Boost THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - RUMBLE ON RUUSAN

[Xoff Chantin]

Xoff Chantin — In a heartbroken Mood

"I trusted you."

Outfit: Something Nice

A low rumble left the Hutt's throat. A sudden intake of air from the pain. He shuddered.

Xoff's mascara had been running for a while now. In the stands, even with the collapsing of the tree, he had come to support Whottoomuzz Chantin , to be with Jobbi Chantin if this was where they would see their parent's last moments.

But this? This was sick. He was enjoying this. He could feel Whottoomuzz's emotions. He was no longer stoic, no longer doing this for pride.

Jealousy and betrayal stung as the Zeltron looked at the rancid display of violence from both Lirka Ka and Whottomuzz. This was... Obscene. And for the briefest moment, he had felt that Whottoo... Whottoo knew they were watching. Just after the fall, just for a moment. And now, he was far from the Hutt's thoughts.

He could forgive the violence, he empathized with Whottomuzz's ambition to bring honor to his clan. But this... This wasn't honor, this was base instinct. This was crude and sadistic and...

Xoff covered Jobbi's eyes. She shouldn't see this.

If this was what Whottoomuzz wanted, Xoff would have gladly played the part. What did this... Lirka have that he didn't?
He pulled Jobbi's head to his breast, hugging the huttlet close as the sting in his heart cause another flow of tears.

If it was just physical, it wouldn't hurt so much. They e had arrangements in the past. But watching Whottoomuzz be hurt, brutalizing back, and enjoying the process... It was like he didn't know his own spouse at all.

Even worse was the publicity of it. In front of a live audience, Holonews coverage, people gambling. This was the monster Xoff married.. and apparently, it took another monster to stir that kind of emotion in the slug he loved.

Xoff couldn't watch any longer. When he could move again, amidst the scraping sounds of bark and armor and flesh, Xoff stood, pries the ring from his finger, and threw it at the arena.

"I Hope SHE KILLS YOU, schutta Sleemo..."

The ring bounced off the audience protective shield. Jobbi seemed confused. She couldn't sense the emotions like Xoff could. Jobbi... Jobbi would be fine.

He looked at the ring, engraved in Huttese, rolling to a halt on the stadium floor. It could remain there.

He sniffled, dabbed at the tears in his eyes, though his mascara was long since run down his cheeks.

The Zeltron turned and rushed out of the stadium, the click of his thigh-high heeled boots slightly too fast to maintain the illusion of composure.

Xoff still loved the hutt. That was why this hurt so much.

OPEN/potentially exit​

 

[Spencer Varanin]

//: "Templar" //:
//: VIP Section //:​

---

Spencer sat beside the child as she watched the fights unfold. It was an interesting event. A sacred Sith tradition was transformed into a tournament hosted by criminals on holy Jedi lands. The thought made the woman smirk as she saw how the modern world was eroding tradition. It was something the Echani had enjoyed during her time. A tradition was meant to be bent and broken - molded into something better.

While tradition was something beautiful, if it didn't change with the times, it would eventually become something else. She had seen it more often than not.

Her eyes trailed from the combat to the child beside her. The Templar's emotions rolled off of her like fog over a mountain. Emotions were thick with annoyance and then recognition. The waves of memory that flickered through the Force made Spencer raise a brow. It seemed, despite not being able to see the girl's face - she knew something was triggered in the depths of her broken mind.

Maybe it was good she brought the child with her - there was a brief moment when Spencer felt guilty bringing her to such a loud and brutal event.
Leaning back, Spencer let her hands rest gently in her lap, fingers threading through the loose fabric of her silken robes.

"We can speak freely here; it's good to practice your voice." She reassured the girl, knowing her struggle.

"A Kaggath is a tradition the Sith have had for centuries. Dating back to the Old Republic." Spencer started, not looking at the Templar as she spoke - her eyes focused on one of her own.

"Typically, the tradition is a duel between two Sith till death or humiliation. It was intended as a means to settle disputes, in a sense. Both Sith would employ everything in their power: armies, bases, even fleets to outmaneuver their opponent to defeat."

A hand gently rested against the curve of her jaw as she listened to the commentary.

"Nowadays, it's more to the likes of just duels between the two Sith - which at times is more entertaining than a full-scale war the old ways demanded. Less loss, especially in the fragility of these Major Factions."

Spencer shrugged and finally looked at her apprentice, tilting her head with a small smile.

"Thoughts? How do you feel about these Kaggaths now that you have an understanding of their reasoning?" Her question was simple, but in a sense, it was a careful attempt to uncover what had caused the reaction the girl had moments after she had asked the question.

"Speak freely; despite being surrounded by Sith, none of them would dare put a finger on you."

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Lucette //:
//: CT-312 //: Jacen Breska //:
//: Attire //:

While Lucy had busied herself with talking to the troopers she had sponsored, Viers had other plans. The prospect of a tournament of fighting made the little Corellian's eyes brighten. This was everything she had ever dreamed of, and with the wide variety of fighters - her heart fluttered.

Running around the outside of the locker rooms, Viers desperately searched for the organizers. She wanted to sign up; she wanted to fight someone.

She moved through the crowd with ease, pausing only to question a few along the way. Each person she stopped seemed more suspicious than the last, their vague answers only deepening her doubt. By the time she reached the final one, she could tell—this was the person who had the answers she needed.

The answer was no.

Viers was too late, and the answer was devastating. It seemed the time it took her to wander, the sign-ups had closed, and the fighters were preparing for combat. The man shrugged and said something about better luck next time. Viers didn't hear it and just wallowed in her sorrow.

A small chirp echoed from her pocket, and Viers retrieved the comm device, answering it. It was Lucy, and her sadness began to fade.

"Oh, I'm not far. I'll be there in a second." Viers responded, and instead of waiting for Lucy to respond, she turned off the comm device and shoved it into her pocket.

Once more, she moved carefully through the crowd till she arrived back at the locker rooms. Hands in her jacket's pockets, she wandered inside to listen to Lucy call her grandmother. The woman sounded important if she was able to do things like provide stuff to people Viers had never met.

Pursing her lips together, she wondered what made the troopers cool enough to participate in the tournament. Viers looked towards the shorter of the two and eyed her a bit - the small trooper seemed scrappy like the Corellian monk. Her eyes then followed the larger man as she mentally began to dissect him.

He would be fun, too.

Another pain of sadness, but Viers figured if they knew Lucy, she'd get a chance to fight them down the line.

"Hi, Lucy," Viers chirped cheerfully as she looked at the two troopers and waved.

"Hi! Good luck! I wish I could join, but the staff told me no." She frowned and tried to think of something to say - something she had heard in a holofilm.

"Break a leg out there, kid." Happy with her encouragement, she looked to Lucy.

"Can we get good seats? I want to watch - I tried to sign up, but they wouldn't let me…you think your grandma could help me get into the tournament?"

It was a stretch, but she could try - especially if Lucy's grandma, whoever she was, could get the troopers some fancy gear to live.