Gambler
Banned
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2009
- Messages
- 2,855
- Reaction score
- 0
"It must be my lucky day," Ryiek laughed. He sat on a bench, hands in his pockets, watching the dwindling crowd go by. Above him the sun gave off shadowed splotches of light, wavering as the daily traffic flew on by. He cut an odd figure in this scene with his tailored black suit. Even more so when one noticed his five o'clock shadow and the wrinkles in said suit. From the distance he could pass as one of the upper crust, but up close and personal he held himself like a man of the slums. Ah, how the smell of a bottom feeder lingered on years after he abstained himself of that title.
A man was walking through the park, cutting a figure of wealth and dignity. He had short, greying hair and a goatee trimmed to the perfect length. He screamed nobleman through his every gesture; the way he walked, the way he held his head, and even the people at which he would look suggested his wealthy upbringing. At worst he was the owner of a high end trading company. At best he was Coruscanti nobility. Either way it was most certainly not his lucky day.
Ryiek hopped to his feet and brushed some of the wrinkles out of his suit. It didn't really help, but it was more for appearances than anything else. He took his sweet time, waiting until relatively nobody was around other than the rich man before falling in step behind him. He made it as obvious as possible that he was following the man, going so far as to cough a few times to get his attention. No one ever accused him of being a professional.
It didn't take long for the man to realize that he was being followed. He knew what was going to happen next, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The best he could hope for was to find a crowd before Ryiek jumped him. What he didn't know was that this park was such a peaceful place. By the time the sun began to fall beneath the horizon most people cleared out, leaving only a few stragglers behind. Such a shame that the wealthy man happened to be one of the stragglers this night. Ryiek almost pitied him.
Rolling his eyes, he decided to end this little chase. "So gent, how have you been? I hope everything has been going well at work. You're a..." he trailed off, leaving a space for the man to fill in. While he talked he reached in to his pocket, bringing out a long barreled revolver. He spun the barrel a few times before clicking it in to place.
"Merchant," the wealthy man said, shifting his eyes nervously to the pistol. It was too late for him to run. All that was left to do was hope that Ryiek wouldn't kill him. Not all thugs were heartless. Some had families. Some were halfway decent people (too bad he didn't know that Ryiek wasn't a 'halfway decent' person).
"Really?" Ryiek asked, placing the muzzle of the revolver in front of the man's eyes. "I don't think that I believe you. A simple merchant wouldn't be able to afford such a high end suit, nor would he walk around, nose held above the general rabble. No, that's a trait reserved for someone a bit higher up," he paused. "Oh, I sound so eloquent!" He laughed. "But seriously, do you really think it's a good idea to lie to the guy holding a gun to your head? I mean come on! Even I was smart enough to say yes to whatever the guy said. Can't some wealthy guy do the same?"
"I was born in to a trading family. My father was a merchant that built his legacy from the ground up. I inherited it all on his deathbed and have done my whatever possible to earn a wealthy living," the man tried again. His hands quivered and he began to sweat.
Ryiek nodded. "I believe you. Good man. You think that you earn what you make, but you know what? You don't. We're a lot alike. I got lucky one night and made a fortune. You got lucky and inherited a dynasty. See? We both steal to keep our pockets full and do whatever we want to make our hearts content. The only difference is that I steal from snobby rich guys making more than me while you steal from honest working class men. So give me your money before I shoot you," he said, a pleasant smile on his face.
The man slowly reached in to his pockets, taking out his wallet. He didn't bother opening it up before handing it to Ryiek. Right now all he wanted was to go home and forget all about what happened. He wanted to soak in a hot bath and go to sleep in the comfort of his mansion. Whatever it took to get him there, he was willing.
"Thanks for the creds, bud. Run along now, and remember: never take the scenic route home after dark! Bad people might find you," Ryiek winked, pushing the man along. Without waiting to see his departing form, Ryiek turned on his heel and walked away. It was getting dark and he had real a real demon to face. Well, now that he had some good creds that weren't tagged on his credit chip he could make that two demons. "And here the politicians say that prostitution is illegal. Ha! I wonder how many of them see Lilly on a daily basis."
He whistled a tune as he walked through the park.
((OOC: This is OPEN, ladies and gents. There will be a nice, underlying plot coming soon, but first I want a few people to join in. The more the merrier! Leave your sanity at the door and enter the limelight! Enter stage left! Ryiek and friends!))
A man was walking through the park, cutting a figure of wealth and dignity. He had short, greying hair and a goatee trimmed to the perfect length. He screamed nobleman through his every gesture; the way he walked, the way he held his head, and even the people at which he would look suggested his wealthy upbringing. At worst he was the owner of a high end trading company. At best he was Coruscanti nobility. Either way it was most certainly not his lucky day.
Ryiek hopped to his feet and brushed some of the wrinkles out of his suit. It didn't really help, but it was more for appearances than anything else. He took his sweet time, waiting until relatively nobody was around other than the rich man before falling in step behind him. He made it as obvious as possible that he was following the man, going so far as to cough a few times to get his attention. No one ever accused him of being a professional.
It didn't take long for the man to realize that he was being followed. He knew what was going to happen next, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The best he could hope for was to find a crowd before Ryiek jumped him. What he didn't know was that this park was such a peaceful place. By the time the sun began to fall beneath the horizon most people cleared out, leaving only a few stragglers behind. Such a shame that the wealthy man happened to be one of the stragglers this night. Ryiek almost pitied him.
Rolling his eyes, he decided to end this little chase. "So gent, how have you been? I hope everything has been going well at work. You're a..." he trailed off, leaving a space for the man to fill in. While he talked he reached in to his pocket, bringing out a long barreled revolver. He spun the barrel a few times before clicking it in to place.
"Merchant," the wealthy man said, shifting his eyes nervously to the pistol. It was too late for him to run. All that was left to do was hope that Ryiek wouldn't kill him. Not all thugs were heartless. Some had families. Some were halfway decent people (too bad he didn't know that Ryiek wasn't a 'halfway decent' person).
"Really?" Ryiek asked, placing the muzzle of the revolver in front of the man's eyes. "I don't think that I believe you. A simple merchant wouldn't be able to afford such a high end suit, nor would he walk around, nose held above the general rabble. No, that's a trait reserved for someone a bit higher up," he paused. "Oh, I sound so eloquent!" He laughed. "But seriously, do you really think it's a good idea to lie to the guy holding a gun to your head? I mean come on! Even I was smart enough to say yes to whatever the guy said. Can't some wealthy guy do the same?"
"I was born in to a trading family. My father was a merchant that built his legacy from the ground up. I inherited it all on his deathbed and have done my whatever possible to earn a wealthy living," the man tried again. His hands quivered and he began to sweat.
Ryiek nodded. "I believe you. Good man. You think that you earn what you make, but you know what? You don't. We're a lot alike. I got lucky one night and made a fortune. You got lucky and inherited a dynasty. See? We both steal to keep our pockets full and do whatever we want to make our hearts content. The only difference is that I steal from snobby rich guys making more than me while you steal from honest working class men. So give me your money before I shoot you," he said, a pleasant smile on his face.
The man slowly reached in to his pockets, taking out his wallet. He didn't bother opening it up before handing it to Ryiek. Right now all he wanted was to go home and forget all about what happened. He wanted to soak in a hot bath and go to sleep in the comfort of his mansion. Whatever it took to get him there, he was willing.
"Thanks for the creds, bud. Run along now, and remember: never take the scenic route home after dark! Bad people might find you," Ryiek winked, pushing the man along. Without waiting to see his departing form, Ryiek turned on his heel and walked away. It was getting dark and he had real a real demon to face. Well, now that he had some good creds that weren't tagged on his credit chip he could make that two demons. "And here the politicians say that prostitution is illegal. Ha! I wonder how many of them see Lilly on a daily basis."
He whistled a tune as he walked through the park.
((OOC: This is OPEN, ladies and gents. There will be a nice, underlying plot coming soon, but first I want a few people to join in. The more the merrier! Leave your sanity at the door and enter the limelight! Enter stage left! Ryiek and friends!))
Last edited by a moderator: