Dumah Zohar
Character
"'Look after this and look after that.' Bah! The damn man needs to make up his mind before it becomes art on the floor! I swear, if I have to..." The ramblings of the red Twi'lek were starting to annoy him, a combination of high pitch complaining and not doing her job properly. Four times now she has had to send back orders that people requested, and she wondered why her boss was complaining...either that or just trying to find an excuse to fire her by piling on the work needed done. Work or not, his target did not seem to want to make an appearance. Tending to his drink, wearing his casual black long sleeve, blaster pistol at his hip, Dumah looked around again to find them. For the last week, he's been going across the surface of Telos and its cities to find a business man by the name of Arviar Kumol, a rich and stupid politician who ended up pissing off a Senator. Arviar must have known he would be targeted, because the guy had been evading the lime light for some time now. It became a combination of patience and boredom in this chase for this man. In all honesty, Dumah was surprised that the Guild sent this commission to him. He hadn't heard anything from them for weeks; not that he was complaining, but without something to do, he got very edgy without any work. Now that he was on the job, everything flowed back into place. Now he just needed Arviar to show up, kill him, and collect his pay before getting the hell off of Telos.
A few minutes passed, then another, and still no Arviar. This was the most likely place he'd end up at, based on previous information and the fact he frequented the Villas Bar every day since arriving planet side. Still...the waiting was...and in comes Arviar. 'Yes...now what are you...' And in comes his three bodyguards, all of them armed with blaster rifles and pistols. They sweept their eyes over the room once before resuming their leisurely walk. 'Plan A...poison him...scrapped...f*ck...' Dumah sipped at his drink and observed quietly as they took a booth across from him. The layout was as such: Dumah sat at the bar of the catina, and there were several booths around they could sit in. For them, they sat across the room in booths near the bar, and across from Dumah, within direct eye-sight, and not giving one bit of attention to the pale man. Still, they didn't sit together. Arviar sat alone, while the bodyguards sat one booth over, their eyes on the door, and not caring about the occupients already here. 'Confident, or arrogant...still...' There were a few options now open to him. Approach the table and strike a conversation, eventually slipping a poison into his drink as planned without the bodyguards noticing, or drop a smoke screen in the room, put a bolt in him, and leave before they're none the wiser. Personally, the act of shooting didn't appeal to him for obvious reasons, though it was the most direct. The life of an assassin...never dull.
A few minutes passed, then another, and still no Arviar. This was the most likely place he'd end up at, based on previous information and the fact he frequented the Villas Bar every day since arriving planet side. Still...the waiting was...and in comes Arviar. 'Yes...now what are you...' And in comes his three bodyguards, all of them armed with blaster rifles and pistols. They sweept their eyes over the room once before resuming their leisurely walk. 'Plan A...poison him...scrapped...f*ck...' Dumah sipped at his drink and observed quietly as they took a booth across from him. The layout was as such: Dumah sat at the bar of the catina, and there were several booths around they could sit in. For them, they sat across the room in booths near the bar, and across from Dumah, within direct eye-sight, and not giving one bit of attention to the pale man. Still, they didn't sit together. Arviar sat alone, while the bodyguards sat one booth over, their eyes on the door, and not caring about the occupients already here. 'Confident, or arrogant...still...' There were a few options now open to him. Approach the table and strike a conversation, eventually slipping a poison into his drink as planned without the bodyguards noticing, or drop a smoke screen in the room, put a bolt in him, and leave before they're none the wiser. Personally, the act of shooting didn't appeal to him for obvious reasons, though it was the most direct. The life of an assassin...never dull.