First Reply Carry Stress In The Jaw

[Salvor King]

The Thirsty Vornskr, Denon​

The Bothan's meaty fist connected against King's jaw with a meaty thud. His vision flashed white for a split second, returning into a haze of deadringer imagery. Left behind by the Bothan's strike was a fierce ringing in King's ears. The five-time Shockboxing champion's footing faltered, stumbling back into the cage wall. The Bothan looked on, both fists still held up in anticipation.

The thunderous tempo of the dance music blared into his ears. The collective clamor of the crowd, jeer, and cheers, soaring just below it. These drunks wanted blood, and the King lived to please his people. He leaned forward, letting the rigid elasticity of the cage wall give him a slight nudge forward. He wobbled slightly, watching the Bothans eyes and they remained on King's hands.

King grinned for a split second, his teeth stained a yellowish red with his own blood. This was no shockboxing match. King torqued his shoulders, using them to lead his hips. His leg extended, thrusting forward to meet the Bothan's snout with the backing force of his spinning momentum. A hollow snap-crunch sounded off alongside a meaty slap, evoking a collective "Oh!" from the crowd.

The Bothan stumbled and bumbled, slumping over against the cage wall. His fingers gripped at the gaps, keeping himself from falling to the ground. King extended his arms, wiggling his fingers towards the ceiling and goading the crowd to cheer. They obliged. Eyes bludging, blinking, and lungs panting, the Bothan tried to retain his own consciousness. King stepped backwards, grabbing onto the cage wall and squatting. The motions of his free hand eagerly and aggressively beckoned the Bothan to stand up straight. "Cmon, cmon!" he shouted.

His opponent regained his upright balance. King roared as he sprinted forward towards his dazed opposition. He leaped in mid-stride, throwing his right leg upward. Knee crunched against bony snout, sending the Bothan back-first into the ground. King fell forward into the cage wall, gripping with both hands and flashing an angry face to the crowd, teeth bared. They cheered. He shook his head rapidly, shaking the cage as hard as he could to evoke even more claps and cheers.

"One!" The crowd began to count with the Bothan motionless on the floor. "Two!" King held his arms out and spun around slowly. A premature gesture of victory. "Three!" The Bothan writhed. "Four!" King pantomimed looking at a watch. "Five!" A furry hand placed itself flat against the ground. "Five!" The other did the same. "Six." Crawling slowly and laboriously, the Both tried to find his way toward a cage wall. King pointed out one finger, pulling his thumb back like cocking the hammer of a slugthrower.

"Seven!" With slow, exaggerated motion, he pointed the finger towards the crawling opponent. "Eight!" King's elbow flexed, bringing the hand up and mimicking the recoil of a gun. "Bang," he mouthed silently, lips popping on the first ghost-syllable. A subtle push through the force forced the Bothan back to the ground as if he'd lost his strength. "Nine!" Cheers and claps broke up some of the ninth counts. "Ten!" King blew some air over the top of his finger like dispersing the smoke of a firearm.

A loud buzzer sounded over the club's PA system, interrupting the constant music for a moment. It was the match bell, playing fanfare for King's victory. The door on the far end of the fight cage slid open, and King waltzed out slowly to a volley of cheers and reaches. A ringside employee returned his shirt, jacket, and sunglasses. He threw the shirt into the crowd, slipped the jacket on, and slid the glasses over his eyes.

Posing for a few pictures, signing a few miscellaneous objects, the chest of an obese human man, and at least three breasts, King was sure to oblige the fans at least a little bit. Peeking over the shoulder of an Arconian fan, he saw three officials dragging the half-conscious body of the Bothan out of the cage. Poor bastard. That hairy son of a queen had a wicked left hand, though. King had to admit that much, considering how severely his jaw was still throbbing.

With a small, half-asked wave, King left the fight area and waded into the larger area of the club. With a slight limp, he weaved through patrons at their tables and slithered deftly through the spice-hazed patrons on the dancefloor. He found his way to his private booth. The rope was opened for him, and he staggered to the velvet seat and plopped down with a relieved sigh. He put a hand over his mouth, rubbing the corners of his jaw with his fingers and thumb.

A few taps on the holopad built into the table ordered the drink he desired. He reached in to retrieve a cigarra from his jacket. He seized it between his fingers, holding it up and to the side. One little push of willpower, and the force heated up to the tip, lighting it from seemingly thin air. "Mr. King," one of the guards at the entrance of the private booth accosted. "You have a visitor."

King looked over and exhaled, brow furrowed to acknowledge whoever was so bold...

 

[CETCOM]

Main NPC | The Commissioner
Location | The Thirsty Vornskr, Denon
Objective | Strike a deal with Mr.King

The Mysterious individual only known as the Commissioner awaited Mr.King. He was here on a top-secret mission entrusted to him by his superior whom he referred to as the "Chairman" in which involved seeking out potential allies , proxies and recruits for the Association. With a considerable force of intelligence agents at his disposal , the Commissioner had begun to seek out these individuals and eventually a notorious Shockboxer known as Salvor King had caught his attention.

Taking a look at what information he could get about the Shockboxer , the Commissioner soon came to see him as a potential proxy for the Association and a potential addition to a mercenary task force currently in the works. While he had a reputation for being aggressive and a reckless daredevil , the Commissioner wasn't concerned with that , after all he was a master at manipulation and intrigue and for someone like Mr.King it wouldn't be hard to even convince him to come at the services of the Association.

The Commissioner already had plans laid out on how to approach Salvor King , what type of deal to bring forward and exactly how to convince Mr.King to enter his services. In order to successfully recruit Salvor King , all the Commissioner had to do was to exploit his reckless personality and use it to his advantage. And so , standing outside of King's Private Booth the Commissioner signalled the Professional Shockboxer and greeted him. "Greetings , Mr.King and congrats on your recent victory. My name is Lawdgott Eris and i'd like to have a word with you if you have some time to spare.

 

[Salvor King]

King kicked his feet up onto the table. He plucked the cigarra from his teeth and exhaled carcinogenic smoke from between bared teeth. "Pass," he rebuked nonchalantly. Turning towards the stranger, his sunglasses fell down his nose slightly to regard him with unshielded eyes. "I don't do sponsors anymore," he said. King was semi-retired from sanctioned competition. He'd vacated the CISBC and ASBW titles after holding them for over two years. Now the only time he stepped in a ring was for some pay-per-view exhibition when he needed the money. So why bother with sponsorship deals?

King returned the cigarra to his mouth, seizing it with his bloody teeth. "So unless you've got something interesting-" he began, stopping himself to take an inhale from the rolled voice. "And movies aren't interesting, to be clear. I don't do movies," he quickly clarified. "So if either of those is the case, you should save yourself the time and ske-bop your way on out of here, partner." King gestured widely in the vague direction of the door. His legs crossed one over the other as he waited for what he expected to be the stranger's disappointed response.

CETCOM ​

 

[CETCOM]

"Pass, I don't do sponsors anymore, So unless you've got something interesting- And movies aren't interesting, to be clear. I don't do movies, So if either of those is the case, you should save yourself the time and ske-bop your way on out of here, partner."

Such a response was expected by the Commissioner who obviously knew of King's Semi-Retired Status. A Look at Mr.King only told the Commissioner that he expected him to be disappointed and leave. But off-course this was not the case. All it would take was to utter out two words "Money" and "Job" and Salvor would immediately be interested. Thus the Commissioner simply smiled and replied. "Well consider this your lucky day , Mr.King. I am not here to sponsor you nor seek you out for a movie. Instead i am here to offer you a job. One that includes two things , Fighting and alot of Money. So would you be interested to discuss about the offer , Mr.King?"

Salvor King ​

 

[Salvor King]

It wasn't about the money. Never was. Thrill, adrenaline, the buzz of a fight. That's what it was all about. Still, though, the stranger hit the right mark with his clarification of having a 'job' for him to do.

King turned to face the man more clearly. He brought one hand up to tilt his glasses further down to get a better look. His blue eyes glared, a stark contrast to the dark shades of the attire adorned around his body. His left eyebrow raised. Eyes scanned the individual up and down. He didn't look like a syndicate guy. "What, then? You government?"

CETCOM ​

 

[CETCOM]

So far , the meeting was proceeding as planned with the Commissioner getting the attention of Salvor King so that was a first. Eventually King turned around to scan the Commissioner eventually asking if he were some government agent. Of course this was expected given that the Commissioner always looked like some-sort of Bureaucrat in which would partially give people a hint at what his occupation was as a member of the Vosh Initiative. Eventually the Commissioner replied.

"If that isn't a problem with you then yes , in a certain sense i do work with a government agency though i'll only refer it as the "Agency"." Then the Commissioner paused for a bit and then resumed. "Me and my Associates within the Agency have been watching you , from fight to fight , victory after victory and given your records in Shockboxing we could use someone like you."

"While i did say i had a job for you , now that i think about it's more of a series of jobs though each of them will be seeing you confront a variety of dangerous opponents ranging from Government Operatives to Force-Sensitives. These missions are very risky but for a man of your talents i am sure the risk wouldn't be an issue to you hum?"

The Commissioner had gone on the Offensive with his words , eventually making his proposal hoping it could convince , Salvor King. Afterall the man was an Aggressive and Reckless Daredevil always enjoying to do dangerous things. So in the Commissioner's Mind why not bring up the fact that his Jobs were very risky. They were indeed dangerous and could potentially land King into Prison but these weren't facts to mention especially when you want to convince somewhat that it is in his interests to partake in this.

Remaining Firm and Patient , the Commissioner awaited a reply from the Shockboxer legend hoping to get the response he wanted to get. If his mission here was a success then it would come to greatly benefit the Commissioner and his associates allowing to move forward with their long delayed plans at last with the Shockboxer being nothing more but yet another addition to their "Collection" of "Special" Associates.

Salvor King ​