Public GUTTER FIST

[Tansu Treicolt]

​

Ring 1's bout concluded with the human tossed out of the ring, nearly unconscious, and the mirialian lifting their arms over their head for an applause. Tansu felt the buzz in her pocket, indicating the transactions were queueing up.

Ring 1 would be open now.
Ring 2 shone bright red: Occupied by an Ithorian and the man that had demanded someone of the creed.
Ring 3 remained untouched (it was rumoured to be deeply unlucky).


"Tricks?" Tansu pretended not to know what he was talking about when she fished out her data pad and quickly started typing. An invitation that went out to all in the building ( Skeevi Merrill | Kesh Hevro | Jonath Kago | Morrow | Talsin Lota ), accredited to geo-based beacons BD insisted the girls implement if they were going to maximize their intake: 1000 credits on the next blow being a headbutt. 200 on a knee to the groin. 700 on the eventual Ithorian bellow. Who's feelin' bold? Click HEADBUTT, KNEE or BELLOW to deposit your bet. Click X to ignore.

Her eyes floated across the room, seeking out her sister. A familiar face hovered near her and she smiled their direction, giving a quick wave, and then pulling it back when she saw the scowling black-haired fella.

Then, struck by boldness only a Tricot could feel, she flashed a giant grin in Talsin's direction.

"Y'know," Tansu chewed on her cheek, as if chewing the idea itself. Once she committed fully, she was all purr and coy: "We could spend the night holdin' hands or throwin' em. That's probably the best way to see how this whole thing goes down insteada you teasin' me."

____________________________________________________________
IMMEDIATE: Talsin Lota
PROXIMITY: Jonath Kago | Morrow | Jerec Asyr | Rel Ahn-Dross | Kesh Hevro | Skeevi Merrill | Talin Treicolt
____________________________________________________________
​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Rel Ahn-Dross succeeded in dislocating Jerec's good left arm and was 100% certain to regret it.

Jerec roared in uncontrolled blind pain. Ithorians had four throats and even your average Ithorian's bellow was uncomfortable for a humanoid at normal range. Jerec was, in his way, a master of the Force. He liked to leave that out of his life but instinct was instinct. Stimulus, response, boom.

All that to say, the point-blank roar ripped the sides off Ring 2.

With distance to work with, Jerec used his untrustworthy right arm — something was strained or sprained in there — and started trying to get up.

 

[Ren]

Spectators lined every edge of the platform or leaned from scaffold walkways above, hurling credits and curses like they were part of the bout. Noise blurred into a single living thing. A pulse of excitement and thrill.

A diminutive figure slipped through the crowd, so short and sleight that hardly any paid attention to the Amaran in the brown robes. Ren himself just focused on not getting smushed under foot as the crowd jostled for the best view of the fighting ring.

He slipped out from a particular crush and found himself standing by a pair of blonde humans. They were saying something. He tuned his hearing with the Force, shut out the crowd.

Betting.

So the local police were right, there was an underground fight club.

It seemed fairly harmles-

A fighting Ithorian’s roar ripped up one of the rings. Ren clapped paws over his ears and his whiskers twitched.

Maybe not so harmless. Ears ringing, disoriented, he turned to slink back through the crowd and bumped right into Tansu Treicolt .

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

---

Instantly he'd release the hold.

The Boneshaking scream may have ripped the sides off the ring but it did more to him.

Like a wave of concussion force it pushed him away, rolling over him like a tidal wave. It burst his eardrum and all of the blood vessels on the side of his face closest to Jerec Asyr , his bones shook deep in his body down to their core.

Once the wave had washed over him, dying down shortly thereafter he lay of his chest. Stunned but not unconscious. He stirred.

A Hand reached out, grasping at the hard floor of the ring. He lay there, moving slowly. Grasping at the air, at the floor of the ring.

Looking up, half his face reddened from a million 'popped' vessels and blood leaking from his nose, his eye was bloodshot.

Vision blurred, images slowly started coming back into focus as the tinnitus ringing in his head died down; he saw the Ithorian trying to rise back onto his feet.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

That double-fist strike to the head, and all the assorted headshots before and after, took their toll. Jerec had wrenched something in his un-dislocated arm when he fell, and it betrayed him as much as his skull did now.

He kept pushing it, got up, heaved himself to standing, got a blurry look at the crowd, and promptly fell on his face.

He had a vague sense of being dragged from the ruins of Ring 2 by scantily clad Toydarian attendants. Rel Ahn-Dross was proclaimed the winner.

 

[The Faceless]

Meldes Tressol

The Empire that rose against the crimson blade was defunct, but its roots still persisted notably in the radical hardliners of COMPNOR. They did not desist, instead they adapated in tactics and evolved tpo what they are today. What they lacked in a conventional form of government they compensated in unconventional methods. Out of sight, out of mind; agents infiltrated foreign governments and militaries, and any organization to influence and be a parasite from within.

Even the criminal underworlds were embedded of these New Imperial fanatics.

Though they were spread out, they remained organized and still obeyed a structure of hierarchy. Agent Meldes was one of many leaves of the grand tree that composed of these individuals. Shrouded in dark clothing that gave him the illusion of being a mercenary. He observed to see if they could get return on investment here on Denon being that he was the sector chief in this region. Seeing what partners they can collude with or what competition needed to be eliminated.

The agent concluded this place could use a new change of ownership, believing he could make more of a profit than the two cowgirls at the helm. He was not alone, however, as he had subordinates in proximity to the Drop.

"Time to make a scene. Blasters at the ready," he nodded at a Jordi Massad , a loose ally. “In and out, shouldn’t take longer than two minutes tops.”

Talin Treicolt | Tansu Treicolt | Talsin Lota | Jerec Asyr | Rel Ahn-Dross | Kesh Hevro | Skeevi Merrill | Ren | Morrow | Jordi Massad​

 

[Jordi Massad]

The Old Man of the Mountain
Chosen Mask: Face of the Emir

Tags
The Faceless Talin Treicolt Tansu Treicolt Talsin Lota Jerec Asyr
Rel Ahn-Dross Kesh Hevro Skeevi Merrill Ren Morrow
OBLIGATIONS OF YESTERYEAR
1

'All well-and-good.... That is, if thats what you're here for. But here's the thing-'
​

Massad was aging, but it seemed that the years had seemingly blended together into a long stretch of retirement from duty, choosing to watch the Galaxy's happenings since he scattered COMPNOR's secret archives to the winds, going on to form his own secret order after receiving the organisation's last-known coded order. Jordi would forge from peers and subordinates alike for this collective, known only to outsiders as,"The Mountain", a manifestation of the Brotherhood's soul-connection to that one place to where they always return, in life and in death.

Alas, thinking himself free from obligation after obeying the second (and last) ever recorded,"Tarkin Has Fallen", transmission, it would only give the great Scimitar reason to believe he was no longer obligated to the Galaxy beyond, thus allowed himself the hubris that would one day come back to bite him, though deep down, Jordi always knew obligation's gravitational pull would come to snatch him back from the Mountain. The significance of being found by the Faceless, especially in noting such relevance to the arts of the Brotherhood, was certainly not lost on the Old Man, though he was quickly growing to appreciate the purpose this new contemporary had reinvigorated.

'As your Galactic expression goes,"Word to the wise", yes?'

Thinking then on means to make the operation worth their while, and to an extreme that could clear the way for a slew of future operations just like it, Jordi expressed wisdom in calmly proferring,'It would be better to broaden operational-flexibility here, and all you would need to achieve it today; lethality for henchmen, tranq-darts and cable-ties for the targets.... I have a hunch, a feeling in my gut that the little birds could sing for us, albeit - under the right pressure.', playing well into the surface-level advisory role the Faceless had granted him. Massad had always erred away from matters of ego, pride and greed, remembered well for opening doors to ambition by purist, meritocratic means instead, and this one occasion would be no exception.

 

[Morrow]

_____________________________________________________
​

“You wouldn’t wanna call it quits too early now, would ya? When you’re on a roll?”​

Morrow scoffed dismissively. "That doesn't work on me." The bookie may have been beguiling to the other bettors, but she wouldn't weasel him out of his credits. She might as well have been an eyesore, given that Morrow was as dubious as she was gorgeous; it wasn't doing her any favors.

Whatever that off feeling was, Morrow took it as his cue to abandon any further betting. It was far from a loss, the night having been productive enough to score him a sum of credits larger than he'd ever held at one time. Morrow didn't believe in luck, though he couldn't chalk his winnings up to being some fighting expert, either. Regardless of why he was winning, eventually those blondes would take his money. Better to quit before they had their way.

Wading through spectators, Morrow was hardly aware of the new brawl that had started behind him. As he pushed deeper into the crowd of onlookers, his attention instead gradually moved toward a sinking feeling in his stomach. He slowed down, then halted with visible confusion overtaking his previously dour countenance. He noticed a man in front of him. Immediately, with eye contact, the feeling intensified sharply, becoming a thought-crushing sense of urgency. A distant premonition pulled Morrow's eyes down to the man's hands. That's when he noticed the blaster.

Morrow shot first.

It happened so quickly, he hardly realized what he was doing. Something had come over him, drawn his blaster faster than he'd even known himself capable. Two shots brought the man down, the screams from the muzzle cutting through the din of the crowd to conjure fear and panic. It would get worse, as those embedded in the crowd with the same intentions as the now deceased interloper would make themselves known, blasters at the ready.

_____________________________________________________

The Faceless | Jordi Massad ok you die or?

Talin Treicolt | Tansu Treicolt | Talsin Lota
Jonath Kago Rel Ahn-Dross | Kesh Hevro | Ren | Jerec Asyr | Skeevi Merrill

tl;dr compnor is here and i started blasting​

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

---

His Match was over yet he still laid prone in the ring.

The Projector Tape, what was left of it has switched to red signifying the end of the match as well. He might have been declared the winner but Jerec Asyr was formidable. The strength of his vocals had proven as much though the brawl was to be a largely hand to hand affair.

It mattered not.

On his stomach, still stirring but moving slowly Ren had begun to regain his senses.

He heard blasterfire, something for his senses to hone in on. He still remained largely motionless, there were small movements like his eyes peering upwards and ahead as he attempted to see what was happening. Sometimes it was better to play the 'duck' as it were.

Anger burned hot in his chest, the pain from injuries inflicted began to subside making him feel numb in its wake as the force invigorated his limbs.

 

[Talsin Lota]

Proximity tag: Tansu Treicolt | Ren
In the room: Rel Ahn-Dross Morrow Talin Treicolt Jonath Kago Kesh Hevro Jerec Asyr
Enemies?: The Faceless | Jordi Massad

"Throwing hands? You challenging me to a duel, sunshine?" A soft laugh there as he glanced towards the fighting pits again. His expression turned thoughtful however. It was a while since they had one of their training fights. It could be fun to try and see what- everything slowed down. From several heartbeats to a single breath as he shifted towards the entrance.

A blaster rang out and he already put his body between the danger he was feeling and Tansu.

Chaos erupted right after that. It was a 'no gun' room, there were not supposed to be any weapons here. Someone had screwed up majorly at the entrance and still allowed a blaster through.

"Please tell me you didn't let the rule apply to you and you got a weapon on you." He hissed over his shoulder to Tansu as he tried to localize exactly where the gunfire was coming from. Didn't it come from where he had last seen Talin? "Have you seen Talin, she okay?" Talsin knew she was very closely linked to her sister.

Hopefully she was okay because trying to carve through her while this mass of bodies was starting to coil in panic would be no good.

 

[Tansu Treicolt]

​

Loud, low and wide, the whole atmosphere clenched from an otherworldly noise that shamed even the shouts of the crowds. Worse than an echo, it was a sound that rattled her bones, teeth, and gut. Tansu's vision doubled for half a second and she staggered, instinctively reaching for Talsin's arm.

"Woah—" dribbled out, she felt stunned and stupid. Ears ringing, jacket flaring from the shockwave, she blinked hard against the sudden vertigo and went to take another step forward to investigate Ring 2, when she stepped on —

"Oh no!" Hands to mouth. "Was that your little tail?" She dropped to her knees, fretting about the furry creature that knocked into her shins. "I'm so sorry fella, are you okay? Where's your master..." was this fox in a ROBE?

Then another loud noise. This one she understood. Talsin stepped in front of her, and she instinctively scooped up the animal the way she would have with Amos the cat.

"I—" she felt nothing alarming through The Force that would insinuate that Talin was under threat. Their bond didn't ache. Just flinched with mutual surprise. "She's okay."

At the same time, she felt the buzzing of her data pad. With the conclusion of Ring 2s fight, all betters were earning their deposits. She'd have to find the winner and cash them out too for their participation and victory profit.

"Whoever that was, they gotta go."

She closed her eyes, concentrating hard, to see if she could detect anything visual through her sister's line of sight. Find them. She thought, hard, and let the appeal bleed beyond her sister's trajectory to potentially influence a few in the crowd. Anyone with impressionable minds.

The rule had to be enforced to keep The Drop safe. Tansu knew it deep in her gut. It was like that — an honour among thieves sorta approach — the integrity of the establishment relied on everyone understanding and respecting the rules.

"Me? Sure I do. A Jedi's never without their glow rod remember? We make the rules so we can break 'em." She grinned cockily and bounced to her tippy toes to see over the crowds of people that were moving and vibrating with the intent to leave. Everyone looked agitated. Already distressed from the aftershock of the Ithorian bellow, and then amplified by the sudden violence and death.

"Ah Feth." She seethed, pushing her tongue against the back of her teeth. "We gotta keep these people safe. Think happy, safe thoughts." If only she had the power to persuade with a single idea. But her Force inclination didn't work at a crowd-level scale. All she could do was project a type of calm and hope it worked.

"Here, C'mon." She tugged Talsin's sleeve and pointed up to the gangway. They'd need a better view for crowd control.

____________________________________________________________
PROXIMITY: Talsin Lota | Ren
TARGET: Morrow
STAY LOW, FOLKS: Talin Treicolt | Rel Ahn-Dross | Jerec Asyr | Kesh Hevro | Skeevi Merrill | Jonath Kago
UNKNOWN ANTAGONISTS: Jordi Massad | The Faceless
____________________________________________________________
​

 

[The Faceless]

“Massad,” Meldes began, a heavy sigh escaped from his mouth. “I brought you here to sling down these…degenerates,” odd choice of words; kettle calling the pot black. At least they had their Imperial decorum to separate themselves from the scum. “We’ll talk about strategy later. Let’s just clean up house and-“

The familiar ring of blaster fire could be heard. He had yet to give the order to open fire.

“Who the hell-“ he started angrily in the private comms between him and his fellow operatives, and was cut off by one of his men.

“Lontik got shot!”

His hesitated for a moment, looking for the downed Imperial. The assailant could not be seen throughout the crowd as people began to scatter from where the killing took place. It could be anyone and they were the target; drastic measures called for drastic solutions.

“Light ‘em up!”

Sub machine blasters pulled out and released a salvo onto the crowd, indifferent of whatever collateral damage was inflicted.

Tansu Treicolt | Talin Treicolt | Talsin Lota | Morrow | Kesh Hevro | Rel Ahn-Dross | Jerec Asyr | Skeevi Merrill | Ren​

 

[Talin Treicolt]

blank checks and cannonballers
objective: blastin’
direct: Jonath Kago | Morrow | adjacent: Tansu Treicolt | Talsin Lota | Ren | Rel Ahn-Dross | Jordi Massad
_____________________________________________________​

Talin had felt the same unease her previous customer had. Without thought, she swiped their lockbox from the surface and dropped it on the floor. The other hand reached for Jon, hook in’ him by collar and pulling her around the counter. A booted foot kicked at the table, knocking it down. Then shots rang. First one, then a chorus rising up in response.

“What the-?”

Talin poked her head above their cover, and she decided the plasma that scorched her hair was very pointedly meant for her. Wide eyed, she withdrew, pulling her own pair of blasters from beneath the sling her oversized flannel hid.

Find them.

You think this is goin’ unanswered? Why I oughta…

Talin let the thought trail, instead a string of ever-cheerful flashes invoking her sister’s attention as to how exactly she’d handle whoever had the nerve to step on their ring.

Talin passed one of the pistols to Jon, assuming his weapons had been held. Well, given their circumstances, maybe that wasn’t an assumption she should have made. Man, did they needed new bouncers. Shoulda known better than to trust a corellian.

“What a time for a visit. Y’know how to use it?”

Talin produced a final object from beneath her clothes - silver glinted off the hilt of her saber. An uproar had surged from their crowds - panicked footsteps on the drop’s walk, fightin’ for exits. Screams of the fearful and wounded alike bounced off the surrounding pylons.

Chancing another look, the girl peeked over their barrier again. No shots this time. Instead, fire focused upon a turned bar table, where Morrow crouched, blaster drawn.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Talin scoffed. “Come on then.” She urged Jon.

With a cerulean flash, the saber ignited as she rose, instinctually moving it in front of her torso to guard their advance. The last few feet, she rolled, joining their lucky winner’s side.

“What did you do?” She demanded, trading saber for a cocked barrel.

 

[Ren]

"I'm so sorry fella, are you okay? Where's your master..." was this fox in a ROBE?

"What?" he squeaked.

How did she know he was a Jedi? His cover was blown that quickly? No, wait. His eyes narrowed. She... she thought he was some sort of pet.

"I'm ok," he sighed, tugging at his robes to straighten them.

Then a lot of things happened at once in quick succession. By the time Ren figured it out, all he knew was that half the people around him had lightsabers out and the other half seemed to be shooting into the crowd, or at people in the crowd.

The blonde-furred human he bumped into had mentioned she was a Jedi, in which case quite the unorthodox one, but he put her squarely into the "not shooting civilians" category, as others shot into civilians.

He pulled out his own shoto and the blade came to life with a snap-hiss.

People started dying. He felt their deaths in the Force. Each violent passing another rip at his heart. At his soul.

"No!" he cried, and leaped toward the sound of the shooting, blade moving rapidly not to kill, but to deflect bolts and slugs away from the innocents.

To defend.

Tansu Treicolt | Talin Treicolt | The Faceless | Jonath Kago

 

[Jonath Kago]

It was bound to happen, it just happen to be this little corner out of every other illicit establishment. Rivaling gangs perhaps? Or maybe someone took offense to a funny look. Whatever the reason was it caused a domino effect of more blasters being drawn and fired upon the crowd. Jon was just glad to have a friend (of sorts) throughout all this violence.

First time being in a situation like this, but he didn’t feel fear at all. As if this environment was familiar to him…too familiar. Now if only he had a-

“What a time for a visit. Y’know how to use it?”

Luck of the draw with a pistol handed to him. “Aren’t you my lucky spade,” his way of thanking the blonde and giving a quick look to his lent weapon’s design. Nothing complicated; however, not as impressive with the lightsaber hilt in her hands.

Well, what does she not have underneath that flannel?

A couple of thermal detonators wouldn’t have hurt to have, but alas not one was conjured up.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Talin scoffed. “Come on then.”

He didn’t fall behind when his Talin jumped out of cover to reposition in another area. She acted as a shield with the lightsaber deflecting any shots meant for them while Jon traced the sources of enemy fire and exchanged shots with deadly precision. It was all on instinct, second nature to him without realizing it as he fell one of the gunslingers before retreating behind the table with Talin and Morrow . Words were exchanged between the two while Jon honed in to locate the thugs pinning them down and returning the favor.

It was a bloody massacre with innocent patrons maimed or killed between the crossfires along with the perpetrators of this terrible incident.

“Hey! We can’t stay here for much longer,” looking at the two, but more so at Talin as he presumed she knew every corner of the Drop. “We gotta keep moving for the exit. It’s our best shot at staying alive,” staying would only draw more attention on their position and with Talin’s lightsaber it would only worsen their situation.

Again he popped up and fired a trio of bolts at an Imperial managing to injure the operative’s hip.

Talin Treicolt | Tansu Treicolt | Ren | Morrow | Talsin Lota | Rel Ahn-Dross | Jordi Massad​

 

[Jordi Massad]

The Old Man of the Mountain
Chosen Mask: Face of the Emir

Tags
The Faceless Talin Treicolt Tansu Treicolt Talsin Lota Jerec Asyr
Rel Ahn-Dross Kesh Hevro Skeevi Merrill Ren Morrow
OBLIGATIONS OF YESTERYEAR
2

'Hahahaha! Blood it is then!'
​

Drawing an ornate, aesthetic option from the hip, switching into burst-fire, Jordi was quick to notice how easily he remembered his old gunfighting preferences, feeling a gleeful sense of nostalgia as the first few bursts were sent downrange at their assailants. Yet despite the rusty diminishment of his fastest reflexes, there was no trouble keeping up with the others as everyone popped back and forth from cover, a reinvigoration of exertion as much as purpose, giving life despite the aches in the knees, the hamstrings and the ankles most of all.

'My friend, this is quite the fine mess! I mean no offence!'

Blaster trails of differing colours would assail the positions of beligerents on both sides of the struggle, tearing up benches, drink stalls and jutting duracrete support-columns, casting particles of the sudden gunfight arena whilst heads peeked over or around their environmental cover. However, pretty though the mayhem had appeared in the eyes of the Kandaran, time would slip by quickly enough to counter the awestruct excitement, but with the confusion of seeing a number of developments unfold before his very eyes. Firstly, in seeing what appeared to be a fox, one of which the Old Man assumed was native to his home province, secondly, in seeing it standing bipedal with robes on, and lastly, bearing witness as it called on (and wielded) a Jedi lightsabre with purpose.

​

'What?!'

Defending well from incoming shots, not only itself but also the others, the fox was darting back and forth with kyber and Force shielding, presenting the Faceless' operators with quite the challenge in the process. Even against burst and automatic firing-patterns, Jordi could see that nothing was getting through this parrying wall of extreme mobility, even remarking,'Not ever, in all my time among our clandestine peers, have I encountered a dull moment.... But this presents us with a problem in the here-and-now, does it not?', with a sidelong, curious glance at his colleague.

 

[Morrow]

_____________________________________________________
​

Morrow's body twisted quickly, leaning evasively to the side just before blaster fire meant for his chest escaped from the muzzle of an attacker's gun. His head swiveled, following the deadly streak of crimson as it whizzed past, nearly missing and fatally striking a panicked patron behind him. Wide-eyed, his gaze snapped back to the danger ahead of him, awestruck by his own stunt. Urgency nudged him again, though this time his reaction came from a surge of coherent volition. He dove behind a table overturned in the chaos, barely dodging certain death once again as a shower of blaster fire arrived in his wake.

“What did you do?”

A tense scowl formed over Morrow's features as the bookie and the would-be fighter joined him, eyes double-taking between the blonde and the lightsaber she brandished. "They're trying to kill us all, in case you didn't notice!" he shouted indignantly.

Movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention; someone had circled to flank them. A bolt blared from the operative's gun before Morrow could react. It slammed into the edge of the table, blowing off a chunk of metal, sending tiny bits of hot shrapnel into Morrow's flinching neck. In return, he snapped two shots in the flanker's direction, the impact lifting the assailant a few inches off his feet before crumpling to the ground. He rubbed a hand over the searing sensation in the back of his neck, returning it in front of his face to check for blood.

“We gotta keep moving for the exit. It’s our best shot at staying alive.”

Dismissing the speckling of red on his fingers, he wiped it across his leg. "Come on, why don't you use that thing, bookie!?" He urgently indicated the lightsaber with the barrel of his blaster. "Unless you planned to sit here until you get shot!?"

Yet again, movement grabbed his attention. A meek form inched across the floor. It was the operative who had flanked them before, still alive and dragging themselves toward their dropped weapon. In a display of complete overkill, Morrow fired his blaster at him repeatedly, punching at least half a dozen new holes until his death was certain.

"What are you waiting for!?"

_____________________________________________________

Talin Treicolt | Jonath Kago
Tansu Treicolt | Talsin Lota | Ren | Jordi Massad | The Faceless | Rel Ahn-Dross
Skeevi Merrill | Kesh Hevro | Jerec Asyr ​

 

[Talsin Lota]

Tansu asked him to keep the crowd at peace. It would be easier to evacuate them if they weren't running around like nuna's without heads, it made total sense to him. He nodded and closed his eyes, his hand lightly on her wrist. Trusting her to keep him safe while he tried to stretch his mind out from his body and around them.

It was easy at first.

While the organic mind was prone to chaos and panic, he was used to projecting peace and calm now. It wasn't his first rodeo, so to speak. So the crowd began to calm down, began to evacuate... but all of that was thrown out of the window once the first civilians started dropping.

He felt each one like a knife carving through his mind.

He swayed, leaning into Tansu as he hissed out in pain. "I- I can't, Tan." Eyes flickering open and there was panic not his own in them for a moment, before Talsin firmly closed the door between himself and the crowd. "There are people dying, we need to take control of the situation. Fight your way to Talin, she might need your help."

Talsin knew how much she cared for her sister and how she was already feeling a distance between them.

"I am going after whoever started this."

There was a presence he could feel keenly.

Talsin didn't yet know it, but it was coming from Jordi Massad and The Faceless . Malice, hunger, violence. He unclipped his own lightsaber and began to move towards them. Trying not to worry about Tansu too much, but this wasn't the first time they had to work independently. But usually it was on different planets, it added a detachment that wasn't there now with her mind pressed so close to his.

He realized quite quickly he couldn't use his saber to bounce back the blaster shots, there were too many civilians here. Instead he used the Force to clear the way, using barriers to keep some of them out of harm's way.

"This isn't the place for you." Tal called out towards one concentration of thugs, perhaps the one containing the ring-leaders. "Lay down your arms and no harm will come to you today, I promise!"

Tansu Treicolt Talin Treicolt Jonath Kago Morrow Ren

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Talon’s brow furrowed with the insistence of both men. She couldn’t leave; the job wasn’t done. The thought of escape looked about hopeless anyways. The set of stairs ahead still remained block by whatever trigger happy lackies they were dealin’ with. The one to their south was turnin’ into a stampede. Jon and the stranger though could try their chances, if they wanted. At least would serve the smart mouths right if they were trampled.

“I’ll cover ya.”

Her piece stuck safely in its holster, she stepped out, wielding the saber dual-handed. The defensive stance Pryce had shoved down her throat. It felt ‘bout as unnatural as puttin’ lipstick on a pig, but was good enough to send plasma flying back from whence it came.

Then something caught her eye. A barrier in the crowd, flickering as it bumped escaping bystanders and halted shots in their tracks. Talsin crossed through an opening in the crowd, making towards their attackers. There was a distinct lack of any blondes trailing behind.

“Tansu?!” Talin called, panicking. She looked back to Jon and Morrow. Three sets o’ eyes would be better than two. “This way.”

The bond with her twin insisted suddenly that something was wrong. Why had Talsin left her? Had he allowed her sister to be hurt? Traditional defense dissipated. Talin scrambled forward, weaving through the crowd for cover, desperately hoping to find her sister or a head to bash.

Morrow Jonath Kago Talsin Lota Tansu Treicolt Ren The Faceless Jordi Massad

 

[Jordi Massad]

The Old Man of the Mountain
Chosen Mask: Face of the Emir

Tags
The Faceless Talin Treicolt Tansu Treicolt Talsin Lota Jerec Asyr
Rel Ahn-Dross Kesh Hevro Skeevi Merrill Ren Morrow
OBLIGATIONS OF YESTERYEAR
3
NEW THEME

'Surely the Jedi is jesting! LOOK AROUND YOU!!!!'
​

The situation was certainly getting out of hand by then, and Massad had remembered what it meant to make the errors that led to moments like these, recalling how much he hated culminations that played out to become this messy. A plan was needed, but if the target could not be apprehended, and if the setting had tucked two Jedi away to kill the operation in it's cradle, the only option that remained (as the Old Man knew well enough-) was evasive action. Looking to his new friend with scepticism, Massad would soon accept the reality that the Faceless lacked the mystical powers required to stem the Force-Wielding tide, tilting his head with shoulders shrugged as he drawled,'My friend, we tried it your way.... But now, you follow my lead - I have an idea.', reaching into his coat-pocket as his gaze turned to search the room.

'This reminds me, I find myself pondering; WHICH SENATOR WAS IT?!?!'

It was in this moment that a fire-extinguisher caught the Old Man's eye, muttering approvals in his native tongue as the first three-round burst slapped against the surface of it's attached red container, sending a second burst to the same flame-stifling containter as his free hand brought out two contact smoke-grenades from his coat pocket. The timing was working out perfectly for exfiltration procedures, and when Jordi finally made a point of inquiring,'Which of your Senators - sends Jedi - TO PLACES LIKE THIS?!?!', the deed was already as good as done in the Old Man's mind.

[CLANK-CL-CLANK]
[BOOOOOOOOOM]

[POP]
[POP]
​

With an outward shockwave, the contents of the fire-extinguisher covered the room in a dry, powdery smoke, followed by the high-popping emanations from the smoke grenades to thicken the dense, silhouette-obscuring haze. The Old Man was quite finished playing games on unfamiliar tables, never once forgetting it took far more oversight-cohesion, more intel, and sure sight more resources to bring Scimitar out into the open like this; the ISB were already fast on his trail, and even with a chosen face worn for the purpose, it would not be long before Ellayina L'lerim tried to snatch him from the wilderness.

'My friend, you're escaping with me, so stay close.'