Pierce
Jedi Killer
Last Night
The silhouette of a man hunched down, illuminated by moonlight in the dark rainy night, Pierce was hunched above a jedi as he clamoured for life, squeezing his neck with all his might before the jedi stopped squirming. As the jedi went limp, Pierce reached his right hand into the front pocket of his tactical vest, he slid out a small stick with a light on it and pressed the button on it's back. He pulled open the lid of the Jedi's eye with one hand, and with the other pushed the button and aimed. The back of the small device let out a flourecent green glow, giving Pierce all the information that he needed. He pulled the lightsaber from the belt of the dead jedi and placed it back on his.
"Damned Fool, I could have taken you in warm." Pierce shook his head and slipped the small device back into one of his pouches with his free hand. As soon as both hands were free, he wrapped his arms around the dead Jedi and lifted him up. "You almost weren't worth the fight."
Now
Pierce sat silently in the dark corner of the cantina away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the drinking patrons. He was looking down, with reflection of a flame shining in his midnight visor. He shifted, moving his head forwards as his right hand let down the little tourch and he grabbed the little scapple, etching a single talley into armor from his forearm. He quickly pulled away as soon as the mark was left and grabbed the tools with his thick leather glove, and shove them into their respective pouches. After putting the tools away, Pierce grabbed the hot piece of beskar and snapped it back onto place on his arm. He quickly tightened the piece before leaning back and resting his back against the grimy wall of this depressing little cantina.
"Can I help you sir?"
Pierce lifted his head and glared at the scrawny young man in rags that stood before him. Without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of credits. He reached out his hand and gave them to the young man. Subtly, Pierce nodded his head in the direction of the bar.
"Of course sir, I'll be right back."
Pierce looked out at this little cantina as the man walked away. It was too calm for his taste, and he had stuck around too long. He needed to find some work, or move on once again. Either way, he couldn't risk getting too comforatble here.
The silhouette of a man hunched down, illuminated by moonlight in the dark rainy night, Pierce was hunched above a jedi as he clamoured for life, squeezing his neck with all his might before the jedi stopped squirming. As the jedi went limp, Pierce reached his right hand into the front pocket of his tactical vest, he slid out a small stick with a light on it and pressed the button on it's back. He pulled open the lid of the Jedi's eye with one hand, and with the other pushed the button and aimed. The back of the small device let out a flourecent green glow, giving Pierce all the information that he needed. He pulled the lightsaber from the belt of the dead jedi and placed it back on his.
"Damned Fool, I could have taken you in warm." Pierce shook his head and slipped the small device back into one of his pouches with his free hand. As soon as both hands were free, he wrapped his arms around the dead Jedi and lifted him up. "You almost weren't worth the fight."
Now
Pierce sat silently in the dark corner of the cantina away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the drinking patrons. He was looking down, with reflection of a flame shining in his midnight visor. He shifted, moving his head forwards as his right hand let down the little tourch and he grabbed the little scapple, etching a single talley into armor from his forearm. He quickly pulled away as soon as the mark was left and grabbed the tools with his thick leather glove, and shove them into their respective pouches. After putting the tools away, Pierce grabbed the hot piece of beskar and snapped it back onto place on his arm. He quickly tightened the piece before leaning back and resting his back against the grimy wall of this depressing little cantina.
"Can I help you sir?"
Pierce lifted his head and glared at the scrawny young man in rags that stood before him. Without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of credits. He reached out his hand and gave them to the young man. Subtly, Pierce nodded his head in the direction of the bar.
"Of course sir, I'll be right back."
Pierce looked out at this little cantina as the man walked away. It was too calm for his taste, and he had stuck around too long. He needed to find some work, or move on once again. Either way, he couldn't risk getting too comforatble here.