P A N [D E M O N] I U M
Coruscant System
Planet Coruscant
Upper City, Sector 24-F
The Dead Man's Hand Tavern
Oh no, he would not be denied. Not by anyone or any THING. No, this was a night where the ancient, powerful Sith Lord known as Ket Van Derveld had his way, the factions that existed in this piss-poor excuse for a galaxy could kiss his lilly white arse. He'd been around too long and done too much to let anyone alive tell him what to do. Oh, He knew damn well that this bar was on the capital world of the Sith, and that the Republic was so desperate to reclaim it that they were even more allied with the Protectorate. He knew the Mandalorians would come at the Protectorates beck and call like the obedient lapdogs that they were. He knew full well the Abrion Systems Authority would end up chasing the Protectorate to the ends of the universe, and he just laughed about it. He'd see it all, he'd heard more, and he'd have the last laugh, one way or another.
Ket meandered over to the jukebox, and plunked a few credits into it's waiting slot. He flipped through a few songs, when a rather large man came up to him, pissed off and with more than his fair share of beer coursing through his system...
"Hey, you, don't change that, I'm listening to it!"
"Oh?" Ket said, turning his head to face the man. "And what if I decide to put something else on, hmm?"
"I'll turn you into bantha fodder, old man."
"Old man?" Ket closed his eyes, and laughed as he shook his head.
"You sorry, sad, sackass piece of gutter trash."
Ket grinned, as the rather massive man charged after him. Ket raised his hand, and let loose the Force, gripping the man by his skull. He lifted him up through the tendrils of the Force, and chuckled as the man clawed at thin air, screaming like a little girl, begging to be let down. "Oh, you like to talk, but you can't handle an old man?"
Ket's grin turned even more sinister, and with but a thought, plucking the strings of the Darkness, The large oaf's skull exploded like a grape being smashed, brain matter, skull fragments, and blood splattering every which way. People looked up, screaming and making like a herd of Bantha for the door. Meanwhile, Ket looked back to the jukebox, and finally selected a song he rather felt like listening to.
"Ah, much better."
One wondered who might have the stones to not just show up, but actually confront him. Oh, he was not only hoping for it, he was begging for it.
[member="Darth Junra"], [member="Darth Isolda"], [member="Curupira Hawk"], [member="Ahani Najwa"], [member="Cat Van-Derveld"], [member="Spencer Jacobs"], [member="Darth Sinna"], [member="Darth Janus"]
(Come on, Galaxy. Come play with me, if you got the stones!
)
Planet Coruscant
Upper City, Sector 24-F
The Dead Man's Hand Tavern

The alcohol never talks back to me,
It never tells me when it's time to go home.
It's been my friend for over 25 years,
And she has never cut me low.
The older you are, the wiser you get,
Just listen to me!
When life gets tough and you know it will,
Then have a drink on me!
Oh no, he would not be denied. Not by anyone or any THING. No, this was a night where the ancient, powerful Sith Lord known as Ket Van Derveld had his way, the factions that existed in this piss-poor excuse for a galaxy could kiss his lilly white arse. He'd been around too long and done too much to let anyone alive tell him what to do. Oh, He knew damn well that this bar was on the capital world of the Sith, and that the Republic was so desperate to reclaim it that they were even more allied with the Protectorate. He knew the Mandalorians would come at the Protectorates beck and call like the obedient lapdogs that they were. He knew full well the Abrion Systems Authority would end up chasing the Protectorate to the ends of the universe, and he just laughed about it. He'd see it all, he'd heard more, and he'd have the last laugh, one way or another.
Ket meandered over to the jukebox, and plunked a few credits into it's waiting slot. He flipped through a few songs, when a rather large man came up to him, pissed off and with more than his fair share of beer coursing through his system...
"Hey, you, don't change that, I'm listening to it!"
"Oh?" Ket said, turning his head to face the man. "And what if I decide to put something else on, hmm?"
"I'll turn you into bantha fodder, old man."
"Old man?" Ket closed his eyes, and laughed as he shook his head.
"You sorry, sad, sackass piece of gutter trash."
Ket grinned, as the rather massive man charged after him. Ket raised his hand, and let loose the Force, gripping the man by his skull. He lifted him up through the tendrils of the Force, and chuckled as the man clawed at thin air, screaming like a little girl, begging to be let down. "Oh, you like to talk, but you can't handle an old man?"
Ket's grin turned even more sinister, and with but a thought, plucking the strings of the Darkness, The large oaf's skull exploded like a grape being smashed, brain matter, skull fragments, and blood splattering every which way. People looked up, screaming and making like a herd of Bantha for the door. Meanwhile, Ket looked back to the jukebox, and finally selected a song he rather felt like listening to.
"Ah, much better."
One wondered who might have the stones to not just show up, but actually confront him. Oh, he was not only hoping for it, he was begging for it.
[member="Darth Junra"], [member="Darth Isolda"], [member="Curupira Hawk"], [member="Ahani Najwa"], [member="Cat Van-Derveld"], [member="Spencer Jacobs"], [member="Darth Sinna"], [member="Darth Janus"]
(Come on, Galaxy. Come play with me, if you got the stones!