Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Urban Grime, Urban Crime

Neon lights reflected in oily puddles along the street. The rain had already stopped, having succeeded only in making this little corner of Coruscant’s underworld a little slipperier. And smellier.

On a grimy sidewalk, a tall figure stood. Blaring neon from a strip club sign somewhere above shone hot pink on raven hair. His head was lowered, staring down at a small brown paper bag clutched in his hands.

A stranger had given it to him “for safekeeping”, and he had been so caught off guard, he had naively accepted it. Granted, he hadn’t sensed any deception or malice from the stranger as they smiled at him and hurried away… mostly just a sense of urgency. It was just that he was in no position at the moment to be holding onto anything for anybody.

Not to mention that he still had no idea what was inside the bag, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

He raised his head, looking around for a trash can. Spotting one in a nearby alley, he hesitated, still rooted to the spot. What if whatever was inside the bag was dangerous? What if it was valuable? What if the stranger came back and got angry at him? He couldn’t just throw it away. And though he wouldn’t admit it, he was actually curious to see what it was...

 
Yula often found herself on Coruscant in the wake of whatever skirmish she and Dagon had teamed up for. Lately, the fare was transitioning from criminals to actual war, Sith and Bryn’adul included. The medical care was better here than on Denon anyway.

To his effort, Dag tried his best to include her in Jedi activities. His nudges towards the NJO had become less subtle over time, used to her rejecting him with a sneer and an ugh, Jedi. Still, he’d gotten her onto Coruscant. That in itself was a victory against her obstinate nature.

While he was busy, Yula took to the underworld of Coruscant. If she was going to spend more time on this world—which she still wouldn’t admit—it would do her good to become familiar with how things operated. Temples and business districts and whatnot were all well and good, but the undercity of a planet was where you could get the best read on a world’s pulse.

She wasn’t having a great time.

Rain had brought out the worst of the city, dispersing the oily scent of grime through the air, up her nose, into her hair.

His back was to her, and she came to an abrupt halt, startled. That caused her to slip in a puddle of grease, limbs flailing wildly for a hot second before she found purchase on a less slick patch of duracrete. Gathering herself, her face squinted into a focused pout as she took a moment to make sure he wasn’t a stranger. Couldn’t be—same hair, same build, same body—and she was an expert on that last bit.

But wasn’t he supposed to be off doing Jedi things? Meditating or saber practice or whatever it was?

Ah, but this was Dagon. No stranger to the underworld, he’d probably snuck off to trail a lead. Wait, without her?

Her lips pursed with indecision before they unfurled into a wicked smirk. Sneaking up behind “Dagon”, she jabbed him in the sides with the pointer and index fingers of both hands.

“Thought you’d have fun without me, eh jackass?”


Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
The sound of boots slipping in an oil puddle were as distant as sirens to him, so absorbed in the matter of the bag was he. He completely failed to notice he was being approached until he suddenly felt two sharp jabs in his sides.

He jumped like a startled cat, whirling around wide-eyed. The stranger had returned to collect… wait… the stranger had been an Ithorian, not a Zeltron—?

But it was too late. His arm was already extended, thrusting the paper bag into her face.

 
Oph.

Was the sound Yula made, her surprise muffled by a paper bag to the face. One hand reached up on instinct to remove the disruption, relieving him of the bag and—

“You’re…not Dagon.”


From behind, he’d certainly looked it. But the features of his face were different enough, even if he still held some resemblance to her boyfriend by the curve of his jaw and bright blue eyes.

The Zeltron’s surprise melted into something more sheepish, and she was left rubbing the back of her head with her free hand. “Sorry about that.” Way to assault a stranger, Yula. “…you uh, you looked like someone familiar from behind. Here’s your bag back. We're good, right?” One arm extended, dangling the bag in his immediate vicinity.

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
Kai tilted his head to the side.

<You know Dagon too?>

Kai had gotten used to being mistaken for everyone’s favorite “jackass” by now. In fact, he’d used Dagon as a scapegoat a few times, mostly for relatively harmless blunders and pranks. Who accidentally dropped a library book in the pool? Dagon did it. Who ate an entire watermelon on a dare from a group of younglings? Dagon did it. (He was also the one who threw up in the mess hall afterwards, and was forbidden from associating with that particular group of troublesome younglings anymore. In fact, best to keep Mr. Kaze away from children altogether.) Who kept crawling around in the Temple’s ventilation system, whether the ducts could stand his weight or not? Dagon, obviously—he had a history of doing that. At least Kai wore a shirt when he did it.

But that was back when he was still welcome at the Jedi Temple. After a certain violent encounter with a Jedi Master and his Padawan, he’d been forced to modify his features to avoid being recognized, leaving only a ghostly resemblance to Dagon. Unfortunately, he hadn’t even considered how he looked from behind…

After half-spinning around in an awkward attempt to look at his own backside, Kai noticed the Zeltron trying to give the bag back to him. He shook his head vigorously, still a little on edge.

<You can have it. It’s not mine.> He shrugged. <I don’t even know what’s in it.>

 
Too? Yeah, I know ‘em.”

Oh, she knew him welllll.

Dark eyebrows crumpled together while processing what he’d said—or rather what he didn’t say. Did he- was that-

Yula stuck her pinky in her ear and twisted it from side to side. Maybe she’d heard wrong, maybe his lips moved and she was took struck by his familiar appearance to integrate everything.

Not-Dagon spun like a dog chasing his tail for half a moment before waving off the bag that she tried to offer back. This time, she was sure that his mouth didn’t move.

“Uh, no thanks.” A stranger trying to foist an unmarked paper bag unto you in a shady alley was never a good sign, and Yula held it away from her person as if it were covered in chit. “Do you…where did you find this?”

Nefarious characters had usually sprinted away by now. The Zeltron couldn’t deny that there was something vaguely intriguing about the man, and not just for the reason that he sort of looked like her boyfriend. Apparently this was going to be her afternoon.

“How do you know Dag? You a Jedi?” Maybe their shared connection could foster something less odd. Her first thought was that the NJO folks wouldn't be hanging around the Coruscant underworld, but then again, she'd met Dagon in a place like this.

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
Well, if she knew Dagon, that meant her brain was off the menu. He didn’t eat friends of friends. Something told him she had some pretty gross memories in there anyway. Most Zeltrons did, in Kai’s experience—though his experience was currently limited to weirdos in the underworld.

He shrugged. <A stranger gave it to me.>

To further illustrate his answer to her question, he summoned up a mental image of the Ithorian bag-giver and projected it into the pink lady’s mind. After handing him the package, the Ithorian had walked down the street and out of sight.

At her next question, Kai made a face that became progressively sadder and droopier as he “talked” without moving his lips, to the point where he started to look like a human basset hound.

<No. I want to, though. Like Dagon and Aeris. But all the other Jedi can’t make up their minds whether they want to help me or kill me.>

He looked down at the bag, eyebrows rising.

<Maybe that Ithorian was a Jedi...>

 
A str-

Yula stiffened as the image of a shady Ithorian materialized in her mind, clear as a holo. The shifty hammerhead had hurriedly shoved the brown paper bag into Not-Dagon’s hands before disappearing into the network of underworld alleys.

“Wh-“ The picture in her brain dissipated, and Yula’s free hand held her head steady in a measure of disbelief and exasperation. “Warn me next time before you do that, yeah?” A pink forefinger massaged at her temple, and her one visible brow creased in irritation. The other, along with the socket where her left eye should be, was hidden behind a length of dark hair.

At his explanation, her lips pursed and pinched to the side. What an odd fellow.

She was quick to shake her head at his last sentiment. “I don’t think so.” Back to more pressing matters…

“Whyyyyy would they want to kill you?”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
<Sorry.>

He scratched his head, seeking to simplify a long story as much as possible.

<Because I’m a Sithspawn. A Sith Doppelganger, to be exact. See?>

Covering his face with his hands, he lifted them a moment later to reveal an exact replica of the Zeltron's own visage, down to the way her hair fell over her missing eye. Unfortunately, he didn’t bother to change anything from the neck down, which meant that she was treated to the abominable (but mercifully brief) sight of her head attached to a man’s body before he shifted back, ending the game of polymorphic peek-a-boo.

<Dagon was the one who found me and brought me to the Jedi. He said they could help me, but nothing worked. Once they realized they couldn’t do anything about the taint of the Dark Side inside me… once I realized it… I gave up trying to be like them. I decided to just be myself. They didn’t like that, and I guess they’re right, but I don’t know what else to do.>

Should she have peered at him with the Force, she would see that his presence was tainted by the Dark Side. It was almost like a smell that clung to him, seeping out of his pores—and no amount of soul-scrubbing was ever going to get rid of it.

 
“O SHI-“

Staring at a mirror image of herself, on Dagon’s body no less, had startled Yula to the point of recoil. Dropping the bag, she hopped a pace back, shoulders scrunched and arms reflexively raised across her torso.

The friction momentarily drained from her visage when Not-Dagon changed back into Semi-Dagon. Shoulders and arms uncoiling and going limp for a moment, she first looked to the discarded bag, then back to him as the explanation came.

“That…does sound like Dagon, yeah.” Shrugging in admission, a tired smile tilted the firm line of her lips. His savior complex was palpable, and Yula let him know it every chance she got. It was so characteristically Dagon to try and save every soul that he could, and even though she gave him chit for it, it was one of his most endearing qualities.

“Hey, now…” Creeping forward, she tentatively moved to place a hand on his shoulder in some measure of comfort. Even if he’d pull away from her touch, she’d be able to sense the miasma of the dark around him from their close proximity. It wasn’t particularly concentrated or intense, but it was present like the smell of garlic on her skin when she ate too much garlic.

“I know what it’s like to not fit in to something like…” She waved a hand. “The Jedi. You got a name, kid?”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
Kai’s eyes widened when she dropped the bag, as though he half expected it to explode on impact with the ground. But all that happened was the bag landed in a puddle, soaking it with muddy rainwater.

Before he could reach down and pick it up, the pink lady stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shy away from the touch. Aeris Lashiec Aeris Lashiec had made a similar comforting gesture the first time they met, though she had asked him if it was all right first. Afterwards she said that it felt like hugging a bag of sand… whatever that meant.

<Kai,> he replied. <But I was given that name by the Sith… I didn’t have a name before that. Didn’t need one…>

His brow furrowed. This was something he had never considered, that even his name was one of the changes he had undergone against his will. Troubled by this revelation, his gaze drifted downward, and again he took notice of the bag lying at his feet. Stooping, he picked it up, only for the waterlogged paper to tear under the weight of the bag’s contents. Something wrapped in plastic spilled out, splashing in the puddle. He scooped it out of the water and held it up.

<Is it candy?> The wrapper was that of a popular candy brand, at least. But when he opened it, the contents did not match the brand. Kai would know, he was a candy connoisseur. Before anyone could stop him, he put some of it in his mouth just to be sure.

<Hey—this is spice!>

 
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“Hey don’t-“

Yula reached to shoo Kai’s hand away from the puddle, and by extension, the suspicious package. The Zeltron was too slow, and she watched with open-mouthed horror as the shapeshifter popped the contents like candy.

<Hey—this is spice!>

“NO!” She commanded loudly, thwacking the back of Kai’s head with her hand out of sheer reflex.

Dagon was always saving people, and he’d be disappointed if she got one of his wards high. Hell, he might even think that she had encouraged Kai to take a hit of whatever it was he just consumed.

“Dag’s gonna kill me for this…!” Now she was grabbing Kai by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth as best she could.

“Why did you do that? Who goes around eating things strangers give them??”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
Kai’s head jerked forward when Yula hit him, guileless eyes wide. His shoulders climbed almost up to his ears, afraid she would hit him again, but instead she grabbed him and shook him, screaming like a maniac.

<I just wanted to see what it was! I can’t get high off of it! Or poisoned!> Having explained himself, he hoped she would stop jerking him around before his eyes rolled back into his head. <Okay good, okay fine?>

He still had the spice in his mouth. Without the intoxicating effects to impede a proper flavor assessment, it tasted sort of like cinnamon chewing gum.

 
Yula shook Kai harder, incensed by the fact that her forceful smack to the back of his head did not dislodge the tablet of spice from his mouth.

It was a miracle that his words even penetrated through her panic, and the Zeltron stopped throttling him long enough to blink owlishly at the sithspawn.

“So you…decide to eat it?” Like a toddler? Surely there were better ways to identify mysterious components. Eating them…was certainly quicker. And dangerous. Although, perhaps not that dangerous for someone like Kai, who still seemed -relatively- sober. That thought still didn’t sit well with Yula.

“Spit it out.” She commanded, pointing to the same puddle where the bag had landed earlier. Regardless of whether or not he did, she’d grab his wrist. “We’d better not stick around in case your friend comes back.”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
“So you… decide to eat it?”

<Yeah. I can eat all kinds of stuff without it hurting me.> He sounded quite proud of this fact. <The only time I ever threw something up, it was because someone told me I should throw up, because ‘you’re not supposed to eat an entire watermelon whole like that’. But that happened a long time ago, when I was a lot more susceptible to suggestion...>

Kai finally relented and spat the spice out. He did not like being jerked around, and it showed in the petulant, vaguely hurt expression on his face as she grabbed his wrist and started tugging him along.

They didn’t get very far before Kai’s “friend” the Ithorian made an abrupt reappearance.

“I am sorry, I think there has been some mistake,” he said, a translation device converting his words into Basic. “You are not Dagon Kaze, but you look very much like him in dark places.” He gestured to the spice. “That was for him.”

<Why were you giving drugs to Dagon?> Kai asked. <Is it for a case? What was he going to use them for? Who are you? Is Dagon on drugs?>

Hammerhead eyes stared unblinkingly at Kai as he gestured and emoted like an excited mime. The doppelganger probably would have figured out that the Ithorian couldn’t hear his telepathy—eventually—just not before Yula had a chance to speak.

 
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At last, he spat out the tablet of spice. Half dissolved, but it was out. Kai was a lucid as could be despite ingesting around enough of the stuff to put her out, but it was the principle. Which was saying a lot, because Yula wasn’t a particularly principled person.

Her relief was short lived when the Ithorian came skittering back.

“You are not Dagon Kaze, but you look very much like him in dark places.” He gestured to the spice. “That was for him.”

Kai’s frantic pantomime was met with silence from both the Zeltron and the sleazy Ithorian. Yula scratched at her head, trying to figure out what was going on for a second. It didn’t quite hit her that Kai’s unspoken words wouldn’t register to the newcomer.

Anyway, this was moving too slow for her.

“You did what?!

She grabbed the Ithorian by the lapel of his jacket, hoisting the alien against the shuttered side of a building. He was larger than her, but the adrenaline of anger surged through her muscles, also the Force.

“To hurt him? To frame him? You were going to do what hammerhead, what?!

Just like with Kai, the fists curled into his shirt rattled him back and forth as if she were trying to shake a satisfactory answer from him.

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
The Ithorian didn’t like being shaken around any more than Kai did.

“He asked for it,” he managed to reply, the translator’s voice much calmer than his real voice sounded. “I don’t know why. Please let go of me.”

<He is on drugs?!> Kai sounded crushed.

While the Ithorian couldn’t understand him, he inadvertently answered the question, the robotic translator’s voice now laced with dry profanity. “I thought his request sounded sketchy. Dagon Kaze is a fething cop, isn’t he? So this is why they made me do the dropoff here. Son of a schutta, I’ve been used. Oh chit, let go of me you crazy pink skank, you, motherfething harpy.”

He managed to fight his way to freedom from her manicured hands, and with a final insult that was translated into a rather droll-sounding, “May all your children breach and die,” the Ithorian took off running.

Kai looked uncertainly between the fleeing Ithorian and Yula, then sprinted after him.

 
Dagon being on drugs was the last possibility in Yula’s mind. At this point, she didn’t know about the stay-awake pills he’d hid from her, and figured he just had the stamina to stay awake for days on end.

Either way, Kai immediately deflated at the idea and it broke Yula’s heart.

The distraction was enough for the Ithorian to squirm his way out of her hold, his insults finally landing on her ears. She’d heard it all before, but still.

Hey!She roared after the retreating alien, just before Kai took off down the street after him. Yula wiped the surprise from her face and jogged to try and keep up, but the sithspawn was faster than her. She could see the Ithorian though, and what was more—she could see the criss-cross of wires and durasteel beams bridging between the roofs of two tenement buildings in the distance.

Skidding to a halt, the Zeltron reached out towards the cables, seizing the current that ran through them and ripped the lines down into the Ithorian’s path. They speared into the ground like spikes, sparks rippling over the exposed edges that were still connected to the transformer. His route would be blocked off now; a snarl of strangely stiff, electrified wires blocking one way, and a brain-eating sithspawn and angry Zeltron standing opposite to him.

“Take all that garbage you said back!”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 
“Feth off,” the Ithorian’s exclamation was dutifully translated, the crude phrase echoing down the street.

Kai caught up and pounced on him, landing on the hammerhead’s back and wrapping his arms around his thin neck. The Ithorian screamed, thrashing wildly, but Kai clung fast to him. Both crashed to the ground.

In moments like these, it was easy for Kai to justify his hunger. The Ithorian was, if not a criminal himself, then involved with criminal activities, and he knew something Kai wanted to know. Needed to know. While the pair grappled together on the wet pavement, Kai dug into the Ithorian’s mind, feeding on his memories.

That is, until the electrified power lines suddenly crisscrossed the pathway far too close for comfort. Kai leapt away from the sparking cables like a startled cat, putting distance between himself and it. Crouching on the ground, blue eyes wide, he was both terrified and weirdly fascinated by the pillars of lightning before him.

Roused from his stupor, the Ithorian howled, his horror and distress visible, if not audible. “What the feth was that? What the feth did you do to me, you chit?”

The mesmerism of the electricity broken, Kai reluctantly glanced over his shoulder at Yula, cringing.

 
She’d been too slow, or Kai had been faster than anticipated- either way, the sithspawn and Ithorian were rolling on the ground by the time she’d brought the power lines down. Too close for comfort, if the look in Kai’s eyes was anything to go by.

“You think I did that?” She balked, gesturing flamboyantly to the snarl of stiffened cables that had lanced into the ground, crackling with vestiges of electricity before dying away. “I just stopped to catch my breath, geeze.”

Yula’s destructive use of technopathy had the unfortunate side effect of causing a power outage on the block, as evidenced by the chorus of groans and occasional alien curses drifting along the street.

She crouched down to the Ithorian who was still reeling from the incident and poked at him with one finger. The fingernail slid forward, growing outward by several inches and tapering to a razor point that rested against the Ithorian’s neck.

“Uhh..what did you do to him, Kai?”

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 

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