew nearer, his head bowled over to bull ram Graffion. With his strong arm Graffion took a step back and shoved the guard he held with all of his might. The guard and the Zabrak collided, the horns on the aliens head impaling the poor guard, and they both flew passed Graffion. He crouched lower and aimed, ignoring them and putting three slugs into the final guards chest, a blaster shot moving right over Graffion’s shoulder, a sure hit had he not ducked.
To the left, one of the businessmen, Tam, a ratty man, was fleeing in a crouched position for the same exit Strae had gone through. No others would escape. Graffion’s single slug caught the little man in the top of the head, causing him to fall forward with a slight roll. Filleron, another target, had leaped for one of the dead guards weapons, and was fumbling with it to shoot at Graffion.
His last slug found that man’s throat.
The only two remaining were Baldwin himself, and Yunthar, a Zabrak. The Zabrak guard to Graffion’s left had gotten untangled, and both Yunthar and the guard were attacking him, being a powerful race, and Yunthar being one of the furthest from the exits.
Graffion’s sleeve dagger slid out easily, and he stepped to the left, one hand blocking the powerful punch of the guard and the other pushing his dagger into the Zabrak’s chest, pulling it out and stabbing it back in three times before Yunther even reached Graffion, then he grabbed Yunther’s wrist, the easiest way to control an opponent, and tugged him toward Yunther.
The businessman was obviously not naïve, and did a fancy enough dodge from the flying body, but when he came to a stop, Graffion’s dagger was piercing through his face once, twice, and a third time. Blood exploded from him. He died almost instantly.
Wiping the blood off on the dead Zabrak’s suit, Graffion strode with a swagger toward Mr. Baldwin, who was cowering under the table. As the cocky Graffion approached, Baldwin slowly rose to his feet, confidently stating, “I could use a man like you, you know. I could drop charges, pay you more than whoever hired you ever dreamed. I have the resources, if you just allow me, the attendant, and Miss Gluum to live. Just walk, right now, I won’t order my guards to kill-“
Graffion had arrived, and his dagger moved so swiftly Baldwin couldn’t even believe what had just happened. He didn’t register the blood that was running down the throat until he felt the sticky wetness all over his chest. He looked down, eyes widened, and then fell with a disturbing gasp.
Graffion’s combat senses then told him to duck, so he did so. Turning and ducking, he saw a stave fly over-head, viciously and skillfully swung. Above him, the Kaleesh had managed to stand, limp toward him, and swing it’s weapon. Graffion knew he could win now, the Kaleesh was weakened and slow. He had enough time for a short melee. The blasters were loud, but he hadn’t seen any security immediately out the doorway, whoever had been out there earlier had left after inspections were complete.
He rammed his knife forward, but the Kaleesh dropped the stave and grabbed his wrist with it’s free hand. His fist moved too fast for the free hand to stop his second attack, though. It rammed into the Kaleesh’s stomach, and she doubled over forward. Graffion reared his fist for a powerful attack, slamming it into the Kaleesh’s mask hard. So hard, the mask shattered and the Kaleesh flew backward, landing on it’s back. If it weren’t dead, it was unconscious.
Graffion needed to make his exit. He jumped up on the table and leaped up to the ceiling, grabbing either end of a strong vent, and holding himself up with powerful arms. He swung his feet forward and kicked one of the ceiling squares up, it gently moved, revealing a space.
The front doors slammed open, and as Graffion crawled up above the ceiling, several fully armored security thugs marched in, rifles at the ready. Blaster fire followed his retreat through the ventillation shafts, and he found himself crawling as fast as he could.
Graffion was upset that two targets, not just one, but TWO had escaped. However, he was also proud of himself. All of the targets had died in less than fifteen seconds, and Graffion himself had been gone in twenty, not a particularly easy feat. ~*~
Strae had booked it down the hallway she was at as fast as her little legs could take her, with Ven following at a limping pace. Both of their hearts were thumping intensely.
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Squee
The Keeper
2,286 posts
95 likes
I am Deception, and I defy your holiest moralities.
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last online Oct 24, 2016 0:33:56 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 21, 2010 17:16:57 GMT -5
Post by Squee on Jul 21, 2010 17:16:57 GMT -5
Gluum hardly gave the serving attendant a glance as he set a drink in front of her. She was far too busy brushing her fingers over the datapad, too tuned in with the meeting. The businesswoman also had yet to make a statement. Actually, both the women had yet to make a statement. Gluum realized the every-so-often glance from Baldwin or one of the chattier males, but she only smiled in return and made a motion with her fingers: pass.
The woman behind the disguise wasn’t interested in the meeting. In fact, her mind was elsewhere. Tesa made notes on the datapad referring to Strae and her “bodyguards”. She mulled over whether or not Insanus had found any bugs. She would check for herself before she left off planet, too. Tesa suppressed any and all thoughts as to where Graffion was cooped. If she dwelled on those thoughts too much, she was for sure to smile at an awkward time. However, his presence lingered just out of her awareness, where she could monitor him.
Tesa also familiarized herself with Strae’s presence in the process. When and if the woman slipped through Graffion’s fingers, she wasn’t going to escape Tesa. The dark woman was forbidding Strae to get away unscathed and unchallenged. There had to be an end to this spy business. Force knew what her master would do to her if Tesa brought home a line of spies.
Her purse talked and Tesa/Gluum stiffened. Tesa made Gluum furrow her brow in total confusion and reached for her bag. An instant later, Tesa heard the loud, metallic bang. Instead of sitting up with the bag, Tesa leaned over further and pushed the seat away. It rolled across the floor that Tesa hugged. Immediately, she surveyed the feet from under the table, responding to the violent noise. Strae’s feet and dress hem lifted straight upward, and a snarl curled over her face.
Blaster fire was already blistering the air overhead and Tesa continued to watch the feet, not knowing whose was whose except for Graffion’s. She knew only Strae’s position in the room by the woman’s unique presence in the Force. And the spy master was too dangerously close to the…
Alarms began to ring. And a feline’s smirk stretched over Tesa’s face. Her hand was loosening the bonds of her dress in the front. Seconds ticked by. Thuds of punches, clicking of feet, someone crouched going to the emergency door, and the shrill ring of the bell. Tesa thanked Strae for the alarm trigger. It made getting out of the building harder, and if Tesa wasn’t going anywhere, then Strae wasn’t either.
Unless… no! No! No. The spy master would be at her fingertips. Tesa lifted her head over the edge of the table, watching her blond-haired assassin give his opponents what for. Graffion’s back turned, and Tesa stood, making it appear she was going for her escape. She was only seconds behind the person who left last. Tesa made it to the door and opened it.
“Wait! WAIT! Waiter, attendant! This way! The assassin will expect us to go this way! Come! Come! This way!”
The man halted and turned back to her. Tesa ushered to him quickly, jerking her head back around to see if Graffion was still turned. He hesitated for only half a second before racing back to her. Tesa held out her hand to the man, which he took, and she dragged him behind her as she made a beeline for the entrance. The security team was already piling in and Tesa ducked behind their bodies, pulling the man along. She took a split second to look for Graffion, but saw he was already hauling himself into the vents. With an inward smile, Tesa began to run down the hall, panicky, still holding onto the attendant.
She keyed a turbolift and breathed a small prayer of thanks as one instantly opened. There was only so far Strae would make it through the emergency exit. Tesa planned on cutting her off. She tugged the man into the turbolift, pressing the close button several times in a row until the doors shut, and breathed a stuttering sigh of relief. Concentrating, Tesa zeroed in on Strae’s presence. In the building. Good. Very good. Make it stay that way for now. She punched the button for the fifth floor down and stood covering the panel from the attendant.
The doors opened a second, and he instantly became hesitant.
“Hold a minute—“
“No time, sir. Come with me, please.”
“Tell me—“
“Come with me,” Tesa said with more intensity, tugging on him gently. She nudged his mind a little with the Force and, after a moment more, began to follow her without further question. With an uneasy smile, Tesa began to lead the charge down the hall, moving fast. The alarm still blared, as she’d hoped, and she burst through the floor’s emergency exit.
“Where are we—“
“Follow,” Tesa said lightly, nudging his mind again. Instead of taking the right to go down the steps, she took a left, still holding onto the man’s hand, and began to take the stairs up. He followed without question. “We’re tricking the assassin. He’ll still expect us to go downstairs through the exit. Instead, we’ll head back up, to the roof. What’s your name?”
“Okay and Richard.”
Tesa smirked as she ascended the stairs. She turned the sharp corner left and was greeted with a hall, stairs ascending back up to the right. She stopped now, closing her eyes and breathing deep. Strae was coming. Richard was confused. She pushed reassurance into his mind. “Someone’s coming. Don’t you hear them coming down the steps?” The sound of hurrying feet finally echoed in the hall, and around the corner came two bodies: one of that midget Strae and her bodyguard.
Immediately, Tesa’s face lit up with a wild grin. “Did you think you would get away so easily, Miss Arst? I think you’re sorely mistaken.”
“What are you—“
“Shut up!” Tesa sneered, yanking the rat-faced man in front of her. “You see this, Strae? Do you see Mr. Richard?” She rubbed her hands around the back of Richard’s neck in a gentle massive. “Mr. Richard tried to escape, didn’t he? Yes he did,” she cooed softly as she placed her hands on his shoulders, patting him softly. “But he didn’t get far. And I can’t be sure if he’s one of yours.” Tesa snarled suddenly, her hands blurred toward his neck. One palm connected just behind his jaw and the other one at the base. A flowing connect, grasp, and twist, and a sharp crack filled the hall. Richard’s head lopped awkwardly to one side and his body hit the ground. “No one escapes that I want to die.
“Tell your bodyguard to keep her weapons in check. Not so much as a twitch or this could get ugly.
“You did not follow me. Not really, anyway, so I won’t kill you. Not right now. I figured I’d leave that to Graffion. And I wanted Terra Fandull to die, not Strae Arst, but there’s room yet to reconsider.” Tesa smiled, liking to make it certain that her opinion was subject to change whenever. She stepped over Richard’s body, and reached up, breaking away the top of her dress, peeling back holds to reveal a sort of suit beneath it.
It was a backup plan for Tesa. Not many people could run well in dresses. If things had gotten too far south, Tesa would have shed the dress and run in her suit underneath, with free legs, and get out fast.
“Now… we talk. What the kriff do you want with me? I thought I made it clear through my little messengers to scrat and tell you to get off my back. Instead, you attend the same meeting I do, and then you want to run away?” Tesa placed her hands on her hips. “I find that very rude. So, what have you got to say for yourself?”
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