Private Kark It, We Ball!

[Lord Dvasius]

Lord Dvasius' residence, Fiviune

Domina Prime

Dvasius walked down a long, black stone hallway with a cup of coffee in one hand and a holopad in the other. Having woken up not long ago he was catching up on the news of the day and anything else interesting on the holonet. "All boringly unimportant.", he said out loud to no one. He came up to a wooden doorway to his left that he opened with a gesture of his hand as he took a sip of coffee and entered. The floor had dark red carpeting, there were bookshelves on both sides of him in the room filled with old Sith writings, some ancient artifacts, and books and other bobbles he just found interesting. In front of him were two handcrafted wooden chairs with leather cushions, an also old wooden desk with a holo-computer, a holo-tablet on either side of it, three older, empty coffee cups he'd forgotten or been too lazy to clean up, and other random knick knacks on top with another wooden, leather chair behind it. The Sith moved the wooden chair to his right, again with the force and walked around the desk to his seat then sat down. Behind him a window from wall to wall horizontally and about 2 wide vertically, that was right above the center of the black, stone wall, which was behind his head when he was in the chair, filling the room with sunlight in addition to the artificial light of ornate lamps. His office.

The tired Sith pick up the holo-tablet and pressed a key on it to sync it to the holo-computer in front of him so the information would copy from one to the other. Putting the tablet down he turned his attention to the holo-computer screen in front of him. There was a classified message on it from Tsis-Kaar command "for High Inquisitor Lord Dvasius". Some new target marked for termination. Another day another death, he guessed, in thought. "Bespin", growing underground crime syndicate, something about "tibanna". "Target yet unidentified? Huh.", he said... to just himself, again. Hmm. Didn't seem too intricate a mission, albeit tedious at some parts. He'd planned out how it'd go in his head as always, as he was expected to. It was always at his discretion, as long as it was completed right, with no heart beating left to see or tell, unless intended and specifically requested. Not impossible, but quite a few steps would be... "a pain in the ass" to complete alone. Lately he'd been checking to see if there were any reputable bounty hunters that could help on his more annoying missions or just do the ones he found beneath him for him. None really stood out. He decided to just put out an anonymous contract to any experienced Mandalorian bounty hunter who can do the hard jobs with discretion and no questions asked. Money wasn't a concern and there would likely be more to be gained during the actual mission itself, as the bounty now said.

The Sith Lord sent out the request to the dark web of the holo-net, then found himself with nothing to do. He grabbed a rather large bottle of whiskey on the table and poured himself quite a few glasses that he drank in quick succession as he smoked some "Sith leaf". Eventually his eyes got heavy and he passed out in his chair with his boots up on the desk, crossed over. He hoped he'd awaken soon with either a notification indicating a bounty hunter's response on one of his devices, the holo-tablet he'd fallen asleep with in his lap, holding almost like he was cuddling it, or a knock/ding at his front door or whatever. Who cares? The job would get done, but first he was gonna do some dreaming. Hopefully lucid and of kicking ass, not some nightmare again. The alcohol and smoke should help with that. He lay there in wait, asleep in his black Sith robe, hood up, and snoring with his holo-tablet in his arms while the "Sith leaf" in the ash tray on his desk filled the closed room with gentle smoke before slowly burning itself out.

 

[Domina Prime]

​

She Was A Girl Who Dreamed Fields of Flowers & Fire

Lord Dvasius ​

The rain drummed against the metal exterior of the transport, a rhythmic cacophony that blended with the soft melody drifting from the crackling old radio. Inside, the scene was as absurd as it was intimidating. Domina Prime, a creature of destruction and monstrous reputation, lounged in the back, her massive frame almost comically squeezed into the transport's cramped space. Despite the tight quarters, she was utterly at ease, her head resting on one of her four hands as her other three tapped, flicked, or lazily waved along to the music.

Her deep, guttural voice hummed along to the song, her pronunciation jagged but oddly melodic as she attempted to follow the lyrics. "She keep stabbing into my heart, But you can't stab my love away! Knew she was evil from the damn start, She would dance on my fucking grave~"

Occasionally, her claws tapped against the walls or clinked rhythmically on her armor as if she were conducting an invisible orchestra. Her enormous tail, now coiled and mostly motionless, twitched every so often in time with the beat.

The driver, a wiry human man with more nerves than he'd like to admit, flicked his eyes nervously to the rearview mirror. His heart pounded every time he caught sight of her rows of glimmering teeth when she chortled or playfully mimicked the singer on the radio. Her hulking figure was a stark contrast to her casual demeanor, and he couldn't decide if her mood was endearing or terrifying. He chose to focus on the road instead.

The transport jostled slightly as they hit a bump in the dirt road leading to their destination, a sprawling estate nestled in the heart of Fiviune's stormy countryside. Lightning flashed, illuminating the rain-slicked windshield and casting eerie shadows over the estate's towering silhouette.

Domina, unbothered by the shift in motion, extended one of her claws lazily to adjust the volume on the radio, her five eyes narrowing contentedly as the song reached a crescendo. "If you a demon, show your damn claws! And I'll introduce the blood to fang! Under the moon, you look the best, daaaaaarlin...I just can't get our love to break~" She sang while swiping her azurite claws through the air playfully as The Driver gulped, gripping the wheel tightly as they neared the estate's gates. It wasn't every day one chauffeured what amounted to a living nightmare to a potential job.

Finally, the transport came to a stop just outside the estate's imposing entrance. The storm seemed to intensify, thunder rumbling like the roar of some cosmic beast. The driver exhaled sharply, relieved to have reached the end of his part in this strange ordeal. With shaking hands, he unbuckled and stepped out into the rain, quickly circling around to the back of the vehicle.

As he opened the rear door, Domina shifted with a languid stretch, her claws scraping against the metal interior with a screech. She hunched slightly to avoid hitting her head as she stepped out, her full frame emerging into the storm. Her furred cape, slung over one shoulder, billowed dramatically in the wind, giving her an even more imposing silhouette.

She stood for a moment, her head tilted toward the sky, letting the rain wash over her scales and cloak. The faint glow of her azure blood veins seemed to intensify in the storm's half-light, adding an ethereal quality to her monstrous form.

The driver lingered awkwardly, clearly unsure whether to bid farewell or bolt back into his vehicle. Domina noticed his hesitation and waved a clawed hand in an almost comically casual manner. "Bye-bye, little mouse," she said, her voice a low purr as her mandibles chittered briefly. She turned without another word, leaving him to scramble back into his seat.

Domina approached the grand double doors of the establishment, her footsteps heavy yet deliberate on the stone path. Her claws clinked lightly against the ornate metal of the door as she CLINKED, CLACKED, CLUNKED her azure claws along the door in her own unique knock on the door like dragging nails across a board, the sound sharp and commanding even over the storm. The doors loomed large before her, but they were just another barrier to conquer—a formality before her next hunt.

And Domina Prime was nothing if not a consummate hunter, even if the waiting estate held something more intricate than her usual prey. Whatever lay within, it mattered not. She had sharpened her edge in the months since the battle, and now, she was ready to carve her way through the galaxy once more.

All she needed was an excuse.

"Little pigs little pigs, let Prime in~"

 

[Lord Dvasius]

Outside a storm raged, reflecting the storm inside the mind. Lightning flashed, lighting up the darkened room where Dvasius slept. If only it was like a baby. The window sound proofed the room from the outside, but as if through the Force, the sleeping Tsis-Kaar High Inquisitor (he never liked that title, but it was his) swore he could still hear it. It's energy, it's own rage and power reaching out own. The room had darkened automatically, reading his vitals through technology inside to know he was asleep and adjusted for him.

Thunder crashed once again, in his dream of the past or in reality, he couldn't tell and he jerked awake in the dark. The orange fiery glow in his eyes was all that could be seen of him in the dark. Then the lights slowly came up revealing his white hair and scarred face. His breath was quick and shaky. A little red light flashed on his desk and it's device beeped, annoyingly with it. Had that woken him up? He couldn't actually hear the thunder outside. He knew that. He acknowledged the machine but only looked down further at his reflection, in the sheen of the glass, covering the top of his wooden desk. He looked so much like his mother now. He was so much like her now too, he thought to himself. No matter. She wasn't here... he didn't think. He slowed his breath and let out a sigh of forced relief. Kark those nightmares. As if he'd forgotten those days, but it seemed he needed a new reminder every night. At least it would give him greater conviction and more power of the Force he could harness.

Pressing the glowing light he saw a hologram come up, painted in red light. Through the eye of the chauffer he'd sent he could see the... woman? Blue alien, monster woman thing... that was the Mandalorian he'd hired for this job. Or at least was under consideration for the job. A part of him thought she was oddly and stunningly attractive in a weird way... for an alien monstrosity. Still. Damn. He whistled to himself.

She seemed to think the man was just afraid of her, but the driver knew Dvasius was also watching him with an eye, full of a more hateful hunger. A literal eye. Cybernetic, of course. He'd had the driver and all his staff's eye plucked, on his manse or anywhere else's he stayed. Just one. To be replaced with a cybernetic connected to his network so he could see what they see through his own. He quite literally had eyes everywhere. In addition to the blue woman in the back seat the chauffer was terrified of the messages coming over his vision in red letters.

"Stop being a pussy and look at her so I can get a scan or I'll detonate your brain stem!", the one on display now read. He shakingly obeyed, trying not to show tears of fear he wanted to, but could not cry or... he would die. Dvasius felt his fear and breathed it in like a sweet scent or like oxygen or nourishment. He snickered a little bit to himself. The scan came up. An image of the... "woman" came up standing like a 'T' and spinning. There wasn't much. It seemed even the system wasn't entirely sure what she was.

"Hmmph."

He hated not having all the data. Being misinformed was something someone in his career could not afford. She was an amusing creature that seemed to be quite amused herself in general. With the music in the speeder, and at the chauffer's fear. The last probably as much as he was or close anyway.
Cameras outside watched as the car finally pulled up. The driver got out, to the quick, and opened the door for the blue woman. She stretched and got out then the driver scampered away, some time later, back to the speeder and drove away. The little, shaky man was human. Caucasian with a brown, retreating hairline he combed over, but had little else of note about him. Damn. You could just see the cowardice in his movements. He even walked like a schutta. Disgusting, but what'd he expect from a slave.

He focused back on the woman. Hmm. The apparently Mandalorian woman was a lot bigger than he thought originally and pretty... uh, deadly looking. She'd better be worth the credits he was paying.

He could even hear her mumbling song to herself at the door about "Little pigs". His brow furrowed, "I'm gonna ignore that", Was all he said. He turned back to the holo-phone and shut off the image projecting and pressed another button, "Get the door! And hurry the kark up! I got business to attend to..." the man at the other end started to walk away, then halted suddenly, in his tracks, "And tell that other guy... what was his name? Sherman or something... Who gives a kark. Tell him to bring me some water... no tea, and something to eat. Fast! Or I'll put you both up out back with the others!", The comm went silent and the "servant" did as he was told, with fear induced quickness.

What he was talking about, what was in the back yard... The back "yard" which had a beautiful and vibrant garden, massive trees and bushes everywhere, that even went around into the front. Domina Prime might have even seen this and the smaller garden circle in the middle of the driveway she was just standing in. Along the pathway in the backyard, complimenting the beautiful garden, were hanging prisoners of war. Screaming on crosses. Trophies brought back from a battle that he'd recently won to scream a symphony of suffering for him. Likely Dima could hear this too, but barely, over the thunder and the rain.

Another worm-like man opened the large wooden front door. The side to her right, as it opened in two down the middle. This one, also of little note. Perhaps 50 or so years, human, in a nice and expensive looking tux, that was far beyond his own worth.

He barely looked at Dima, afraid of both her and his master. He was a weasel, subservient to any he saw. He knew his place. Partially hiding behind the door, he opened it fully as he turned to lead her inside.



A little while earlier...



Lord Dvasius was standing outside the doors of his little office. They mirrored the front doors, but were a lighter, yellow-brown wood color, not dark mahogany. He'd been standing there for awhile, received his tea, and a nice little meat - cheese sandwich, which he ate pretty fast, since his hangover made him very hungry. Holding the tea in one hand and looking, casually and unconcerned, at nothing. He said, "Thank you." to the "servant" who brought him his food and refreshment. Then he pulled a standard imperial blaster pistol out from his belt and shot him dead anyway. Right between the eyes without even looking. Never saw it coming. The green blaster bolt lit up that bit of the hall for a second, echoed down them too.

He looked at the "servant" that was about to open the front door for the woman and all he had to say to justify himself, though he didn't need to, as he was a Sith Lord and the master of this house, was, "I didn't like that guy... or his face.", then shrugged and moved past it, like nothing happened. More "servants" came to drag away the body, and little clean up droids came out immediately, to make it look that way too. The hall was pristine again. Corpse, blaster burn, and bloodstain free. In truth he did hate the man and his face. He did this so he could watch his "servants" piss themselves in fear of him. He loved the taste of fear and suffering. That's why he surrounded himself and his manor with it. It gave him such power to do this. Not to mention, that specific "servant", was always giving him the eye when he thought he was out of Dvasius' sight. His thoughts, almost always, showed he, so badly, wanted to kill his master. Better to kill him first before he could make an attempt. There were plenty of reasons frankly. It was good to remind everyone. He sees everything in this house.

A rather unnecessarily loud and almost unnerving knocking on the door echoed down the hallway in front of them to where Dvasius and his "butler" were standing. The main "butler" anyway. He liked abusing and messing with him the most. His fear was always entertaining. So jittery.

The Sith looked at him, eyes wide as if they were saying "Move or I'll kill you where you stand" and gestured in that direction with his repetitive head tilts. Then finally he turned in the doors' direction, and pointed to the door, "Go get it boy!", he said like the man was a kath hound. The man still stood there, confused what he was doing.

"Go get the karking door, dumbass! What the kark? Geeeooooo, schutta.", he commanded, more serious this time, showing the anger and mockery deeper, in his speaking, "Or I'll cut off your face!", he added, just cause he woke up pissed and chose violence.

The man rushed to the door and opened it for the blue woman. As the bounty hunter walked in behind his elder "servant" she might have noticed a mark on the bottom left side of his neck. A brand. In the shape of a serpent encircling a diamond with two notches digging into both sides of it, so it looked like a smaller diamond over an arrow. The diamond might be recognized as a symbol the Sith Order was in the habit of using, but the serpent's meaning was unknown, unless she'd encountered other Tsis-Kaar before and had been educated on it, somehow. Doubtful. Dvasius used the symbol of his organization, that he was so proud to be apart of as a mark on the neck to identify his slaves as his.

Now the Lord of Fire, as some he defeated and some who served under his temporary command had come to call him, stood at the end of the long hallway from the doors to outside to those of his office. It intersected as part of a different hallway. Dvasius was just finishing a second sandwich and still drinking his tea, with a straw. He was dressed in typical Sith attire. A black cloak, resembling, and in mockery of the brown ones worn by Jedi, with the hood down. The neck of his armor came all the way, almost below his jaw. It looked like it's meant to connect to a mask of some kind. His scarred, yellow-orange, eyed face and white hair, in the open, above it. Those eyes scanned Dima up and down, not just appreciating her appearance, but studying her. Her worth. Would she be worth what he would be paying, for a little sidekick killing machine. "We'll see.", he thought. His eyes showed curiosity, but mostly they showed the same typical, egotistic indifference Sith usually displayed. Like all was beneath them and not worth their time. Which, with most beings, was true. So many idiots out there.

When the bounty hunter finally stood before him, he said, "I am Lord Dvasius. I must admit I've never seen a Mandalorian like you," he looked at her, up and down, from her feet to the top of her head. Noticing how tall she really was, "but looking at you I think you should have no trouble doing the job I need you for. Here's hoping you prove me right.", he said raising the tea slightly.

Suddenly, down the hall to the left, loud, torture sounding screaming and devices, could be heard coming up the stairs from a doorway on the left hand side a ways.

"Shut the karking door!", The Sith screamed back when the screaming took a temporary pause. The door could be heard shutting and then there was complete silence. "So sorry about that. That's cool though, right? I got all the doors here made sound proof." He was an assassin after all.

He took another sip of tea, "Wow! Is there vodka in this? Damn. Maybe I shouldn't have killed that guy. Hmmph.", he shrugged, unbothered while continuing to drink it,. "You! Write that chit down and start doing that. Wait... Why are you even still here? Kark off! ... Thank you!", the last bit he said sarcastically, and mockingly, as if the "butler" was incredibly dumb.

"Anyway. Sorry. What the kark was your name? Did I ask that?", Dvasius said, now actually looking her in the eyes. Looking up into her... man which set of eyes does he look at? He kind of went through looking at all of them and tried focusing on the ones that were most interactive with him.

 

[Domina Prime]

​

You Walk Along The Edge of Danger
And It Will Change You
◈
Why Would You Let This Voice Set in Your Head?
It Is Meant to Destroy You

Lord Dvasius​

The thunder crashed once more, vibrating through the heavy stone of the estate, as the towering figure of Domina Prime stood motionless at the grand doors. The low rumble in her chest echoed like a primal growl, reverberating with her amusement, her anticipation, or both. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doors creaked open. A butler—a pale, wiry man dressed in meticulously pressed attire—stood in the doorway. He hesitated, his posture stiff, his face betraying the barely-contained apprehension of being in the presence of such an mandalorian menace.

"Please, this way, ma'am. Our lord is expecting you," the butler said quickly, his voice strained but steady as he stepped aside with a sharp bow.

Domina tilted her head slightly, her five eyes narrowing beneath her Mandalorian mask, silently appraising the man before stepping inside with a deliberate slowness. Her tail swayed lightly behind her, its movements mesmerizing and ominous, as if warning the servant that it could lash out at any moment. The butler didn't dare to look directly at her again, instead focusing on leading her through the sprawling estate.

Domina's gaze wandered over the décor as they walked. The opulence of the place amused her; it was clear her client valued both wealth and intimidation. The furniture was carved from rare woods, inlaid with intricate patterns of gold and obsidian. The walls were lined with tapestries and artifacts—war trophies, Sith relics, and exotic art pieces whose craftsmanship and history hinted at untold violence and excess. Despite herself, Domina's lips curled into a small smile, the childlike wonder in her eyes betraying her curiosity.

But she snapped to focus as they reached the office. The butler opened the grand doors and stepped aside, ushering her into the room. Domina entered with the same deliberate pace, her armor gleaming faintly under the dim, moody lighting. Seated behind a massive desk carved from a single block of black stone sat her client.

"I am Lord Dvasius," the Sith Lord announced, his voice oily and self-assured. His piercing red eyes studied her. "I must admit, I've never seen a Mandalorian like you."

Domina froze for a moment before letting out a boisterous laugh that rattled the very air. The sound echoed ominously through the halls as she reached up with one of her upper claws to sweep her snowy hair back, theatrically removing her military cap and tucking it under her arm.

"Oh, sweet little godling," she crooned, her voice a low, mocking purr. "Is it not obvious, despite what your eyes feast upon?" She gestured to herself with one clawed hand, her lower arms folding neatly behind her back, while her tail flicked with an almost predatory rhythm. "There are no Mandalorians like Prime~" Her declaration came with a bark of laughter that drowned out all other sounds, save for the distant, blood-curdling screams from somewhere deeper within the estate.

"Shut the karking door!" Lord Dvasius snapped, visibly annoyed. The butler scrambled to obey, slamming the door shut with a bang, cutting off the horrific cries. The Sith reclined in his chair, spreading his hands in a mock display of apology. "So sorry about that. That's cool though, right? I had all the doors here made soundproof." He grinned, as if expecting her approval of his ingenuity. "Anyway, sorry. What the kark was your name again? Did I ask that?"

Domina blinked, momentarily thrown by his flippancy. Then, with an exaggerated gesture, she reached up and removed her mask, revealing her alien visage. The sharp contours of her face, her quivering, serrated teeth, and her five glowing eyes seemed almost to drink in the dim light.

"Prime," she said simply, her voice carrying a dark melody as her mandibles chittered briefly. A wicked grin spread across her lips as she continued. "So, you are a man, are you not? Why has this one not been offered a drink?"

Without waiting for a response, she reached into her cloak and produced a violet leaf wrapped around a luminous crimson substance flecked with azure dust. She rolled it between her claws with practiced ease before snapping her fingers, conjuring a blue flame that ignited the cigar-like creation. Domina took a deep drag, her chest expanding as the sparkling smoke filled her lungs. She exhaled slowly, the haze pouring from her nostrils and the teeth lining her jaws, enveloping the room in a shimmering, iridescent cloud.

As the smoke spread, Lord Dvasius would be smothered in the cigars thick, unusual smog. Domina leaned forward through the haze, holding the lit cigar out to him with a wicked smirk.

"How bout we share?" she teased, her voice dripping with menace and amusement.

 

[Lord Dvasius]

As the strange, blue alien woman laughed and talked, Dvasius kept looking to his side for someone who wasn’t there to reaffirm how strange this encounter was.

“Godling? If it’s ‘God’ anything, it’s followed by ‘of Shadows’.”, he said, sounding offended, but trying not to as much as possible. The next thing was so strange and forward he looked her up and down again, but this time with a judging look of “What did you just say?” The Sith watched her tail twitch like some playfully threatening animal. The next thing Dima said he did understand, it was something he would have said. So was what was said before, albeit both in a stranger, alien-ish way. He scoffed almost like he was proud of what he heard, even though it was nearly a slight at him.

“This is weird. You talk like me, but strange. Other Sith would say I’m strange, but they’re weak pussies, so that’s not an opinion that matters, is it?”, he snorted dismissively at the thought of those other Sith when he finished speaking.

When the alien took off her helmet to reveal her face, he wanted to be surprised, but he’d seen plenty of stranger things created by Sith… in fact. She had some similarities to those creatures. Another Sith’s test tube baby, maybe? Still he didn’t know which eye or eyes to look into and kinda looked away before continuing on once she’d finished.

“Prime? Just Prime? I know that’s not it, but keep the rest if you want.”... The Assassin’s brow furrowed and his face soured, but he just clicked his tongue and then the intercom, while flashing a quick, fake smile, “Get the fuck in here with four more vodka teas. I don’t think I need to say the rest about hurrying up and face taking.”,

“No, s-” the “Servant was almost immediately cut off, “I don’t need to hear your voice. Move, walk. Or this hangover becomes your problem.”

He took his finger off the button and leaned back in his chair, “It’s coming. And quick if it likes living.”, It was hard to tell if he was snarky at the man on the other end of the call, her or what else.

Immediately Dvasius recognized what she pulled out of her cloak and was likely she could smell some of his own still hung prominent in the room. He watched as she Dima take her hit then pass it to him. As he reached over his desk to take it he seemed reluctant in his mannerism to admit that she was actually kinda cool for that. The Sith took a deep inhale followed by a second through his nose, as the smoke leaked out of his mouth.

“Mm.”, He turned in his chair to hit a button on the wall behind him and the window at his back vanished like it was never there, letting thunder and crucified screams enter the room along with the sounds of rain and thunder.

“Too quiet. Sorry. Bothers me.”, He said, as he handed the blunt back then picked up the one he had on his desk ashtray already.

Luckily it was wrapped in slow burning leaf so it went out rather quick during his nap without burning away too much. Dvasius did the same trick, flicking his fingers like a lighter flint and producing a flame over his finger that went from yellow to purple as it got hotter, then lit his own blunt with it. Mock exaggerating how cool he was, too by doing a magic hands gesture, like “Ooh fire!” before hitting it.

“I can do that too, lady. So can my grandma. Chill… Anyway take this.” he mouthed off, but handed her the blunt anyway.

Opening the drawer of his desk, he pulled out a little lightsaber looking thing that looked like it had sap inside or something inside the top of it and puffed on that too, before passing that as well. Just then, as he finished his puffs, the “butler” finally walked in with their drinks, putting them on the desk in front of both of them.

“Thank you.” the Sith said to him, his voice dripping with a suspicious tone of menacing, “Oh! Tell them to start my ship. Bye now… wait.” the “Servant”, a different one than the others before stopped as he reached the door and turned around, “Hm?”

“That was too slow.” Dvasius said grimly.

Purple bolts of electricity flew over Dima’s shoulder and knocked the man off his feet and back into the hallway out the door, disintegrating in the air. The Sith sniffed in a way showing he felt no guilt for such petty revenge against such a ‘small’ being and was already moving on. Like it was simple business now over, but it was less than that to him.

“Anyway.” He said, slamming one of his vodka teas then picked up the other and started walking with quick importance. Speed walking. He snatched his smoking “cigar” out of her clawed hands as he passed, unafraid.

“Come on. Let’s go. We’re going to Bespin. We got chit to do and street punks to kill.” the Sith docked his head to the side, reinforcing the “come on”, the cigar smoking between his lips., “Eh.” he grunted, with a silent, "Whatever", and went on anyway.

Soon they had landed on the gaseous planet and started hunting down leads to find the true target. The man in charge. Violently.

Dima passed Dvasius a blunt while he was driving then he gave a two finger salute. Was the car going faster? As the speeder slammed into another black, tactical looking vehicle, the Sith ignited his red lightsaber and swung at the windshield, shattering it as he flew out of it. He landed on the hood of the other car, adjusting his saber mid air and thrusting it down through their windshield, impaling the driver. The passenger beside them was about to take to take action, but a blast of force lightning shattered the windshield completely and cooked him before he could grab his blaster in his hands. Dvasius jumped off the hood and threw his lightsaber into it. The front of the car exploded and he landed on the ground from a backflip, his lightsaber flying back into his hand the next second. He stared back into the car he came out of like, “Come on!” and kept going off on the poor dudes without skipping a beat.


Domina Prime