Serennotime Sadness

[Evaelyn Zambrano]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Crowds gathered on Carannia. The city hosted its annual food festival. It was a week of laughter, games and secret agendas. The park and surrounding marketplace grew by the hour, as more and more came out to the event. The sun and clear blue sky helped too. It was a welcome sight after what felt like weeks of nothing but rain. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]A woman in black waited on a bench, with a thick bag matching her coat, held firmly on top of her lap. She wore a hat, casting parts of her face in shade and kept her hair tucked under it. Even for the shadows it was a warm day, but perhaps she was just one of those people who wore layers upon layers regardless of the day. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The sewers did not benefit from the sun’s fruits. It was damp, dark and reeked of an uninviting concoction of foul smelling wastes. The scent was something unique, its ingredients indiscernible, yet given the source of all things down here the dreadful result did not come as a shock. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The filth trenches hosted unusually fine company today. “So… Today’s the day” a man said. Immediately after an armoured gauntlet slapped against his torso. “Quiet” a mechanic voice hissed from behind the helmet. The sound was distorted, and hard to determine whether it belonged to a male or a female. The four waited at what seemed like an underground crossroads, where four tunnels met. Half of the four were composed of the person in full armour and the man who had spoken, the rest a tall woman in a simple brown-beige outfit with blonde hair tied up in a bun, and a clean-shaven man with broad shoulders and muscular frame. All had a blaster strapped to their waist, except the one in armour; that one carried two.[/SIZE]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Serenno, ahhh Serenno. A name that just rolls off the tongue doesn't it? Sounds kind of like a Gammorrean salsa dance, very spicy. Desmond thought as he imitated the very same dance through the filth. The tunnels he lurked in were dank, dark and rank with foul smelling literal poodoo. Why was he in the tunnels? That was nobodies business but his own, but between you and me, it probably had something to do with the couple bricks of spice he lost. A little street urchin had swindled him.

Promising him a lucrative something in exchange for his profitable other thing, but in the end the child's lucrative something turned out to be a cheap counterfeited commodity that Desmond could've bought for a nominal sum at the local super market.

After the trade the child ran away screaming, sucker!, in a tone of voice that sounded more befitting of a large man than that of a small kid. In fact Desmond had begun to suspect the being was not a child at all, but a dwarf of the galactic alien sorts. Whatever this mystery beings age or origins were Desmond was left completely aloof of, but nothing could sour his mood.

For he knew where the child/dwarf man liked to get high. The little cretin and the rest of his ilk frequented a local spice den in the sewers, or at least so Desmond had been told by a Ithorian for a small fee. It matched up with the direction he saw the urchin run leaving Desmond no reason to doubt the alien. So, he waded through the filth in a only slightly soured waltz. Soon he would have his spice and the precious vintage replica of Han Solo's DL-44 he had originally sought. He continued through the filth as his eyes began to adjust to the dark.

The distant sound of people celebrating the festival above could be heard and Desmond began to wonder if anyone would hear him scream should he become attacked down here. A little frightened now Desmond began to consider going back, but with a great effort he steeled his nerves and pushed himself to go on.

His replicant DL-44 was more than worth it!

Desmond began to near the edge of a bend in the tunnel when he heard voices. He must've been nearing the spice den.

It never occurred to Desmond that the Ithorian had been lying and simply pointed him in the direction he saw multiple heavily armed mercenaries go earlier... It never occurred to Desmond the Ithorian had wanted Desmond to go into the sewers so that he could fish for Des's corpse and the rest of his credits after the shooting was done. It never occurred to Desmond that the Ithorian was, like most people, simply a kharking mother fether. So, as Desmond rounded the corner it was with much authority. Hands to waste, eyes pressed shut, and face scrunched in a foul sneer.

"Alright you spice addled midge-!" Desmond began and when he wasn't immediately greeted with the surprised screams of the gang of midgets he became worried...

He let out an audible gulp and slowly, ever so slowly, began to open one eye. As he did so, he saw that he had not in fact run into a gang of halflings, but a rather menacing looking group of gun toting gangsters.

"Eeep!"

[member="Evaelyn Zambrano"]