Star Wars Man Cubs

As ever, thank you to Fins and Sirak for co-operating to get Sirak's post up.

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[b]SirakRomar, DarthXan318, JediMasterAnne, Penguinator-176, NickLitYouAFlame[/b]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj17uoJLIV8][i]Tython[/i][/link]
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They landed a few hundred yards outside the estate. A herd of motts, grazing in the field-turned-landing zone, hurried away as the Citadel descended. The vast vessel clamped itself to the ground, causing a not inconsiderable tremor. The landscape of Tython had already been altered by the new arrivals.

The [i]Storyteller[/i] and the Binary Brigade shuttle arrived in far more understated fashion, drifting lazily ahead of their enormous companion before powering down in front of the estate's central steps.

The boarding ramps lowered. Bakara and Gallia, having only just re-united with their sister Elora, were first out, followed by Elora herself, Mischa, Elisthia, Abu Nuwas and LOU-1E. A warm sun and a cool breeze greeted them, and a pleasant perfume tickled their nostrils.

Taka and his Twi'lek troupe left the Binary Brigade shuttle next. Taka gave a small nod to the humans before gazing up at the estate with an air of mild disdain. It was apparently his home, but he didn't seem hugely enthusiastic to see it again.

Meanwhile, a colourful throng of beings were streaming out of the Citadel, of all shapes and sizes. Duros, Twi'leks, Aqualish, Devaronians, Herglic, Whiphids, Boltrunians, Defel, Quarren, Chadra-Fan. Some of the crowd had been attendees at the Masquerade Ball, some had been prisoners within the Dome. Others seemed to be new additions, as if appeared from thin air. Perhaps they had been held in other areas of the Citadel; it was very large, after all.

The group was led by the Noghri trio- Scarskin, Grimgrip and Vilevein- and by the Man Cubs' old friend Bagheera.

"Children!" he exclaimed upon seeing Bakara and Gallia with their siblings. He rushed over, arms extended for an embrace. "I heard your reunion over the ship intercom. I can't believe you're here! Did Hathi send you?"
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[hr]

[b]Sarge221[/b]

[i]Approaching Togoria, Aboard the[/i] Reptilia
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"We have weaponss," confirmed Malacoda. "Thisz one keeps the sship stocked at all times. The Togorians may not let us carry heavy weaponry out, but we should at leasst be able to wield light armss."

The Barabel then rifled in a compartment at the side of the pilot's chair, and moments later his hand emerged grasping a large golden crown. He handed it to Susul. It was adjustable in size, and a series of tiny holo-projectors had been fitted around the inside rim.

"Thisz one's people call thiz a Spectrum Hood," explained Malacoda. "Itsz purpose is to alter perception of colour. We use it for camouflage when hunting."

Indeed the device worked as described. When Susul placed it on his head and pressed the switch, a violet light streamed across the contours of his body, making his skin appear to be a light purple shade.

"Adjusst it to light green," instructed Malacoda. "It iss not a perfect dizguise, but we may be able to pass you off as a [link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandallian_Giant]Mandellian Giant[/link]. You already have the height, and if you have the correct sskin tone az well, the Togorians will not assk quesstions."
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[hr]

[b]darthramza[/b]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTB407uapcg][i]Eastern Wing, Bunker, Hoth[/i][/link]
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Following Vic's instructions, his Togorian escort approached cautiously. The singing figure noticed their arrival, and looked up, throwing back his hood. He was a Rodian. His eyes were bulging and red-veined, and his skin was sweaty. His lips were twitching. He looked like a diseased rodent.

"Did the Red Man send you?" he asked. He fell to his knees, clasping his green palms together. "Tell him I'm having a [i]party[/i] and am sorry I didn't invite him! I'M SORRY! I'm SORRY!"

He began sobbing. The Togorians exchanged inscrutable glances. Tarhunt stepped forward, lifting the hoods off e

 

IC: Averagus Aniad II - Son of Theseus
The Obsidian Tower, Criton's Point

The words yet echoed, not in sound but in mind, where they rolled like syrup on a tongue. Tasted, sticking, sweet, and yet without substance or nurishment. Yet more disturbingly was the fading of the world around him, the bluring of the stones, the art of glass whose scenes played something he doubted would ever come to pass beyond imaginings.

He is killing us! yet raged the darkened mirror of his soul. And of reput but silently did he in mind and voice make answer - "No."

He looked once more upon their meeted claimed master of all future fates, and present state included. No, this thing had nothing to gain the life to drain, unlike Cato nothing could it gather but another soul for whatever fires it yet gathered. No import would he make to such a fate, and deigned not to be taken from his saddle the other so clearly saw.

"My curse is to be immaterial, not unlike yourself. If not the meeting of our horizons shells yet soon part, forever this meeting might we both never depart. So only this yet will I ask you, in hopes we both escape our shared gravity. What inroads know you of crossing space, time, and such as we with world so living?" with rushed voice, and hovering back yet a step further he split his attention glancing back and forth. From spectre to the fading world, and back again. Yet hoping by fleeing after the answer is given yet to cling unto reality despite immortality and insubstantial matter within that realm.

TAG: Winged

 

IC: Mischa, Child of Poseidon
Tython

Mischa trotted down the landing ramp behind her siblings, looking around the world with interest and delight.

She had only ever been on three planets before this (not counting the Netherworld, which was really a different plane of existence altogether). Alderaan would forever be home, of course, but she had also died there; Myrkr was a dark blur in her memory, her Sight not yet discovered, and Prakith had been a blasted wasteland. By contrast, Tython was beautiful even through the colourless lens of the Force. There was plenty of life - even discounting the hundreds of refugees from Prakith - and the estate itself was artfully designed, nestled comfortably at the mouth of a valley with its back to a lake. Or perhaps even a sea! It was hard to tell from here. Mischa was still discovering the limits of her Sight, and apparently one of them was range, just like ordinary vision.

The mountains and lakes beyond Taka's estate also looked hauntingly familiar, but Mischa couldn't imagine why.

Bagheera rushed forward, arms outstretched, a question on his lips. Mischa turned to him, grinning, although come to think of it, Bakara hadn't really explained how he and Gallia had found them. Not that it really mattered to Mischa. It was enough that they were here.

TAG: Peng, Nick, Anne, Sirak, Wing

 

Elora
Tython, Estate

Once the welcome was over, as unspectecualr as she had expected it to be . . . she turned her mind back to the mission. the task she had before her. Bring her people to safety. And her people were no longer defined by races or borders of culture. She had accepted responsibility. Her joy or grief about her family would not intervene with that. Or people would die. And she had suffered too much, to let that happen again.

Walking over to Taka, she was now in full weaponry. The sword, the two daggers, one of them the one that had tasted Kroni Kahns blood, the holdout, the two guns. Ready for everything. In her arms the rifle. "You look worried, Taka. Anything you want to tell me before I tell people to make themselves a new home here?" Elora asked and looked at them. Checking for the others, that they were still there she tried to make out familiar faces among the circus.

Tag: Crew, Winged

 

OOC: Away again. Will post if I can.

Bakara
The Tython Estate

Bakara stretched upon exiting the ship. His lungs were glad for the abundance of clean air, though his lungs hated him yet for insisting upon wearing the helmet. The surface closest to his face stank with the cloying scent of sweat, and he began to ponder getting some other form of disguise. A mask, perhaps - something that let him breathe, but something that could act as his face.

He glanced at Elora's impressive amount of weaponry. He doubted very much that much weaponry could be effectively fielded by one person. Hathi's teachings still rang true, as flawed as he found some of them. Stick with one weapon that you can adapt to multiple purposes. It worked, most of the time. Specialization was rarely required for guerilla combat.

Still the helmet itched.

Bakara was about to speak to Mischa before Bagheera's question cut off his train of thought. After another lungful of sweat-stained air, he turned to the old Cathar and answered.

"No. Hathi's alive and well," At least, when we last saw him, "we found you after an encounter with a Togorian - Steam." He avoided mentioning Buldeo and the Troop's business on Nar Shaddaa. Especially Dvakvar. No reason to even think of remembering that. He suppressed a shudder. He had questions about that himself, but they could wait.

He turned to Mischa momentarily. "We'll talk about some proper training for you - Elisthia and Elora, too. I'll teach you how to shoot." He paused. Get it over with. "And you should look away for a moment - I can't stand this helmet anymore." He tried saying it loud enough for all to hear, but in reality, who would care? They'd seen his face filled with blood; surely that was preparation enough!

As he pulled off the helmet, though, it became clear that the aftermath was by far worse than the initial damage. Twisting and etching their way across his face, they'd taken on some strange life of their own - as though the claws and teeth had been tainted with a virus that had continued to work after the attack had finished. This was of course nonsense; the scars were unmoving and fixed in place, save for when the muscles beneath moved as he spoke normally. A half-scowl formed on the right side of his face, the lip pulled up and down in odd spaces. The eye seemed to squint, which was to be expected. Still, the worst was the tangled mess of scars that wove over his face and neck. The left side was virtually untainted, and served as stark contrast to his mangled right.

He didn't much want to look at Mischa, nor any of his siblings, with this face. Instead he focused on Bagheera, trying to keep an affable look on his face but never shaking the half-scowl.

Tag: Xan, Sirak, Anne, NIck, Winged

 

OOC: Longer break than I ever wanted. It?s good to be back.

IC: Jin, Son of Perseus
Sicarii?s Villa, Ko Vari

The evening thus far was tolerable. Jin might even allow that it was going well. This was enough the case that he didn?t need to think of himself as powering through the conclusion of his four part introduction to his team. It was certainly the case next to some of the unevenness earlier on. He couldn?t really know how his speech had been received, but the run had gone well. It was somewhat undercut, though, by the later session at the shooting range. He?d struggled just enough to hope they?d give him credit for things like earnestness, and excuse part of his performance as the limitations of his species. He was at once too self-critical and demanding to acknowledge that the latter might truly have been operative.

Both, though, had ultimately been a part of the half dozen conditions he?d try to throw up to ensure this moment. Working together built camaraderie of circumstance. Most people welcomed an invitation to talk about themselves. When and if conversation went dry, a group of genuinely hungry, tired people could at least be counted on to eat. So Jin sat, arm sore from absorbing the recoil of a blaster rifle for the past few hours, and watched the dinner play out before him with some level of satisfaction. Taxed joints rested on feathered pillows, parched lips met succulent, tender meat.

Eventually conversation circled from general banter to a recounting of their life stories. A term some of his new crew applied more liberally than others. Jin put off trying to digest those interesting tidbits from the stories? telling and what was told; he was up next, after all. He?d opted for something terse. He was born in the twilight of his race, he explained, to one of the few enclaves tasked with contacting the outside. And so he?d found himself off-world when the final Rakatan invasion struck. Survival had been the only consideration. Using shipboard stasis, they?d charted ventures into deep space, far between traveled routes, and tried to outwait their opponents. They?d wait just long enough for either the stasis or general life support to come near failure, then try to re-supply discretely. It honestly only worked a few cycles, but it consumed the better part of his late childhood and early maturity. The last time he?d awoken, he?d done so alone. Unable to make things function on his own, he headed for the nearest friendly world. Not so much because he?d expected allies, as because they?d hold out against the Rakata the longest. He needed, now as ever, not to be shot on sight.

So he?d hoped to gloss over his own life. If the story strained credulity at a few points, it left the most valuable truths well-protected. And, he hoped, there were enough genuine points there to be convincing. As if to avert any immediate inquiries, he finished: ?Well then, I?m glad we?ve all started to know one another. After we conclude this evening, we?ll continue in the evenings for the foreseeable future. As for our days?I?ve asked Rusudan to speak with Sicarii about acquiring our first job for us. Until then, we?ll continue training exercises.?

He knew the dinner would progress for some time afterward. A few more crucial moments would probably manage to spring up, too. But for the moment, this was all he intended. So like the street performances he?d watched intently from his mother?s arm, the scene faded to black irrelevance in his mind, even as the actors kept playing through it, oblivious.

TAG: Winged

 

IC: Mischa, Child of Poseidon
Tython

"Hey," Mischa protested, turning back around to face Bakara with an uncharacteristically serious look on her young face.

Now she understood why he hadn't taken the helmet off - and why he had asked about her Sight earlier. She'd only had it for a few days, but already it felt like she had had it her whole life (and perhaps she had, if her return to Reality counted as the start of an entirely new lifetime) and it was sometimes hard to remember that others might not understand how the world looked like through the lens of the Force. She probably hadn't done a very good job of explaining it earlier, either. It was like trying to explain breathing.

Point being, she hadn't put much thought into the presence of the helmet, given that she could See him just fine with or without it. Nor had she put much thought into his scars, because things like that seemed so vanishingly unimportant when you could perceive the glow of life behind it.

But she should have thought. If she had, she might have realised earlier that Bakara had kept the helmet on for much the same reason she wore a blindfold, only she could brazen her way through life without ever taking it off. She understood how he must feel - and yet - Mischa felt awkwardly helpless, wanting to cheer her brother up, not knowing how.

She decided to just take a page out of Elora's book and hug him again. Bakara was staring studiously ahead, which made it easy to cross the short distance between them and throw her arms around him.

"You're our brother," she said earnestly. "That's what matters."

TAG: Peng, Nick, Anne, Sirak, Wing

 

IC: Elisthia, Child of Hermes
Tython Estate

She had steeled herself when she saw Bakara starting to take off his helmet?she had heard him warn them to look away, but surely the scars could not be worse than seeing the raw, bloody wounds he had been sporting a year earlier.

But when Elisthia finally saw her brother?s face for the first time in over a year, she was still a bit startled by the extent of the damage?no, it wasn?t as bad as seeing the blood and ruined flesh, but somehow, the scarring looked worse than she had thought it would. The entire right side of his face was a mess of puckered ridges of skin?thankfully, the left seemed untouched, which softened the blow slightly. Even then, it seemed to Elisthia that her brother was ashamed of his scars?he must be, if he did not want them to see, but Elisthia wouldn?t look away; that would only make Bakara feel worse, she thought.

At the same time, she herself felt ashamed?gods, why had she just stood there? Up until now, Alderaan had felt like a lifetime ago, but now she realized how short a year really was. Why hadn?t she done something? Had she or any of the others been attacked instead of him, Bakara would have come to their defense, why hadn?t she tried to help him? Mischa had even wanted to help, but Elisthia had held her back.

Stop, she told herself, trying to banish the guilty feeling from her mind. You were scared, you were trying to protect her.

But the nagging doubts in the back of her mind had a rebuttal: A lot of good it did her. Shere Khan still got her, didn?t he?

But I got her back.

You had help.

Good thing, too. Otherwise Irkalla would have gotten us both, trapped us in the Netherworld, and then where would we be?

To that, those nagging doubts had no response, and Elisthia shut out such negative thoughts, returning her attention to her big brother. Mischa had approached him and hugged him, saying earnestly, "You're our brother. That's what matters."

Elisthia nodded in agreement, smiling at Bakara and patting his shoulder. Finally looking away from her brother?s face, her gaze shifted to Bagheera, and she immediately noted somone was missing. ?Where?s Bhairavi?? she asked the Cathar.

Tag: Peng, Nick, Xan, Sirak, Winged

 

Susul Damasca, Son of Heracles
Aboard the Reptila, Over Togoria

"What's a Mandellian Giant?" Susul couldn't help but question aloud though his tone hinted to not really expecting an explanation. As he adjusted the hood like Malacoda suggested, the visible skin that he could see at his arms switched to the desired green coloring.

Big and green I guess, the human reflected as he raised an arm in front of his face to inspect. He curled his fingers into a fist, flexed them, and not for the first time did Susul once again feel daunted at the size increase that had overtaken him. While he guessed that his strength had been increased along with his size, he could never help but feel as if he was way too big and much too slow. Just navigating through the corridors of Malacoda's ship proved to be a bit of a tight fit at times.

But that's why he was going to Togoria wasn't he? To hopefully find some sort of cure that would drop him back to normal size? He'll have to hope for the best.

"So how about those weapons?" Susul asked. Hopefully he wouldn't prove to be too big for one of those as well.

TAG: Winged

 

Vic, Son of Hades
Eastern Wing, Bunker, Hoth

"So what you're saying is the cake is a lie?" Vic replied, deadpan. Oh, this fellow was madder than a hatter, to be sure, but there was a certain charm, however maniacal, to his antics, and charm went a long way towards ingratiating yourself to Vicious No-Fang. "Just try and calm down, we're not here to hurt you. Who are you? Who's this red fellow you keep referring to?"

Even as he said this, his hand hovered just slightly above his holster. One humored a madman, but one did not trust a madman.

TAG: Winged

 

A quick note to inform you all that I won't be able to update again until the 4th of July, for personal reasons. Thanks for your understanding.

 

OOC: Sorry, no post today - back to work until Thursday.

 

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[b]SirakRomar, DarthXan318, JediMasterAnne, Penguinator-176, NickLitYouAFlame[/b]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj17uoJLIV8][i]Tython[/i][/link]
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Bagheera winced noticeably as Bakara removed his helmet. It had been Bagheera who had carried the boy into his ship after the injuries had been inflicted, over a year previously. The pain of the memory was clear in the old Cathar's eyes as he looked upon the remnant of that horrific night.

"You're our brother," said Mischa earnestly, throwing her arms around her older brother. "That's what matters."

Elisthia nodded in agreement, and for a moment they were a family again, albeit a somewhat dysfunctional one- Elora had walked away to speak to Taka, and Gallia did not seem keen to participate in the conversation.

?Where?s Bhairavi?? asked Elisthia, turning her attention back to Bagheera.

"She's nursing Sanjar aboard the Citadel," he said. "They both need rest. They'll be out soon."

Just a few short yards away, Taka stood with his Twi'lek troupe, gazing disdainfully up at his family estate.

"You look worried," said Elora to him. "Anything you want to tell me before I tell people to make themselves a new home here?"

Taka opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a booming voice from the estate steps.

"WELCOME ONE AND ALL!"

A tubby old Farghul was walking down towards the crowds, and his voice carried so loudly that for a moment everyone was silent. His arms outstretched towards the new arrivals. He was dressed in plain brown hooded robes, and had an enormous, toothy grin on his feline face. He did not look like the occupant of a mansion.

"My father," muttered Taka under his breath. "I was hoping he might be dead by now."
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[b]Jabba-Wocky[/b]

[i]Sicarii's Villa[/i]
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Jin's new crew were almost under his thrall already. They listened rapt to his terse retelling of his past, receiving every detail with the gratitude of children at the feet of a foreign storyteller. He was a [i]Celestial[/i], after all. Rusudan and Nizam had seemed bemused on occasion though, particularly at mention of the Rakatan invasion, though they offered no comment save for appreciative murmurs once Jin was finished.

Over the next few days the crew proved eager to impress, showing off their expertise in their respective disciplines as often as Jin allowed them opportunity. Hunt seemed keen to establish himself as Jin's de facto right-hand, with Rusudan content to cede the role whenever her particular skills were not required. Nizam was gruff and uncommunicative for the most part, but obeyed all instructions without hesitation, and was undoubtedly an excellent pilot.

The Ortolans barely spoke at all until the fifth evening.

As the crew sat round at the table, Aghori, the mad-eyed member of the trio, suddenly blurted out a most curious question:

"Master Jin, I likes you a lot even though you is human. Is you a diffrent human from the ones who killed daddy?"

Silence. Rusudan and Hunt were both surprised and confused, judging by their facial expressions. Nizam kept on eating. Both Tisiphone and Lothar shot angry glances at their oblivious brother, but the words had been spoken and it was now left to Jin to interpret and interrogate.
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[b]Sarge221[/b]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TrxhV545Qw][i]Approaching Togoria, Aboard the[/i] Reptilia[/link]
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Night was falling. The [i]Reptilia[/i] broke through black clouds, and soared above a sprawling forest-city. It was winter season, and snow-crested watchtowers rose past the trees. Large clearings had been claimed from the forest, and within each one were huts and stone temples. In the biggest of the clearings sat an imposing pyramid, frosted over so completely that it looked to be made of ice.

They headed towards a landing zone, and the snow on the ground melted beneath the ship?s thrusters as it descended. It landed with a muffled thump, and Malacoda and Susul swiftly disembarked, carrying the weapons they had selected from the ship?s arsenal.

 

IC: Averagus Aniad II - Son of Theseus
???Within the Ether???

To roam? I do not know if I like this viper's lair, or the thought of even my shell twice shunned, once son made it a consort keep!

Careful, or in rhyme you might yet stick.

His spirit bound yet scowled at him whilst he took in the words of this spirit king. Relieved at the temporary nature of this change, and heartened that more could he do with this form perhaps then he knew. Though not yet so to the point of disillusion, to forgetting the knowledge so imparted if even by a disillusioned tree.

"Yet would I agree if something more than a guide, for I have time and guides are merely to hasten a journey. Perhaps for fate and troubled times, certain boons of my choosing within your powers can be given further in time. If yet a yes from you, then yes from me." slightly yet he turned his head.

You deal with a devil most fully. Came the familiar rebuke.

Eventually all things end. What is an age with a devil known, compared with a universe unknown and unwelcoming?

TAG: Winged

 

Bakara, Child of Hephaestus
Tython

It went without saying that the situation turned from relaxed to awkward the moment Taka's father appeared. Bakara's instincts were turned back on, but he remained calm and decided to watch how this played out. A cursory scan of the Farghul gave the young man a quick assessment with which to work. Robes - monk? Hermit? Something else? Madman?

Bakara was still armed, so the last option worried him little. Still, he made a mental note of Elsie and Mischa's respective positions.

He glanced at Taka to gauge his reaction.

Tag: Winged, Xan, Anne, Sirak, Nick

 

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[b]Mitth_Fisto[/b]

[i]???[/i]
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"Very well," agreed Irkalla. "Your first boon, then. I will transport you to a place where I wish you to act as my spy. In future, you will have to master this ability yourself. But for now..."

The Rakatan disappeared.

Grey smoke swirled around Averagus, and took shape within his vision. Wispy trails intertwined, forming the vaguest outlines of a room. Four walls, a ceiling. Then the smoke drew a chair in front of him, and a bed, and a table.

Then the smoke traced out the shape of two figures on the bed, one of them much smaller than the other.

And then as if a curtain had opened, light streamed into the picture, illuminating each of the smoke-creations and imbuing them with colour and definition. Averagus found himself within a small white bedchamber, facing a female being who was nursing an infant. Both mother and child belonged to some unfamiliar feline species- were these the Togorians that the Gorgon had spoken of?

The child opened his eyes as it fed, and looked directly at Averagus. The mother did not take any notice of him, but the child seemed to somehow be aware that there was now another presence in the room.
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Jin, Son of Perseus
Sicarii?s Villa, Ko Vari

There was a palpable change in the atmosphere. Save Aghori, the Ortolans faces were fixed with obvious discomfort. What were they hiding? As much as Nizam? The Nikto?s guarded manner seemed particularly disquieting at the moment. Which of "his crew? could he really trust at all?

The last thing he noticed was his own reaction. He?d straightened in his chair, pulse quickened. He leaned just slightly forward, towards the table. What registered at the suggestion of other survivors was not hope, but rage. A bitter, torrential, just concealed fury. It was the only possible reaction to such bald lies. Because lies or mistakes, what Aghori said was impossible. He knew where his people were, and he knew were the Ortolan were not. So was this baiting or beguilement?

He caught himself. They hadn?t wanted him to know. Then, too, there was his predecessor who?d never returned. How long had Sicarii been at this game of sponsoring refugees? Why had he been expected in the first place? Broken phrases and strained Basic were going to be his first clues to unraveling it all.

Finally, just as the silence was stretching to the verge of discomfort, Jin asked, ?When did your father die? How did it happen??

TAG: Winged

 

Jabba-Wocky

Sicarii's Villa

"Our father was killed over a year ago," interjected Tisiphone. "By criminals, a long way from here. Not humans. My brother is very confused."

"Yes," growled Lothar, placing a large hand on Aghori's shoulders. "He stupid. Stupid boy."

His grip looked very tight, and now Aghori stayed silent.

---

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Vic, Son of Hades
Eastern Wing, Bunker, Hoth

The light's had finally given up the ghost. Some beings might have found that somewhat ominous, but Vicious No-Fang was not some being, and he was certainly not about to lose his composure over some faulty wiring. He had more pressing concerns - namely, the red dot which had just appeared next to the structure labeled turbolift. Suddenly the phrase "Red Man" made a hell of a lot more sense.

The man cub glanced at his guards. "I think we're wasting our time on this one. If anyone here is an actual danger to us, it's this fellow right here." He pointed at the crimson marker the rodian was indicating for added emphasis. His grin was the same meaningless mask he always bore, but in the dim glow from the holoscreen, it seemed to take on an almost mischievous quality.

"Which is exactly why we're going to go pay our respects to the guest of honor... though I think we would do him ill to approach him directly, seeing as we're not the host here." His index finger traced a circle around the two structures on the left side of the screen. "Now that we have an inkling of the layout of this place, it should be a simple matter to observe the direction the "Red Man" moves in... and then circle around the other way to surprise him. Party-goers love surprises."

He withdrew his hand from the screen, and unholstered his blaster. He flipped it around once in midair before catching it again. Perhaps he'd get some training with the weapon after all.

"Let's just hope we don't need to present our gifts."

TAG: Winged

 

Jin, Son of Perseus
Sicarii's Villa, Ko Vari

Their charade was cracking. Apparent gullibility and open conflict both seeming unsuitable, Jin stalled. When he set his chalice back on the table, he said, "Of course. What system? So long as they have a franchise, vengeance might not be bad for business. Information on even vaguely human-looking species would be an asset too, given my need for discretion."

He did his best to sound both good-natured and insistent. A light jolt would do. He only hoped the tension broke in a way that was informative, rather than violent.

Tag: Winged

 

darthramza

Eastern Wing, Bunker, Hoth

"As you wish," replied Tarhunt. Arinna merely grunted, readying her weapons. All eyes turned towards the screen.

[image=http://img227.imageshack.us/img227/8185/hotheastwing2.jpg]

"Red Man's coming!" squealed the Rodian again, covering his head with his arms.

"He moves quickly," observed Tarhunt. "Lord Vicious, we are at your command."

---

[b]Jabba-Wocky[/b]

[i]Sicarii's Villa[/i]
[color=darkgreen]

It was Tisiphone who again spoke for the trio.

"The Pyria system," she replied after some hesitation. "The world is named Borleias. The...criminals...they are-"

But she stopped speaking. Nizam was holding out a hand to quiet her. She seemed relieved to be silenced.

"[i]Celestele[/i]," said Nizam, using an older form of Basic to address Jin, as was his wont, "I would talk with thee alone. Outside."

The Nikto rose to his feet. Rusudan moved as if to speak, but he interrupted her with an angry stream of Huttese.

[This is Sicarii's personal business, or I wouldn't bring it up! Stay in your seat and keep your beak shut.]

Rusudan did not respond aloud, but her eyes narrowed and fell towards the table.
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IC: Jin, Son of Perseus
Sicarii?s Villa, Ko Vari

What Jin could not grasp in words, he tried to read off faces. His own was by now fixed with a stern, wary expression. He pushed back from the table sharply, making his chair grate against the floor. He stood.

?Yes, that seems appropriate.? He offered laconically. ?Lead the way.?

TAG: Winged

 

Jabba-Wocky

Sicarii's Villa

Nizam did not talk as they left the room, and did not stop walking until they were halfway down the adjoining corridor. Then he turned, and folded his spiked arms, looking Jin up and down.

"There are to be no questions to the Ortolana," he growled. "These are the instructions of Sicarii. The fool child spoke out of turn. If thou must know something, then know only this: our first mission will be tomorrow. Details will await in thy bedchamber tonight."

 

IC: Mischa, Child of Poseidon
Tython

The living, Mischa reflected wryly, never seemed to truly grasp that death truly meant a final separation from the living. (Well, normally it was final, anyway.) As a Guide in the Netherworld, she had had met countless souls whose main regrets consisted of a variation of "I wish I made up with my loved one before death separated us". Sometimes, if their loved one had predeceased them and had remained in the Valley, they were able to find closure before their final end; if not, they could sometimes find comfort and solace from the Kaleidoscope or through the answers Irkalla gave. Sometimes, finding none, they took their regrets to the Voids.

She hence knew better than to believe Taka.

Anyway, his father seemed ordinary enough - his aura in the Force was pretty much like any other being. So Mischa smiled up at him and said, "Hello."

TAG: Wing, Anne, Sirak, Peng, Nick

 

Gallia Tern
Tython

Seeing all of her siblings again, and now all of these new faces, was deeply unsettling for Gallia. She was so far out of her element and had been standing, rather uncomfortably since disembarking from the ship.

Gallia took to watching her brothers and sisters, to see their reactions to the unfolding events - the discovery of Taka's wealth and his father. Bakara tensed very slightly, not enough for the untrained eye to notice. Mischa, on the other hand, was very forward. She had seemed to size up Taka's father almost immediately. Mischa smiled and greeted the aging feline.

Involuntarily, Gallia inched closer to Mischa. Partly to provide her sister support, in the off chance that this old cat was deceptive, but also to give herself a better position within the group. She moved towards the front, hinting at a dominance that she didn't quite feel. Gallia's hands were clenched at her sides, but the rest of her body was relaxed. She was waiting for something to assure her that all was according to plan.

Tag: Man Cubs on Tython, Winged