Strychnine [Open Coruscant RP]

[Jonathan Slate]

Guns, drugs, and booze. These were the things that made up the more shady parts of Coruscant. Well really the galaxy at large, but specifically here on Coruscant they were staples of the city's underground culture. Staples that many people on this city planet often worshipped religiously, and said staples were quite frequently used to carry out nefarious acts all across the planet. Particularly in the more undercity parts of Coruscant, but today was an exception to that rule.

Spoiler

[media] https://youtu.be/W-_0V0IXEkc [/media]

Driving down the speeder lanes of the upper city at blazing fast speeds was none other than Jonathan Slate, aka Jimmy. Now Jon was a pretty unstable guy most days, but when you come off a two month bender with no cash, and a dwindling supply of drugs, one needed to get cash pretty quickly. So how does one terribly strung out junkie get large amounts of cash within very short periods of time? Really I don't feel as if I need to answer that question, but for the sake of simplicity he stole it.

With the back of his speeder loaded with bags full of credit chips, the rather raggedly dressed man looked back to see a few police speeders chasing after him. The psychopath had only robbed a good two or three banks today and he didn't see the big deal. If they didn't want him to have the money then they should of made it harder to steal, that was just basic logic. But they were living in a society of weak non drug using politicians, so hey it had its ups and downs.

Taking a deep inhale of a cigarette the man blew black smoke from his mouth before making a sharp right turn. It was clear that if he was going to escape with his wad of cash to fuel his very expensive habit, he'd have to get creative. He'd have to science the crap out of this entire thing. So with numbers scrolling through his head, the man failed to see his speeder crash into an oncoming building causing the vehicle to shatter the glass and skid across the tile floor of what was clearly some kind of office building.

But it got better, because we all know junkies don't wear seat belts. Crashing through the window of his own speeder the man flew forward and splattered himself against a wall hard enough to leave a cartoonish imprint. Slowly falling backwards and landing on the floor of the structure, there was a bit of silence before the sound of nostrils inhaling spice sounded off and a single hand raised itself into the air.

"I'm okay!" and this is where our story begins.

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhyhP_5VfKM[/media]​

[SIZE=11pt]Desmond C’artyom was patrolling the airways of Coruscant with a few bombs in the back of his cab. He was a wanton freedom fighter. His plight was the Gallactic Empire’s and he was battling the oppressions of the Gallactic Alliance via explosive means. It was after all a matter of perspective. Some would call him terrorist, but Desmond preferred more romantic terms. He was getting ready to deliver his payload to a few banks when suddenly money began to rain from the skies. Fat stacks of bank notes began to hail down from above.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He looked up to see what the hell was going on when he spied police cars surrounding an office building with smoke pouring out of it. Well what does a sociopathic maniac do when he’s bored? Well Des’s favorite was blowing shit up and any enemy of the GA’s was a friend of Desmond. So, he swung his speeder round and began to fly towards the disturbance. Already a crowd of onlookers had began to crowd around the place. It just wouldn’t do. So Desmond withdrew an automatic disruptor rifle and began to hose the cops down with it. Heavy artillery weapon that punched holes the size of animals in their buckets. The crowd of onlookers drove away in a panicked hurry at the sound of gunfire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The cops returned with their own weapons, cute little laser pistols and the like. Desmond ducked low in his cab. Small las holes the size of bees began to pepper his hull. He didn’t have much times before the pigs struck their mark, so what did Desmond do next? He got behind the wheel again and began to race towards the cordon, engines hot. His thrusters hit the line of police and the cab of his pod somersaulted over the line of officers. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It landed with a skirching crash inside the office building. It slid several feet before finally coming to a halt. Desmond spied the strange man with the crazy hair and offered him a smile as the man peeled himself off the wall. Desmond reasoned he must be the one the pigs were after as the man appeared to be in a spice addled haze and also surrounded by fat bands of credits. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Salutations pal!” Desmond shouted “The names Desmond, but you can call me Des,”[/SIZE]

[member="Jonathan Slate"]