First Annual Underworld Ball (Open)

[Darth Abyss]

Spoiler

Katarr, The Blackout

Ages ago the Blackout had been build by the former inhabitants of Katarr, the miraluka, in a time before even faster than light travel became a common practice for them. Build as a drilling rig it had mined something from below the surface of the sea, which was now the dubbed the Black Sea for its lack of life and surprising amount of toxic waste for a dead world. What exactly was a question lost even to those with deep insight into the history of the galaxy. Back then a few thousands had lived and worked on the 49 levels of the oversized rig, and somehow the structure had defied time, war and even the eventual death of Katarr by the hands of Darth Nihilus.

Maybe that was the reason why the new people of Katarr, mostly refugees of the Free Cities of Malachor that had fled the influence of the resurgent empire on their homeworld, had decided to make it into something new. It was a symbol that nothing was ever truly gone, that neither death nor destruction could erase the traces left by them, that there was always something that remained despite the uncaring element of time.

Where once had been the main drill of the construct was now a wide and wild collection of selfmade elevators allowing the travel between the various levels. The lower you got the worse the varying establishments got, while the clubs and bars in the highest levels held up to the standards of not only the rich, but the filthy rich, the lowest levels where filled with "clubs" that put even the most run down places of Nar Shaddaa to shame. Below even them where the levels to broken to be used at all, at least as anything else than hideouts and homes for the homeless.

There was only one person on Katarr that could rent the first and the second level as a whole without getting as much as a weird look. Darth Abyss, formally Prophet of Malachor and now Prophet of Katarr had always been a mix of mythical bogyman, leader and dark guardian to the free and unchained that spend their live in the cities he gave rise to.

The event he was hosting had been named "The First annual Underworld Ball", but the word ball in the title was pretty much all it had in common with the fancy gatherings hosted by more official groups like the Alliance or the First Order. Level one and two were the only two levels fully interconnected without the need to use the elevators, as the both were owned by the same group which had already owned various clubs and bars through the original Free Cities.

Spoiler

In level one the guests would find the Catalyst. A mix of bar and club that stretched over the level that served the best drinks on the whole rig and was widely known to be to expensive and exclusive to be afforded by mere mortals. At least that was what their flyer said. The less impressive truth was that the Catalyst was like any other mix of club and bar in the galaxy, only that the stripers looked slightly better and that the same drinks had been doubled in their price. Yet as drinks were all paid by decree of the Prophet, the Catalyst had for once opened its doors to anyone.

Spoiler

In the second level the Wildcard was placed. Someone had ripped out all walls that weren't needed to keep the whole rig from falling apart and made the level into one large dancefloor, with music so loud that more than one person left the Wildcard with permanent damage to their hearing. Also the bar there sold a wide collection of drugs additionally to their drinks which where cheaper put otherwise identical to those above.

The first guests had already arrived, and while the rig itself was large, the Underworld was far, far larger. It took not even an hour for the first man to be shoot, and it took even shorter for the first man to drunkenly stumble into his death by missing an elevator. Drug dealers had begun to creep through the crowds, and men and women in cloths that left little room for fantasies tried to get people into their "private quarters".

Suddenly the music in both the Catalyst and the Wildcard fell silent, and after a short moment of confusion the already arrived guests followed. Through the speakers a voice could be heard instead of music, and it was the twisted sound of the Prophet speaking.

"Welcome my friends. Thank you all for coming. I know no one is hear to listen to me give a speech, so without further ado I hereby declare the first annual Underworld ball open. Also I pay for all your drinks, which means I expect you all to clap now."

Then followed the Prophets twisted laugh, which was cut short by the music being turned on again. While Abyss made his way to a corner of the Catalyst, the time for the underworld to go wild had come.

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbtZWUX2XKY

OOC

Spoiler

tagging anyone who wrote in the LFG thread as well as any other improtant underworld people I know lol: [member="Harly Quyn"] [member="Savitor Draay"] [member="Marcus Lok"] @Ne'tra Aaray [member="Tek Sidereal"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Miss Blonde"]

Also this is open to pretty much anybody, just don't destroy the place or bring an army or anything please.

Yo.

 

[Thraxis]

An underworld ball. How delightful. Thraxis cheered in his head. He was rather excited. He couldn't remember the last ball he went too, at least. The last one where he might have gotten an inkling of Attention now that Flannigan had departed. He swung in a pendulous motion in his ceiling chair, back and forth he went as he looked around the corner of his chair, looking for the maid who helps keep the place clean. "Melody? You here?" He inquired swinging back. He heard the shuffling off papers at his feet before some poor imitation of a voice rung through. It was a sock puppet, dressed to look horrible as he responded to himself in his depressive loneliness. "Ola senior? How may I help you today?" If the accent was to be summed up in a few words, it would be poor, Mexican and highly racist. "Ah, Melody. I need you to tell me, what is my schedule like for the near future?" He inquired, a long drawn out pause as his hand shuffled through papers, pulling out a Calander that simply had scrawled on the middle. Completely free. Melody strolled through the pages, every page the same thing, except one single solitary day. A funeral in honour of a dear friend. But other than that, he was completely free. "No, sir. Looks like you are free the rest of the week senior." She replied as he snapped his fingers, tossing the sock puppet aside as he jumped from his swinging seat. "Then off too... Let us assume Tatooine!" He chuckled as he took the first small ship he could, a group of Gammoreans, Weequay and Twi'leks all aboard for the party of their life.

A few hours passed as Thraxis had pulled out a road map, looking it over as they hovered above Tatooine. "Hmmm... The map says the party should be right here..." He groaned as he looked down below them, the seas of sand below them as an inquisitive Twi'lek male tapped his shoulder.

"May I have a quick look, sir?" He sheepishly inquired, Thraxis relieving the map as he quickly took a few seconds glance. "Um. Sir. This is a map for Katarr." He responded dryly, a rather disillusioned look swept across the ship as Thraxis blushed, thankfully clad in his Phrik armour, helping to alleviate the fact since no one could see his burnt cheeks mar pink from embarrassment. He let tension brew for a few seconds, letting it set in before letting out a chuckle.

"Aha... Really? Wrong planet? Geez gonna have to put that one in the books." With his own alleviation taken to bolster the morale of the crew a jovial cheer grew through the ship before moving up to the cockpit. "Hey, Gwon-Duc, ya will never guess. The party, meant for Katarr." The Weequay responded with a long drawn out sigh, his head pressed against the wheel of the ship as it let loose a jazzy tune. He never knew why he paid the extra money to install sirens on the thing, not like anyone could hear them in space, but it was money well spent to alleviate stress from situations like this and undo any damper that might occur. He sat down in the seat, now knowing where to go the stars were dragged seemingly forever as the Pack Master entered Hyperspace, a short trip though one that stretched on for what felt like an eternity as the crew kept making jabs at him. IF they got it out of their systems he might not have to deal with public embarrassment at the party.

They hovered above the Rig, far above the cloud lines as the small party looked between each other, a small machine stuck in Thraxis hands as he looked between the lot. The Wind trailed and bashed behind them, the ramp descending down as far as it could as they held on for dear life to the side of the ship. "Right! So as soon as we land on top of it yeah, I will activate the smog machine and were all going to make a bombastic entrance yeah. Any questions?" He yelled, his voice booming as hard as it could but the wind edging him out as a Gammorean raised his hand.

"Um, don't mean to put a damper on things... But why do we need to do this?" The Gammorean inquired, the rest of the group nodding in unison as Thraxis was left baffled. He rather quite liked his entrances and all of a sudden this lot were playing party poopers.

"Well... I mean... It does look fairly cool when we do it though..." Thraxis trailed off, there really was no other reason than to sate his own appetite as he looked at the Gammorean. A little discouraged by his remark. Great. I chose the party poopers. Knew I should have just brought Dale. Guy is always up for wacky schemes. He thought to himself before waving it off. The Gammorean was about to continue before Thraxis cut him off. "No... No it was a stupid Idea. We will..." He let loose a long disturbed sigh as he walked past the group. "We will just walk in." He continued as he walked to the cockpit. "Hey, just bring her down. Land us close to the entrance." A quizzical look ran over the Weequays face as he was about to question his decision before having a finger planted against his lips. "I know. It's disappointing." He sighed as he walked back down the ramp, watching as the clouds ascended high above them, and slowly it came into view, the buzzing noise and echoing choir of noise not too far below them. The group slowly walked out, Thraxis tossing his parachute inside and instead adorning the closest thing he had to nice clothing, a small polka dot pink bow tie and a rather shady Trenchcoat he wore in his early days, back when he was but a mere Jackal.

He heard the announcement from outside,
"Welcome my friends. Thank you all for coming. I know no one is here to listen to me give a speech, so without further ado, I hereby declare the first annual Underworld ball open. Also, I pay for all your drinks, which means I expect you all to clap now."
"Oh, crap were late!" He screamed, pushing and driving his way through the lineup with his combination of Gammoreans, Weequay and Twi'leks behind him, a trail fo destruction and violence behind him combined with winges and moans as a wild look grew across their faces, "Oh crap, oh crap oh crap oh crap!" They screamed as a Bouncer blocked their path, a hand raised as he let loose an inquiry, only to be met with a fairly heavy bag of Credits. "BY JOVE THERE IS NO TIME FOR THESE SEMANTICS MAN CAN'T YOU SEE ME AND THE BOYS ARE LATE!" He screamed, jumping onto the man's chest with a frantic fervour, his hands clutched around his collar as his eyes grew wide, serving as a distraction as the rest stormed in. He pounced from his collar, the man's hand holding onto his arm as he darted off, pulling Thraxis back as he fell to the floor. "Thraxis damn it! Now let me go!" He scratched and clawed as he looked over his papers, a pen tapping against the paper before letting him go through. He smashed through the front gate, arms closed and then extended as he got into the party, head turning back and forth. The rest had gotten in fairly well, the Twi'leks busy dancing with the ladies, the Gammoreans and Weequay busy descending to the lower floors. They weren't exactly an attractive lot and found that fish wife was more there speed. "Where the hell is the booze!" He turned back and forth before spotting the nearest bartender, storming and clawing his way through as a single sultry maiden got in his way.

"Well, hello there big-" Thraxis brushed the sultry maiden out of his way with a rather aggressive push, he was too busy going to where he felt most comfortable. The bar. He made a beeline, people moving out of the Mass of Blackness way since he knocked down one of the tens with such little care. His hands planted with a thud against the bar as he snapped his fingers, the barkeep weary eyed as he walked over. His lips parted before being closed by the pressing of a finger.

"Get me. Everything." He responded rather quickly, not a single drop of sarcasm lacing his words, very similar to the zero booze that laced them as well. The barkeep took a step back before feeling his collar pressed on by cold armour. "Now. Maybe you didn't hear me. I don't want an arbitrary number. I don't want half of all you got. I got the credits and I want. And... And I really can't stretch this enough." He paused as he pulled out from his trench coat a rather large surplus of money, "I want everything. If you screw me. Well. You won't be screwing anyone else." He replied as he took a visible look towards his genitalia before letting go, taking his seat on a barstool as he looked around. "He better not screw me."
[member="Darth Abyss"]