Angst

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"], @Others


There is nothing for him. Nothing.


He is blessed with the affinity of the force flowing through his blood as a torrent of storm, yet somewhere within him he was too weak to command even the simplest of its abilities. In the respect of ineptitude, he was most certainly like father like son. Voracitos, with all the power he had commanded he could not even accomplish the simplest of his goals alone. Where the fat man was the master of gluttony, he was but lowly envy.


But he didn't know of his supposed father, not really. He knew not his name, face, or even his history. He knew nothing of him at all... The boy was without memory beyond what could be remembered of his time trying so hard to be a Jedi. But he couldn't even be a gardener he had failed so miserably. He learned and accepted their tenants, yet he could never be one of them. He believed he had failed because he could not learn their secret power... the truth though was far from that lie.


Enough of this though, this story is not any mere failed youngling of the Jedi, and we will not ponder further the predilections of his plague.


Having abandoned his home of 7 years, the boy in a fit of frustration tears through the underbelly of Coruscant, not entirely sure what it was he was planning on doing down there. Only fate would tell what would become of him down there.

 

[Dissero]

Coruscant was really the last place Dissero aught to be. He did not make his living or stay alive by sticking his neck out for others, nor did he succeed at his talents by making himself known. As it were, and much to his dismay, Coruscant sheltered a man of whom he had need to see. And, as it happened, luck was on his side.

The Traveler's Locket was also on his side now, too.

He was riding public transportation - some sorry excuse for a tram in the lower levels of the cityplanet. Here the air was at a choking point - filled with the sordid perfume of destitution and societal wastage. For a man who was used to dirtying his hands on the filth of the galaxy, he was lament to touch the hand-holds that had seen such overwhelming traffic of only Force knew what.

Hood of his traveling cloak pulled, he looked cross towards his associate: a veteran Noghri assassin the likes of which had lived for centuries by the side of some unmentionable Great, and raised the man that stood before him from infancy. Taught him everything he knew. Learnt him like he were his own son. That was the power of loyalty to an old Mal'ary Ush. His name was Mahet and though the reptilian often looked murderous, as was the nature of the beast, he looked particularly irksome on this day.

Clearly Dissero wasn't the only one loathing their current situation.

Mahet's leering gaze surveyed the passengers of the tram, lingering over those who dared stare back, "This is taking too long."

"We're nearly there," the Archivist replied, his own eyes watching the landmarks flitting by the windows, "the shop is just within the sector."

"I don't understand why we needed to come here for this information," the Noghri narrowed his eyes, hoarse tone dropping as he leaned in, "wasn't it on his holocron?"

"It was. But like much of everything else, it was incomplete. The rest of it should be here, with this shop keeper. It was sold to him for safekeeping."

"What do you mean, should? You do not know for certain?" Mahet hissed.

"I know nothing for certain until I do," the man replied, pulling the Traveler's Locket from within his robes and folding the chain over his head. Within the blink of an eye his appearance had changed and no one, but no one would know any better. No one but a Noghri who already knew.

"This is our stop."

@[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

Broke walk down the streets bitterly, without aim. He bumped into people and shrugged them off his rather lanky frame. How could the Jedi claim he had any potential, if he couldn't even wield a saber without the worry of chopping his own arm off? He did everything they told him to do, to believe. He knew every code and mantra by heart, but without the proficiency expected of him he couldn't take any of them to heart.

It made him angry that he could so blatantly reject the codes in his frustrations... it was essentially a paradox. He is frustrated with the codes so he rejects them, which makes him angrier because he rejected them, thus putting him back in the loop of frustrations. He was a broken record of incomprehensible teenage angst. He was strong, but unbelievably weak. He was a boy of opposites that shouldn't ever mix, yet did so anyway.

Locked away in his own tiny little frustrating world of his mind, he couldn't give half a care about the devious shenanigans transpired literally not a step away from him, as they stepped off the bus. Finally returning to reality, he just realized how close the stupid bus came to hitting him. He jumped back, and then immediately burst in anger.

"Hey watch it kark head I'm walking here!" He saw the disguised Dissero coming off the transportation. "Hey you, did this guy give you crappy service? I need an excuse to hit him in the shnoz."

 

[Dissero]

Dissero greeted the younger man with raised brows and a look back at the tram operator - some old tentacle head who was very likely a deep-seeded xenophobe. "Only if they skimped on mid-ride snacks. Do they do that here?" Playing the part, he looked to his traveling companion with a questionable gaze, "On Corellia they give out teanuts."

Mahet gave him a deadpan stare and stepped off a ways to inspect their arrival station.

"No? What a shame. A bit of salt might be just the thing to cover the taste of the air. Tell me boy, do you know how to get to - oh, err, hold on lemme look here," what appeared to be a middle-aged man, slight of build and boasting heavy scruff, rummaged through his robes for a business card that was crumpled and stained with a caffe ring, "here it is, here it is. Ahm, Beezle's Thrift and Exchange."

@[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"] (sorry about the delay)

"Beatles What and Change? Stranger what the hell are you looking for?" Boke laughed, only slightly disturbed by what he thought he heard. He really didn't know how to react to it. He had never been down here before today, and it appeared the lowlifes were already talking about insect fecal matter. Coruscant was a weird place, from what he could tell of his tenure.

"How about I ask you a question instead, do you know the fastest place out of this dung heap? I'm Jedi broke." He said the name of the Jedi with such scorn and frustration it would be difficult for anyone force sensitive or otherwise not to tell he didn't much care for them.

 

[Dissero]

- No problemo.

"No no, I said Beezle's Thrift and Exchange," the man said again over the loud hissing and thrumming of the lift engines kicking into gear. He looked around, nonplussed, straining to hear what the boy was saying back, "you're a'what? A Jedi bloke? Well I'm terribly sorry to hear that, don't fancy that job. You lost or something? Ain't even got a coin purse on ya, tell ya what, help me find this place-" he waggled the card in front of Boke's nose, "isn't that what Jedi folk do? Help people? Help me find this place," he repeated, "and we'll get you a lift."

He was grinning. He was also missing a tooth. Where that nuance of detail came from Dissero wasn't sure, but it made him all the more appreciative for his full set of teeth in his true form.

@[member="Boke"]

 

[pecusadark]

Mind if i jump in))

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"], @[member="pecusadark"] (It's public so sure, though in the future refrain from OOC posts in peoples threads, people often get annoyed with such things. If you really feel obligated to ask, you can PM a message to a character, or even leave a comment on their wall, you are also going to need a profile )

"Well that's what I was going to be, until they found out I had no talent what so ever. Now look at me. Anyway, sure I'll help you. It'll keep me moving I guess," The teen shrugged with an almost flustered look. He didn't know where any of this crap was, but it couldn't hurt to see if he could. If he wasn't so frustrated with his teachings, he might have attempted to look for it in his minds eye, but to hell with that!

He looked around looking for something... thrifty. Well that really narrowed it down, everywhere.

"Hmm, do you know this Beezle? What's his type? Alien?" He asked the grinning man as he started to move through the crowd. He searched the crowd for some kind of identity that... well, spoke to him. He was trying to deduct if there was anything he could do, beyond asking another person.

"Oh yeah, my name's Boke. 'Case you were wondering," He said absent minded. Suddenly he picked up on someone that seemed to... make him want to ask him, but he wasn't sure yet. Not sure if his stomach was just jumbling at a coincidental time.

 

[Dissero]

"Ahyeah?" the man lofted a bushy brown eyebrow at Boke and pulled a cigarette from a tin within his robes. He sparked it up and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke over a chuckle of intrigue. Failed Jedi was he? Interesting sort of tale. Dissero pondered just what it was the boy had failed at, being a good sport? The Jedi didn't take in just any whelp from the streets - there had to be a reason he'd been recruited to their numbers. They had to have seen something in him...

"Don' know much about nuffin' of the Jedi, bub," he replied, "but they took yeh in an' that's much more than I 'kin say fer meself. An I never seen this Beezle in my life but I think he's a toydarian. Wassat-fer?" the man gave his noghri companion a hairy look.

"The shop is this way," Mahet hissed, eyeing Boke before turning and leading off through the crowds.

"Yeh can call me Kep," he said, grinning over the cigarette pinched in his lips. He gave Boke a hearty pat on the back, curling a long bony hand over his shoulder as he stepped after Mahet, "so what did yeh do, chop off yer own foot with a laser sword?"

@[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

Boke didn't much like Kep's pat on the back, but he might as well have. He was already talking to strangers, what additional harm could come of him being perhaps a bit too friendly? A lot obviously, but Boke didn't much care. He didn't know what to do with his life. He didn't have any family, no history, no friends, and the Jedi couldn't do anything with him.... they couldn't even send him into the labors of farming! Well they could have as manual labor but who would want to accept that as being the entirety of their lives? Not Boke, that was for sure.

"Might as well have. They picked me up because they thought I would be strong... turns out I couldn't any more lift a feather with my mind than I could hold a starship in one hand. I'm not even a good farmer, all the plants die at my touch." He said exasperated, frustrated that he was rather useless at finding togorians in a crowd too. Why doesn't he just add another thing to his long list of inabilities. In fact, he could probably learn about everything you can do with the force simply by knowing what he can't do. That was an exaggeration of course, there were plenty of non-force sensitives who didn't have a clue about the force, dismissing it as magic. He'd have done the same if not for experiencing the Jedi actually work it around him.

"So then Kep, I inadvertently explained my back story for being in this dump... what's yours? And why the kark are you going to a togorian thrift shop?"

 

[Dissero]

"Ah-haha," Kep lifted his other hand, tipping it towards Boke, "toydarian, not togorian. At least I hope not togorian. Them cats are bad news."

"Ehhh, I'm a collector of sorts. By that I mean to say that I like shiny things. I dun live here," the man grimace, releasing another long puff of smoke, "ahm from Corellia an I got a tip off from a friend of a friend of a ...guy, that somethin' I've been lookin' for has found its way here. Could be nothin'. Might not be here at all, but I always liked ta travel so I figure I'll take a long weekend holiday for my trouble if it ain't."

Yellowed eyes searched through the crowd for the back of the noghri, finding him up ahead. Kep snaked his way through a gathering outside a smokes shop and looked back to Boke, "Listen bub, yer worth ain't measured by no one but yerself. Everyone's good at something and let me tell you, there's a lot of somethin's in this galaxy to be good at. So you flunked outta Jedi school, s'what? Ye jes landed yerself a big ol' opportunity. So what're ya good at, eh?"

@[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

@[member="Lord Dissero"]

"Then the Force must hate me, because with my luck I'll sooner die than run out of things to fail at... unless you count making things die inadvertently as a skill. I seem to be pretty good at that." He shrugged as he followed them, not really having anything else to do. He wondered what he could be collecting that was worth travelling across borders, and going to the most decrepit sectors of Coruscant that was rumored to be hanging around in some alien thrift store that somehow wasn't being threatened by buyers passing through? Hmm, now that he thought of it, it made more sense: the Underworld, a criminal organization of some sort, or just a legit business to cover up the black market illicit business. Fancy that.

"Huh, so you're an offworld black marketeer. Didn't expect that, though with the amount of dots you gave me I'm surprised I didn't connect them sooner." He continued his walk without care, "If you don't mind my further prodding, what illicit item or items are we after today? Don't worry, I ain't no Jedi no more."

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

[member="Lord Dissero"]

Boke coughed, as his writer blatantly reminded his master using the most minimal amount of Out of Character chatter as he could possibly muster without having to PM him.

 

[Dissero]

OOC - I'll have you know, Sir, I got a good chuckle out of that. Smartass. Haha

IC -

"Makin' things die is a highly valued skill..." Kep eyeballed him oddly, "if'n yeh know where to look fer employment."

His stare grew dark and his grin broad, toothy, and ruthless at the words black marketeer. He was a keen little pigeon, he'd give him that, but there were just some cards you kept hidden up your sleeve when you intended to play the game of dirt.

"I 'aven't a clue what yer on about, Buck. Jes' lookin' to get back what's mine, is all. Black Market's a messy place. Full'a criminals and lowly gents that'll take ya for everything ya got. I'm more a fan of the legit kinna business. Beezle," Kep looked to the card in his hand and rapped it on his knuckles a few times, "ee's a legit kinna guy, or so I'm told."

[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

[member="Lord Dissero"]

"I highly doubt people will hire me to make their enemies plants wither. 'Alright kid, I'll give you a hundred credits if you ding this guys crops ASAP!'" He laughed at himself, but it was filled with pain. "Though I do know what you mean. I attempted to heed the Jedi edicts, but now I'm just pissed off and I feel like venting. Which brings me to you, obviously." Boke said in response to Kep.

He supposed that he might be right, that if all else fails he could be a criminal. But with the skill he had now? Forget it. He hardly had experience with holding a blaster let alone aiming, and although he had been taught the art of a lightsaber (and failed), he would be completely inept with any melee weapon. He did like the sound though, of being strong and beating things up. Only the tiniest tinkle of guilt filled him that he was giving in so easily to his inner aggression. But he wasn't Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes anymore, he was more or less a street rat. Any employment would be good employment, and well worth his time.

"Huh, okay then Mr. Legit. How much longer until we reach him? I've no where to be, and you don't seem to mind my presence very much. Interested in a protege? Maybe if you're as legit as you say, you could keep me out of trouble." He made sure to keep up with his bigger pace.

 

[Dissero]

"Sure," Kep replied absently. He wasn't paying attention to the kid. Instead he came to a stop beside the Noghri who had come to a stop before a back alley.

"Whatever you say, Buck. Is this it?"

The noghri nodded, folding his arms.

"Ain't shadey a'toll. Welp, let's be at it. C'mere Buck, I could use a set of strong arms. Heavy liftin' n' all."

Several minutes later, after stepping into Beezle's Thrift & Exchange and taking a look around, Kep found a rather lovely antique ceramic vase and handed it to Boke. The vase was heavy and gleamed in the dim light of the shop.

Beezle the toydarian buzzed into the room from a back hall, "Uuba la-woh," he grunted.

"Wotcher," Kep said to Boke, tapping at his nose with a forefinger, and turned to the alien to greet him, "Alloh, friend. I've come to recollect something that you have that is mine."

"Ashanga," Beezle sniffed, "people come in here saying that all the time, but I'll tell you the same thing I tell all'a them," he narrowed his eyes, "nothing in here is yoursa until it's paid for."

"You see?" Kep motioned to Beezle and glanced back at Boke, "legit." The scraggly man then suddenly launched himself at the toydarian, and for several moments there was hectic chaos as the pair clattered about, wings flapping, curses flying, teeth gnashing, until Kep seemed to have the upper hand, though was struggling.

"Alright Buck," Kep said while he wrested the alien to the ground, "hit him with the vase!"

[member="Boke"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

[member="Lord Dissero"]

That came as a surprise. One moment Boke was following a rather shady figure and venting his feelings (because what else do failure teens do?) and suddenly they were in the thrift shop and he went psycho. Attacking the toydarian after being told he couldn't just take what he wanted. He had been handed a rather intricate vase, he was standing there rather flustered and confused by the whole scenario. He was following the path of a stranger because he was angry, and now the stranger was attacking someone, asking him to help. He had been trained as a Jedi in all of their edicts, and immediately his mind was repulsed by the aggression. He didn't want to hit him! He never wanted this!

I should be stopping this man not helping him! He thought. Alas though, his mind raced but not as quickly as his emotions he had let loose earlier took hold. They are both scum! And the glorious Jedi lied to me! I should take what I can because I was told I had it all, to find out I have nothing! In that moment, his body had already reacted before reason could stop him. In the heat of frustration and anger, his hands gripped the vase high above his head, and without him realizing, faint tendrils gripped the vase where his hands touched and began turning it into a fine ash before the majority of it fell over the Toydarians head.

In that moment of adrenaline the boy was huffing and puffing, with angry hands by his side, and frantic eyes looking over what had done. His eyes looked to his hands and saw the strange soot on his hands. It looks so alive. He thought witnessing it. What is it? He surveyed the scene, and couldn't help but become more frustrated. What had he done? This was precisely the opposite of what he had been taught. Then again, what did they know? He was supposed to be strong, yet could do nothing.

"What the hell is going on!" He yelled and shook his body in a tiny fit of anger.