Populate [Black Sun] Shut Up and Drive || BSS Populate of Celegia

[Rixa]

Rixa Vey

She noticed a woman with a sword slide near them and grinned at her. "Interested in something a little faster than the race?"

The crowd surged like a living thing, all elbows and sweat and shouted bets. Rixa drank it in with a grin.

Pod races were one of the few thrills left in the galaxy that didn’t involve someone trying to shoot her. Or complications the morning after.

The scream of engines and the stink of burning engines made her pulse tap out a rhythm she hadn’t felt in days.

"The race looks pretty damn fast to me," she called back. Her hand fell to the purse of credits tucked into her jacket.

 

[Vashra Foss]

The Boonta Eve finally came to life with a cacophony of scorching engine heat and a thunderous roar of racing pods no longer held back.

But it wasn´t the race that occupied Vashra´s mind.

Finon´s proposal was crazy but it actually sounded like something. And perhaps it would be good for her in more than one way.

„Nar Shaddaa, favorite tourist spot of the galaxy..." Vashra mused "Never thought I would want to go back into this Hutt brothel but yes, actually it´s an idea if only to prove that I left it behind for good ad can go any time I want. I´m in Finon. Let me deliver my cargo and then I´m coming. "

And while she was there Vashra would prove to al the street scum that her edge was sharper than ever, a lot sharper than theirs…

Finon Nalle

 

[Eaton Waters]

Waiting. He knew he was going to be fine in the race. The engines started. He had his controls. The droids had done their calculations and measurements on the repair work. The results were good.

Looking up, the lights were changing, the race start was being called. Ready.

Engines on.

Marks were set, he knew the course, he had a small heads up on his goggles to help, hopefully track himself around the course. Without a droid co-pilot, it was going to up to him to navigate, to feel his way through the race. Something his people have always done.

Pamarthean and Blubreen alike.

Set?

Up ahead was the starlight flats, the mushroom mesa, the crater valley. A lot of technical driving and flying. Once he got through it, he’d be able to catch up on the Dune Sea. It was a Sea, for Force’s sake. And he was an aquatic.

This heat though.

Go!

Tightening his grip, he pushed both throttles forward, hoping to leap from the stadium and get ahead as he moved to the winding flats.


Das Jericho Kurt Korrado

 

[Eaton Waters]

forgot roll.

 

[Eaton Waters]

Forgot its a 6

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Velzari Tharn //: Raylin Fall //:
//: Attire //:

It didn't take long. As she finished speaking, she could feel the shift in the air. Boots scraped against the floor, and Quinn's eyes flickered towards their source. It was then she saw past the armor and the guns to the woman who was surrounded, chained — Mauve. Quinn felt her chest tighten, the guilt clawing at her throat as she held her breath.

Every bit of anger began to surface as the room's temperature dropped suddenly. The Force shifted, ebbing and flowing to the Sith Lord as she remembered the sounds of that day: the gunshots, the shouting, and the shuttle whisking away the Zeltron. She had never stopped thinking about it, nor did she stop trying to fix it.

As the room grew colder, the air thickened. A sick feeling of dread loomed in the room as the woman drew upon the Force, gathering power as she stewed in her seat. If she wanted, she could snap every neck that got in her way to the chained woman.

But Quinn remained seated, her eyes locked onto Mauve. It wasn't until the self-entitled trooper decided to speak. He felt himself worth her attention. His words muffled against her ear as he commanded her and the Underlord to pick.

"How cute..." She spoke down to him, her eyes flickering over to the man, then to his gun.

"You assume that toy will protect you? End the life of either the Prince or me?" She stood, laughing at the man and his entitlement. "I will choose then,"

The weight of the Force began to bear down on the room, suffocating it with dread and despair. Every emotion that the woman felt bled into the Force, affecting those around her.

"You. Show me how much faith you have in that armor and weapon against a Sith."

 

[Raylin Fall]

​

Another long breath in. Acceptance.

“It’s a rifle.” He said, his index finger curling around the trigger.

Slugthrower.

Steel core rounds.

Penetration up to seven inches of durasteel. At this range, maybe not so much.

“It’s worked before.” He didn’t move yet. But he could. He was fast. A box drill. He could get at least three, four. His split times were that good.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Raylin Fall //: Velzari Tharn //: Mauve du Vain //:

He was either stupid or unaware of the situation he had put himself in. A rifle versus the Heir to the Sith Empire. She pitted him, but at least he could die with a fool’s courage.

“Fearless or stupid, will be how you are remembered.” She spat, the room’s weight grew heavy as the temperature continued to chill. As she exhaled, the heat from her breath condensed and her hate only grew.

“Come on, shoot it. If you have so much faith in your skills — shoot me. Wave your rifle around and prove how much you’re compensating.”

Quinn opened her arms, giving the man a clear target.

“I’ll give you a free shot, but after that — I’ll have you twisted inside out, so you can watch your wretched heart beat as you breathe your last breath.”