First Reply Red fella Blues

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

Nos felt the knee snake just high enough behind his neck.

He knew what was coming. Could practically see it in the angles of Braze’s limbs, how tight he clamped, how his right foot searched for leverage. Time wasn't on Nos's side.

He gave a grunt and suddenly shoved off the ferrocrete with his boots, surging upright with a short, powerful burst. His forearm jammed down across Braze’s torso to break the posture, and then, without ceremony, Nos heaved the kid off him with a sudden twist and shove – careful that the space behind Braze was clear not to collide with anything, and letting himself roll backwards into a crouch.

The emotion of doubt bled through telepathically. More complex than doubt. Disappointment? No, it was shame.

If he hesitated a moment longer, the kid would've had Nos's neck in a lock. It wasn't that he suspected the kid would choke him to death in the street, but it was a risk he couldn't indulge for sport, even if it would be a spoilsport move. He was supposed to be better than this. Not combat – duty. He represented more than just himself with his actions. Hurting a civilian, Jedi or not, would be a violation of the trust placed in him.

Nos remained crouched a second longer, breathing through his nose, one hand braced to the ground. His off-duty shirt, his one decent set of clothes until he returned to Fondor, was smeared in dust and grime.

Great.

A slow exhale through his teeth.
"Fast. Technical. If I hadn't broken it when I did you'd have me locked." he said, cautiously standing. "You win, congratulations."

He brushed small pebbles of ferrocrete off his shoulder.

The smart thing would be to simply leave. To mitigate the the risk, de-escalation as the first tactic.

He couldn't just leave, however.

That communicator had encrypted contacts confidential lines. Much more than his life was at risk of that fell into the wrong hands.

He spent too long thinking.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

Braze was quite easily thrown, and quite abruptly, skittering across the duracrete flooring and gathering scrapes on what little skin he had exposed. But with him came an odd hissing sound as he slipped free his prized target.

He'd unbuckled Nos' belt mid-motion, hooking the fingers of his right hand into it, so that when he was thrown, the force of the movement yanked the belt clean from the man's pant loops.


He didn't stay down long. Rolling smoothly, Braze shifted into a kneeling pose, drawing up the item he'd expertly pilfered from Nos and doubling it over.


With a playful snap, he flicked the belt once in the air between both hands.

"What was it you were saying earlier?"

"Just beat your ass for wasting a perfectly good stout."

He quoted him word for word as he stood, slipping the tip of the belt through the buckle again, toying with it, clearly taunting Nos with a smirk that said he was enjoying this far too much. The smarmy little git was certainly proud of himself.
"You dropped something~"
Braze spun the belt lazily in one hand, the snap still echoing faintly in the air as he gave Nos a look that teetered between mockery and invitation. "Temper, temper," he teased, tilting his head just slightly. "You're starting to sound like someone who's not used to losing."

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

The sound of metal hitting metal was subtle.
He heard it first before he saw it.
A single clink, a slide, then a faint splash.

His badge.

Unclipped during the scuffle, it was still latched to the belt Braze was now spinning in amusement. It had slid out of its holster, bounced once on the lip of the storm drain, and disappeared into the grates.

Gone.

The communicator was one thing. The belt? Sure. But the badge? That wasn’t just a symbol. That was clearances. Authority. Identity, hard-magnetic passcodes.

His stomach sank faster than his pants.

A second later, without its belt, the weight of the hip holster, and no tension in the loops, his pants sagged, hit his thighs, then dropped to his boots entirely.

He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn't hear.
Didn't notice the crowd watching from the cantina windows.

He just stared at the drain.

The cold breeze hit his legs. Someone in the cantina gasped.
He could feel the stares. The slow, dawning silence inside the bar. An adult Zeltron standing in his boots and boxers, in the alley beside the cantina.

He didn’t hear what Braze said. Not a word of it. His ears were ringing.

Maybe if he didn’t move, he'd wake up, just a bad dream.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

The glint of metal caught Braze's eye the moment the badge flew free. Without hesitation, he stepped lightly over to the grate, his gaze following the object's descent. With a subtle flick of his fingers, he extended a fine thread of telekinetic force, and fished the lost badge out from the storm drain.

It hovered in the air for a moment, slick with moisture and grime. Braze gave it a slow, controlled spin, using the same telekinetic finesse to shake off the worst of the filth, cleaning the badge mid-air, like this sort of recovery was just another part of his day. "Sir, your authority." he chirped and handed the badge over solemnly with a smirk.

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

Nos took the badge, his face unmoving.
"Thank you."

The Zeltron empathic bleed radiated mortification, static shame, bone-deep fatigue. Just exhausted. Then he remembered his pants were still around his ankles.

He pulled his pants up.
He pocketed the badge with methodical silence.

He didn’t meet Braze’s eyes.
He cleared his throat, voice low but somehow still kept even. If judged by the emotional bleed, he should be sobbing.

“I would like to go home now.”

He looked to the pocket that held the communicator, the belt in Braze's hand.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

Braze offered the belt back after unlacing it, stepping over to retrieve the comm-link as well. With both items in hand, he held them out calmly. "It's not the end of the world," he said, voice softer now, his earlier smirk dimming into something almost apologetic, or at least less cocky.

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

Nos took the communicator first, then the belt — one hand, then the other. He didn’t say much. Just another quiet:

“Thank you.”

He didn’t clip it on. Didn’t cinch the belt back through the loops. Just held it loosely in one hand, the comm in the other, while holding up his pants.

But because, for all Braze’s reassurances…

"It's not the end of the world,"

It might actually be the end of the world.

But he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t unburden that intel, that weight, that knowledge of the threats — Empire remnants backed by the Black Sun Syndicate converging to Coruscant, Sith expansion to Endor — all the vectors of attack that he was travelling all across the mid rim to investigate wore on him. To be on the front lines in three fronts, back to back. Not even home was safe, who knows where Eivii lay her true loyalties.

So instead, Nos just... shuffled off. Picked up his jacket, and went to look for a cab.
One step. Then another. It was all he really had left in him today.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

Braze padded along side him following after. " I don't get why no one just decks me. " He chirped as he followed him. "You know.... suppressing and repressing don't do very good things overall. Drinking to numb the thoughts and feels that are bad is about the same. "

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

Nos didn't stop, didn't look over. He Just said quietly,
"Most people don't hate strangers enough to throw a punch."
A few tired bootsteps on ferrocrete
Then, after a pregnant pause:
"Why do you want them to?"

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

"Oh I see... You don't know of me but I know of you. That's oddly refreshing in some kinda manner... "

Braze mused lightly. "I try not to pick random folks. Last time it was some one else who wanted to stick their nose in my business. "

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Undercover Kit:

Spoiler: Undercover Deployment

* Legion Combat Engineer Multi-Tool

• 4 X Combat/Utility Knife-Model 01
• Cortosis Vibroblade
• Legion Combat Pistol Mark I with Whisper-class Suppressor Series
• Legion Crew Personal Protection Weapon Mark I
• 1 X Modular Hand Grenade-Model 01
• 1 X Anti-Armor Grenade-Model 01
• Bastion-class Load Bearing/Combat Vest (protective vest only)
• 2x blaster cartridges
• 1x stun grenades
• Ascension Pistol
• Fusion Lantern
• Datapad
• Garrote
• 3x stimpacks

"Oh I see... You don't know of me but I know of you. That's oddly refreshing in some kinda manner... "

Nos slowed to a stop. His heart rate spiked, his heart thumping in his chest enough he could hear it.

“Where do you know me from?”

He didn’t recognize the kid, and Nos didn’t forget faces often. Not unless they were disguised. Did he misjudge the kid as a Jedi? Was this someone with a grudge? Sith? The kid was talented, and would have him at a disadvantage here. If it wasn't a sith, could it be another bounty hunter? Did he spend too long from fondor, did Eivii place another bounty? Or maybe. One of the slaver's allies? Or an agent of the black sun, or empire, or Diarchy. His mind raced in an instant, considering the implications of being made in the wild. His hand wanted to reach for his holster, but he stifled the motion. Unchecked intent was deadly around force Users.

“Have we met? Or was I on a some list?”

He turned his head to scrutinize Braze's green eyes with his own turquoise gaze. His shame buried in an immediate fight-or flight mix of confusion and anxiety, survival instinct overwhelming both this far from backup. This close range his best bet would be a grenade of some sort, something that'd hit both of them, and hope that he can stumble away in the confusion.

His posture shifted, quietly bracing for movement, his emotional bleed shifting from shame to a cornered animal in an instant. He was prepared to drop everything and strike with an elbow, but he had to be sure. He had a boot knife he might be able to reach, but if that was his first movement it'd be his last.

Spoiler: Reason for freakout

Weaknesses
- Lingering effects of Head injury: Anhedonia, Bouts of paranoia, Temporary vertigo with certain triggers.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

Braze took a slow step back, giving the man some space without making a show of it. He watched with curiosity, noting the shift in posture, the way his whole demeanor had changed.

"I think you, sir, need a vacation," he chirped lightly, though his gaze lingered with something more thoughtful behind the teasing as he just kept a respectful distance.

"I've seen you in a few different places now," he went on, tone still casual, "You were actually a subject of one of my projects back when I was studying the Senate... And if I'm being honest? You weren't doing too hot back then either."
He shrugged lightly. "This is starting to look like a pattern."

He paused then, watching the other man struggle to get control over whatever was unraveling inside him.

"If I had a credit for every time I've cracked under pressure, I'd have a very small apartment and a very large therapy bill...You're kinda crumbling."

Braze shifted his weight slightly, the mirth easing out of his tone.

" You've been burning the candle, the desk it sits on, and probably the floor too. You're not meant to carry it all like that. "

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

The man’s silence mirrored the comedown of his fight-or-flight response. He stared at Braze, less risk analysis and more fatigue. Never anger, despite everything.

The scarred side of his face caught the faint light off a nearby sign, jagged and pocked Imperfections highlighted in neon. Every muscle had returned to stillness, but the tension remained braided deep in the posture was slow to dissopate.

Just a Jedi.

“That project of yours... was it before or after Hapes?”​

The memory stirred another swirl of adrenalin and cortisol. A bloodbath on what should have been a routine visit. Surpassing the recommended Zeltron dosages of Adrenal, Stimm, and Bacta injections to keep fighting certainly didn't help.

He tilted his head slightly as he returned to the present, as if confirming a detail in his own dossier.

" You're not meant to carry it all like that. "

"Somebody has to. Might as well be me."

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

"It was before. I've noticed you for a few years now," Braze chirped lightly, his tone warm and unbothered.


Then, more gently, "No... that's not good. You shouldn't be thinking like that."
His voice softened, tinged with a quiet kind of knowing.

"I used to think that way too. But when you start down that path, thinking you're only valuable when you're hurting or giving everything up, it doesn't end well. It makes you a danger to yourself... and sometimes to others, even if you don't mean to be."

He paused, eyes steadily staring the man over.

"You have to take care of yourself first. Really take care of yourself. Because if you can't do that, how can you be expected to care for anyone else? You can't pour from an empty cup. And I get it...self-sacrifice sounds noble, but it's a narrow kind of vision. There's more than one way to be good."

​

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Clothing/Armor

​

“It’s not about feeling useful. I just don’t feel much at all.”
Not typically.
Never anything nice.
He adjusted the belt in his hands, voice flat.
“Doesn’t cost me anything to carry the weight if I’m already numb.”
A short pause. He didn’t meet Braze’s eyes.
“Other still feel things. That’s reason enough to keep them breathing.”

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Nos Voros

Braze's brows furrowed. "Those who are numb go through the motions. They stop reacting. Stop caring." He gave Nos a quiet look. "You're not there. You're still feeling something, even if it's not much. And honestly? That's good."

He shifted his weight, voice a little softer now, more honest than dramatic.

"Just… don't go solving a bad day with a forever kind of fix. Temporary problems don't deserve permanent endings.... If you really didn't care, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But what ever... be sad, and soak in your doom and gloom, and don't try to take care of your self. I'm not your dad. That's the annoying thing about self help... you gotta do it yourself. "

Braze walked back away from him.. what would Ko Vuto say?
"These kinds of things don't have cures... only treatments."

Yeah, that was one of those stupid, annoyingly truthful things Ko would've told him.

"Kay bye. " Braze flipped him the bird and hopped off some railing...