Vittras Zerga
Hero Reborn
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rpx_PcZjByY
The back room of Busted Blaster, Kiffex
A wandering female hand trailed across an ample, tattooed chest, burgundy-colored nails tauntingly scraping against taut skin. The hand ascended up a broad neck that ended with a thick black beard framing an angular jawline; just as it was planning to continue its well plotted path, the hand came to a halt. A blaster was pointed outwards, right into the forehead of a fine exemplar of a Wroonian female who sought to earn a few credits for the night. On the other side of the pistol lay Vittras Zerga, a wanted fugitive who escaped a high security prison several months ago. The expression on his face was stoic, as if the woman had just spent several minutes touching a tombstone, not a human being. He didn't even bother to establish eye contact, but continued peering somewhere into the distance, his teal gaze out of focus.The hall he found himself was gloomy, shrowded in semi-darkness of candles and lanterns and permeated by sweet scents of burning giggledust. Booths were divided by translucent curtains adorned with crystals that reflected dim light, creating kaleidoscopic images on the walls. In each booth; a bed, daybed or a long-chair to serve as resting place for those seeking lucid dreaming.
"Not tonight." he voiced in a deep baritone and nudged the woman with the end of the barrel, which was more than sufficient to show that her company was not desired, even if it was free of charge. Vittras set down the blaster beside the daybed he rested upon and comfortably sat back amidst black silken pillows. Around him - The Opium Room. It's existence was considered as nothing more than an urban legend, but those who were regular visitors knew well that the Room was real.
The business model was simple - gatherings of all types of spice users and abusers in one place, where they could all enjoy drugs in what was sometimes a massive orgy, sometimes a collective reverie. Instead of wasting time on dispensing drugs through the streets of Kiffex and risk being caught by Kiffu Guardians, criminals organized sessions where those with enough credits could buy pure and quality spices and consume them in bulk. A high entrance fee assured an assorted clientele; from crime-lords and mercenaries, to the rich who wanted to experiment out of sheer wantoness. The man whom Vittras had executed this morning had just enough on him to pay for a proper glitterstim fest.
In the manner of a true glit-biter, Zerga injected another shot of finest Kesselian glitterstim into his nostrils, then leaned his head back to let the active substance absorb itself through his sinuses. Pressure began to build up in his forehead before the drug kicked in, seeping into his conciousness to completely overtake him. The Kiffar exhaled deeply, as he felt an internal release, like a dog who had been let out into the back yard after an entire day spent indoor. His otherwise clenched fists opened up as he rocked his head forth and opened his eyes, only to see another woman before him. Yet this one was profoundly different, her simple tan dress and modest beauty out of place.
Her long golden hair was assembled into a thick braid, rosy cheeks resembling that of a child who had spent a lifetime in the countryside. She was not pretty by the standards of the place she found herself in, but there was warmth in her light-brown eyes, and love...so much love. She held her buldging stomach in her hands ever so gently, as if carrying the treasure of the world. One hand stroked across, as if trying to pacify the child that grew within. Vittras' mouth half-opened in awe, like that very day he pledged himself to her in front of the altar of the universe. He remembered every single feature of her face, he memorized every single inch of her skin, deliberately carving it into his mind for all eternity. After all, he was unable to forget due to a genetic disorder he inherited from his mother's side.
"You should've let her stay." said the woman, gracing him with a temperate smile. Vittras didn't smile back as he beheld his late wife Zharia, whom he'd allegedly killed in the most brutal ways imagineable. He had no tears to shed anymore, his eyes dry as landscapes of Tatooine. Instead, he let out a barely audible whisper.
"Never."
[member="Khyon Drogo"]