First Reply Octotillo

[Jonath Kago]

HUTT SPACE
JILRUA​

He bit into the tuna while sitting down at a local vendor with shade protecting him from the Jilruan sun. Fish was one of many foods that helped with memory loss and brain function, something he researched on the Net and desperately needed. Nuts, berries, and vegetables too. He was hoping for a magical pill to remember why he came to pummeling Talsin Lota and why he felt so much conflict within. It didn’t work out immediately as he’d hope to, but he still had hope with this diet he prescribed himself to.

He needed the space away from his friends…well, maybe just singular if Talin didn’t drop him after what he did. Tansu couldn’t forgive him, he was sure about that. Jon still remembered the way she looked at him and couldn’t shake off that image. The rest of the gang he was still acquainting himself with, so it would be inappropriate to lean on them for moral support.

"You are not just a murderer, you are scum. You don't deserve friends like these"

He reflected heavily on those words ever since leaving Atrisia. Scum like him in this part of Hutt Space; a society of thieves and killers doing the bidding of their criminal overlords. That didn't feel right, how could he be like one of these people? Hell, this was still a breeding pen to train and indoctrinate souls to serve the criminal syndicates. So much so there were arenas meant to pit adolescents against each other, a disgusting aspect of Jilruan culture since war and violence was deeply rooted into their customs. Not just the natives, but others that migrated to this planet partook in these events whether voluntarily or against their own will. Jon shouldn't give a damn how these people lived their lives, anyone not looking for trouble would do so.

But he couldn't ignore it. Deep down he wanted to correct his wrongful deeds; not just Talsin or what happened in The Drop, but it rooted far beyond that and it remained unknown to him. This was just a way to rid some of that guilt buried deep inside him. Finishing his meal, he stood up and walked to one of the local gladiator pits with purpose behind his footsteps.

 

[Morrow]

Black fabric rustled in the dust-laden breeze. The tattered hem of Morrow's cloak fluttered a shadow off to one side. Hood up, only the bottom half of his face was visible, umbra obscuring the upper hemisphere. He leaned against a wall, watching the spaces between the contrary currents of pedestrians. Then, as expected, there was Jon following the flow into the pit. Morrow had been trailing him since before he'd sat down for street food. He'd reasoned this as the next destination, but remained ready to move should he have been incorrect.

Morrow's boot surreptitiously peeked out from his cloak just as Jon would begin to pass by him, heel resting against the duracrete. Shin met ankle, sending Jon to the floor. Morrow moved, grabbing Jon's arm in a faux-helpful fashion and assisting him in regaining his footing. A tug would guide Jon several steps away from the sidewalk, finally assisting his balance once the two of them were flanked by alley walls on either side.

"Gotta be more careful than that, Jon," Morrow remarked, face still concealed. His tone leaned on the border of sardonic.

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Jonath Kago​