- Joined
- Dec 13, 2016
- Messages
- 108
- Reaction score
- 100
OOC: Ay, gonna try this a little different. Story first, special snowflake crap on a separate comment below. Music's important, just click the track. Shouts to @Vosrik and @Soverin for helping me out with the aesthetic. Here's to the losers.)
[fancybox4=http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1R6pyT6sGu4/VJegw50NH9I/AAAAAAAACwU/GiSo6OWdV28/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2014-12-21%2Bat%2B9.40.11%2BPM.png]
Luck Be a Lady.
Track 1.
The Blue Kyber was as vibrant as ever.
Music blared through the Lounge's walls as bright lights shone overhead, as distinct hues of blue, red and green shifted throughout this hole in the wall, casting a lively hue onto its bar and dance floor. Musicians were at the stage, vibrantly playing their hearts out as the wood-polished dancefloor in the center of the Coruscanti Club swung to the beat. The bar at the back was as packed as it gets, with all save one stool taken by those who lived the nightlife. A sullustan bar-tender busily paced from corner to corner in the bar, taking drink orders as he went and serving them as he came. A vibrant green suit covered the Alien, as his oiled cheeks reflected the overhead lights, giving him a nearly surreal aesthetic.
The Sullustan's hips shifted left and right as he bobbed to the beat, approaching the furthermost corner of the bar. At the furthermost corner of the steel counter-top was seated a regular, indistinguishable figure. Every bloody day. Regardless of dress, regardless of weather - there he was. Same time, same place, same drink. The Sullustan turned towards the massive collection of bottles behind him, rapidly snatching a dark-brown bottle. The Sullustan's head continued to bob, taking the bottle and giving it a good shake, his hips swaying as he continued. With a twirl, he spun back to the counter-top, snatching an empty short glass. He tossed it into the air, giving it a vibrant spin as he uncorked the amber bottle.
The Sullustan's right hand shot outward, snatching the glass from the air and pouring exactly 1.52 (point oh-two 'cause he liked the guy) fluid ounces of Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn. His hands reached underneath the bar counter-top, snatching two cubes of ice and flicking them onto the glass like quarters. With a brief fizzle, the Corellian Bourbon came to life, its dark-brown liquid mixing with the ice to form a burgundy hue. The Sullustan shook his hip, and twirled across the floor towards the end of the counter, resting the short glass before the single-most ill-dressed man in the entire club. The Sullustan spoke,
"Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn, baby. Shaken - with style. Tell me, who was it this time, hm?" He threw his hands out by his sides in dramatic expo, fluttering his fat cheeks as he continued, "Talk to me, Ray! Life is short! Who caught the thunder?"
The man's hazel eyes shifted onto the vibrant sullustan with a raised brow, "Lars, I love you." He reached forward, grabbing the burgundy short-glass and taking a hefty swig, "And because I love you-" he paused, nodding his head and appreciating the flavor,"-Good shit. I'll tell you this." The left-most, bloody corner of his lips turned to a smirk, as he leaned forward, tapping the Sullustan's suit, "You're gonna take this home - and you're gonna burn it. The suit, the pants - burn it. Green ain't your color mate, and don't you go home and grab that god damn orange suit, either. I swear, everyday you look like a different sort of fruit." The man's arms went out by his sides, "What's on today's salad bar, boys? Ah...Key Lime Pie." Lars' cheeks fluttered in clear offense, "This is coming from the man who walks in here - everyday - looking like he just had reconstructive facial surgery." Ray shrugged his shoulders, "And who the hell says I didn't? Shit, I could use a nose job." His bloody nose twitched, as the glass of bourbon magically found its way to his lips once more.
Lars' large, black eyes lowered slightly onto his nose, an idea coming to mind. He quickly shook his head, flabbing his cheeks, "Damn it - you didn't answer me. Who'd you fight?" Ray held his burgundy glass before him, swirling it infront of his face. "Some nose-ring wearing swoop turd in the parking garage around the corner. Hell if I know his name, I ain't bothered." Lars rolled his massive, sleek black eyes, "Well you certainly didn't bloody win this time, I'll tell you that."
"I rarely do."
"One day someone's going to not let you walk away."
Ray reached into his black slack's back pocket, pulling out a thin, chrome rectangular box with a button along the side. A bloody thumb gave it a slight push, as the thin box suddenly came to life. Within his palm, the small box opened in two, revealing two halves: one containing a half-empty line of cigarettes, the other a mechanical contraption. Two tiny, robotic arms with circular grips reached across the small cigarette case, plucking an unlit roll and holding it at both ends with each hand. The tiny box droid's right hand began to glow a bright red, searching the tip of the cigarette, until folding inward onto itself, collapsing back within the container - the other turning 360 degrees, pointing the unlit end towards its owner.
With a satisfied smirk, Ray leaned forward, plucking the cigarette with the corner of his mouth as the droid's arm folded inward. With a snap, he shut the small pocket droid and took a deep drag of sweet nicotine. "I tell you what, Lars," he spoke with an exhale. "If I ever get put down, I'll leave you this little guy." Ray held the shut cigarette droid out before him, rattling it slightly. Lars crossed his arms, "I don't want another of your god damn inventions. I want you to live."
Ray's cigarette twitched slightly, his gaze lowering onto the countertop. "They just aren't selling, man. You know how hard it is to get a god damn patent on this planet? I try so god damn hard to please these people but all that I get-" he began, the Sullustan resting an elbow onto the metal bar counter-top. And so, the daily ritual was complete. He'd work, Ray'd fight someone after closing his shop, come here to drink and vent. Vent about the patents, vent about the center of commerce, vent about his parents, Every bloody day.
The Sullustan smiled slightly as he reassured his friend for the 874th time, patting him on the shoulder and giving him a shake. The Sullustan's black gaze averted slightly, as something caught his eye. He froze, hearing the band begin another number. The Sullustan's cheeks fluttered slightly, as Ray finally stopped talking. "You alright?" He blinked, looking onto the reflection of the Sullustan's sleek, black eyes and seeing something in red. He turned around in his stool - and froze. His mouth opened slightly, dropping his cigarette onto the floor as he whispered,
"Holy shit."
[/fancybox4]
One Red Rose.
Track 2.
The lights dimmed slightly within the Blue Kyber as the band played a slower number, dimming to a slowly-swirling optic mixture of scarlet and gold. Ray's cigarette twitched within his mouth, as both he and the Sullustan stared forward. A figure moved through the dance floor towards the bar. Lars quickly bowed his head, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "May the Force be with you," he muttered, to rapidly pace towards the other end of the bar. "Wait what- hey!" He leaned over the counter slightly, looking towards the Sullustan as he attended another client. God damn it. He gathered his senses, preparing himself as the figure finally arrived, sitting atop the stool to his left.
A woman leaned forward, resting her elbows atop the metal counter-top. A sleek, vibrant red dress covered her thin frame, tightly hugging her hips with an exposed back. A red and black bonnet rested atop her long, jet-black locks cocked to a slight angle, obscuring her eyes from Ray's inquisitive peripheral. He could barely see her lips, a freshly-lined amber with slight overbite.
Ray stared downward into his drink, feeling his heartbeat quicken. A lingering anxiety pressed against his shoulders, swirling around his neck like a chain. He took a quick breath, rapidly holding his Aldrati Bourbon to his lips and taking a swig. His throat tightened slightly as the bourbon lingered, burning with fervor. Ah shit. He hastily rested his drink back onto the countertop and rose the back of his hand to his lips. The drink scorched his entire esophagus with foreign density, causing him to break into a momentary coughing fit. He pounded his chest with a closed fist, gaining his bearings to hear a voice,
"Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn."
His eyes opened, turning to their left and seeing the woman's face for the first time. Lightly tanned skin, chiseled jaw with eyes of emerald. She rose a curious brow, her lips turning into an amused smile. "Quite the drink you've got there, you sure you can handle that?" He scoffed, feeling his ego make its debut, "Lady - this is my drink. I live, breathe and bleed Aldrati #5." She nodded her head in acceptance, "Clearly." He frowned slightly, feeling his face warm of shame. He triumphantly took a swig from his glass, shutting his eyes and savoring the drink's flaming taste as he set the glass back down. Her hands rose in surprise, taking a brief gasp as she gently clapped, "Incredible." He scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking another sip.
Strangers In The Night.
Track 3.
"Screw you too, lady."
She chuckled, looking down the bar and waving Lars over with an eager smile. The Sullustan approached in theatric glee, twirling his green suit's coat-tails as he elatedly leaned onto the counter-top, giving Ray a brief glance before looking towards her. "Welcome to the Blue Kyber - what can I get ya'?" "Skaadi, Alderaan Rouge." The Sullustan's brow rose in slight surprise, a brief exhale escaping his nostrils. He glanced over his shoulder to the wall of bottles behind him,
"Someone knows their wine - top shelf, eh? Coming right up."
The Sullustan left for a moment, having to take a minute to find the bottle. An exuberant pour later, he returned with her drink before making his exit. Ray glanced towards her drink, "Don't think I've ever seen anyone order those before. Shit, you made Lars actually take a second to get you a drink." He took a swig of his bourbon, "Hell of an accomplishment." She shrugged, taking a quaint sip of her wine before replying, "I'm more surprised he has it at all. Figures, the high-end bars don't have it but the bloody street-light joint does." He smiled, feeling a touch of pride for Lars' bar.
Track 4
Here's To The Losers.
Track 7.
Flames surrounded the speeder's remains. The stench of smoke filled Ray's lungs. Sheets of rain poured through the skyscraper's shattered windows, striking the smoldering wreckage. Ray's eyes twitched slowly to life, feeling droplets of rain pitter patter against his face. His sunglasses were knocked clean off, shattering the lens and lying crumpled and broken shortly beside him. He laid on his back, his suit's black coat slowly turning a light burgundy from his injuries. His cigarette droid awaited in the speeder's flaming wreckage, its arms twisted and broken, unable to collapse back into the safety of their metal frame.
Ray broke into a coughing fit, feeling the world spin within his head. He groaned, staggering over to his side and trying to push himself up with his elbow. His vision was a blurred mess, yet he could clearly make out the black visor staring down at him overhead. He groaned, hacking a touch of blood from his lungs as he continued to try and rise to his feet.
The Mandalorian stood by him, blaster drawn and aimed towards his head. He spoke through his distorted mask,
"Ray Mahraaj. 31 years old, born in Jek'lyn, Chandrila. Son of Meri'lyn and Dan Mahraaj, dual proprietors of Mahraaj Engineering & Consultations."
Ray finally got off the ground, rising to his knees and staring up at the black blaster on his forehead. He shut his eyes, holding his arms by his side in a shrug. Blood oozed from his lips and forehead as they turned to a smile, "Yep, that's me."
The Mandalorian nodded. Ray's eyes glanced behind the man's blaster, noting the shattered durasteel and bloodied arm behind it.
"You know why I'm here, Ray?"
Ray nodded, briefly spitting out a touch of blood to his side, "Yeah. It's 'cause you're a tasteless asshole that doesn't like Aldrati #5."
Ray's world spun around him as the blaster struck his face in a vicious whip, cracking his cheekbone and sending him reeling backwards onto the ground. His eyes widened, his jaw stuck open in light shock as pain screamed from his face.
"I love comedians. But no, that isn't why I'm here."
The Mandalorian squatted down by the Inventor, resting his forearms atop his knees.
"Emille Marakov, good friend of yours, eh? Let me tell you something. Your little affair's over."
Ray's eyes widened, his jaw barely able to move, "A...affair?"
The Mandalorian's head tilted slightly, giving the man a long stare from behind his jet-black visor. A light chuckle escaped the Warrior's lips, later escalating into roaring laughter. He stood up, continue to bellow as he paced in a circle around the bloody man, his durasteel boots crushing his bent spectacles along the way.
"That is rich. Not only are you the single biggest shit-stain on the Galaxy, but you're also the biggest idiot. Yes, affair. She's married to the Senator of Concord Dawn."
The Mandalorian paced back infront of the man, kicking a flaming speeder plate out of the way as he went. He squatted down infront of Ray's face,
"Me."
Ray convulsed slightly, unable to speak. The Mandalorian rested his blaster against Ray's head. He shut his eyes, feeling his eyes swell as tears mixed with blood along his face. The Mandalorian stared at him for a moment,
"God damn I love to see people beg. You know, Ray, at first...I really wanted you dead. Really, really badly. But now," he tucked his blaster backwards, holstering it onto his hip. "I can see you're not worth the shot. You're garbage. The single biggest piece of filth on Coruscant, and I ain't gonna put you out of your god damn misery on a whim. No, Ray, I don't wanna kill you."
He stood, turning his back towards the man.
"I want to break you."
His durasteel boots began to move, leaving the broken man as the sounds of sirens enclosed along the Skyscraper.
[/fancybox4]
People join the Military for many reasons. There are some that do it out of love for their country and state, a driving will to protect what they stand for and what they treasure. Others do it for personal gain, looking to further their lives and merely bleed the Government a bit in exchange for their own blood.
People don't really mention the others. The losers, the filth that don't join for any particular reasons that others could understand. The dropouts, the failures, the rejects that were too colossal a fuck-up to ever make it in the normal world.
Here's to the losers who join to run away.
Ray Mahraj
[fancybox4=http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1R6pyT6sGu4/VJegw50NH9I/AAAAAAAACwU/GiSo6OWdV28/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2014-12-21%2Bat%2B9.40.11%2BPM.png]
Luck Be a Lady.
Track 1.
The Blue Kyber was as vibrant as ever.
Music blared through the Lounge's walls as bright lights shone overhead, as distinct hues of blue, red and green shifted throughout this hole in the wall, casting a lively hue onto its bar and dance floor. Musicians were at the stage, vibrantly playing their hearts out as the wood-polished dancefloor in the center of the Coruscanti Club swung to the beat. The bar at the back was as packed as it gets, with all save one stool taken by those who lived the nightlife. A sullustan bar-tender busily paced from corner to corner in the bar, taking drink orders as he went and serving them as he came. A vibrant green suit covered the Alien, as his oiled cheeks reflected the overhead lights, giving him a nearly surreal aesthetic.
The Sullustan's hips shifted left and right as he bobbed to the beat, approaching the furthermost corner of the bar. At the furthermost corner of the steel counter-top was seated a regular, indistinguishable figure. Every bloody day. Regardless of dress, regardless of weather - there he was. Same time, same place, same drink. The Sullustan turned towards the massive collection of bottles behind him, rapidly snatching a dark-brown bottle. The Sullustan's head continued to bob, taking the bottle and giving it a good shake, his hips swaying as he continued. With a twirl, he spun back to the counter-top, snatching an empty short glass. He tossed it into the air, giving it a vibrant spin as he uncorked the amber bottle.
The Sullustan's right hand shot outward, snatching the glass from the air and pouring exactly 1.52 (point oh-two 'cause he liked the guy) fluid ounces of Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn. His hands reached underneath the bar counter-top, snatching two cubes of ice and flicking them onto the glass like quarters. With a brief fizzle, the Corellian Bourbon came to life, its dark-brown liquid mixing with the ice to form a burgundy hue. The Sullustan shook his hip, and twirled across the floor towards the end of the counter, resting the short glass before the single-most ill-dressed man in the entire club. The Sullustan spoke,
"Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn, baby. Shaken - with style. Tell me, who was it this time, hm?" He threw his hands out by his sides in dramatic expo, fluttering his fat cheeks as he continued, "Talk to me, Ray! Life is short! Who caught the thunder?"
The man's hazel eyes shifted onto the vibrant sullustan with a raised brow, "Lars, I love you." He reached forward, grabbing the burgundy short-glass and taking a hefty swig, "And because I love you-" he paused, nodding his head and appreciating the flavor,"-Good shit. I'll tell you this." The left-most, bloody corner of his lips turned to a smirk, as he leaned forward, tapping the Sullustan's suit, "You're gonna take this home - and you're gonna burn it. The suit, the pants - burn it. Green ain't your color mate, and don't you go home and grab that god damn orange suit, either. I swear, everyday you look like a different sort of fruit." The man's arms went out by his sides, "What's on today's salad bar, boys? Ah...Key Lime Pie." Lars' cheeks fluttered in clear offense, "This is coming from the man who walks in here - everyday - looking like he just had reconstructive facial surgery." Ray shrugged his shoulders, "And who the hell says I didn't? Shit, I could use a nose job." His bloody nose twitched, as the glass of bourbon magically found its way to his lips once more.
Lars' large, black eyes lowered slightly onto his nose, an idea coming to mind. He quickly shook his head, flabbing his cheeks, "Damn it - you didn't answer me. Who'd you fight?" Ray held his burgundy glass before him, swirling it infront of his face. "Some nose-ring wearing swoop turd in the parking garage around the corner. Hell if I know his name, I ain't bothered." Lars rolled his massive, sleek black eyes, "Well you certainly didn't bloody win this time, I'll tell you that."
"I rarely do."
"One day someone's going to not let you walk away."
Ray reached into his black slack's back pocket, pulling out a thin, chrome rectangular box with a button along the side. A bloody thumb gave it a slight push, as the thin box suddenly came to life. Within his palm, the small box opened in two, revealing two halves: one containing a half-empty line of cigarettes, the other a mechanical contraption. Two tiny, robotic arms with circular grips reached across the small cigarette case, plucking an unlit roll and holding it at both ends with each hand. The tiny box droid's right hand began to glow a bright red, searching the tip of the cigarette, until folding inward onto itself, collapsing back within the container - the other turning 360 degrees, pointing the unlit end towards its owner.
With a satisfied smirk, Ray leaned forward, plucking the cigarette with the corner of his mouth as the droid's arm folded inward. With a snap, he shut the small pocket droid and took a deep drag of sweet nicotine. "I tell you what, Lars," he spoke with an exhale. "If I ever get put down, I'll leave you this little guy." Ray held the shut cigarette droid out before him, rattling it slightly. Lars crossed his arms, "I don't want another of your god damn inventions. I want you to live."
Ray's cigarette twitched slightly, his gaze lowering onto the countertop. "They just aren't selling, man. You know how hard it is to get a god damn patent on this planet? I try so god damn hard to please these people but all that I get-" he began, the Sullustan resting an elbow onto the metal bar counter-top. And so, the daily ritual was complete. He'd work, Ray'd fight someone after closing his shop, come here to drink and vent. Vent about the patents, vent about the center of commerce, vent about his parents, Every bloody day.
The Sullustan smiled slightly as he reassured his friend for the 874th time, patting him on the shoulder and giving him a shake. The Sullustan's black gaze averted slightly, as something caught his eye. He froze, hearing the band begin another number. The Sullustan's cheeks fluttered slightly, as Ray finally stopped talking. "You alright?" He blinked, looking onto the reflection of the Sullustan's sleek, black eyes and seeing something in red. He turned around in his stool - and froze. His mouth opened slightly, dropping his cigarette onto the floor as he whispered,
"Holy shit."
One Red Rose.
Track 2.
The lights dimmed slightly within the Blue Kyber as the band played a slower number, dimming to a slowly-swirling optic mixture of scarlet and gold. Ray's cigarette twitched within his mouth, as both he and the Sullustan stared forward. A figure moved through the dance floor towards the bar. Lars quickly bowed his head, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "May the Force be with you," he muttered, to rapidly pace towards the other end of the bar. "Wait what- hey!" He leaned over the counter slightly, looking towards the Sullustan as he attended another client. God damn it. He gathered his senses, preparing himself as the figure finally arrived, sitting atop the stool to his left.
Ray stared downward into his drink, feeling his heartbeat quicken. A lingering anxiety pressed against his shoulders, swirling around his neck like a chain. He took a quick breath, rapidly holding his Aldrati Bourbon to his lips and taking a swig. His throat tightened slightly as the bourbon lingered, burning with fervor. Ah shit. He hastily rested his drink back onto the countertop and rose the back of his hand to his lips. The drink scorched his entire esophagus with foreign density, causing him to break into a momentary coughing fit. He pounded his chest with a closed fist, gaining his bearings to hear a voice,
"Aldrati #5: Corellian Burn."
His eyes opened, turning to their left and seeing the woman's face for the first time. Lightly tanned skin, chiseled jaw with eyes of emerald. She rose a curious brow, her lips turning into an amused smile. "Quite the drink you've got there, you sure you can handle that?" He scoffed, feeling his ego make its debut, "Lady - this is my drink. I live, breathe and bleed Aldrati #5." She nodded her head in acceptance, "Clearly." He frowned slightly, feeling his face warm of shame. He triumphantly took a swig from his glass, shutting his eyes and savoring the drink's flaming taste as he set the glass back down. Her hands rose in surprise, taking a brief gasp as she gently clapped, "Incredible." He scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking another sip.
Strangers In The Night.
Track 3.
"Screw you too, lady."
She chuckled, looking down the bar and waving Lars over with an eager smile. The Sullustan approached in theatric glee, twirling his green suit's coat-tails as he elatedly leaned onto the counter-top, giving Ray a brief glance before looking towards her. "Welcome to the Blue Kyber - what can I get ya'?" "Skaadi, Alderaan Rouge." The Sullustan's brow rose in slight surprise, a brief exhale escaping his nostrils. He glanced over his shoulder to the wall of bottles behind him,
"Someone knows their wine - top shelf, eh? Coming right up."
The Sullustan left for a moment, having to take a minute to find the bottle. An exuberant pour later, he returned with her drink before making his exit. Ray glanced towards her drink, "Don't think I've ever seen anyone order those before. Shit, you made Lars actually take a second to get you a drink." He took a swig of his bourbon, "Hell of an accomplishment." She shrugged, taking a quaint sip of her wine before replying, "I'm more surprised he has it at all. Figures, the high-end bars don't have it but the bloody street-light joint does." He smiled, feeling a touch of pride for Lars' bar.
He paused, staring at his drink for a moment, "My name's Ray. Yours?"
She swirled her glass infront of her face, creating a tiny vortex at the base of her wine glass. "Emille."
He nodded, sitting in silence for a moment. "Excuse me for asking but, are you alright?"
He turned, looking at her with a surprised stare. His eyes widened slightly, Oh, that's right. I look like I just got bloody stabbed. He blinked, shrugging his shoulders, Probably because I almost did. He cleared his throat, "Y-yeah, I'm good. Just, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I, er..."
Emille rose a brow, "Had sex with a Trandoshan?"
His eyes narrowed, "What? I don't screw Lizards, no-"
She continued, "Got into a fight with a Trandoshan?"
He looked away, shrugging, "Warmer, I guess."
Her glass rose to her lips, "You fought a Trandoshan for his girlfriend."
He rose his hands to his brow, "What is with you and Trandoshans, lady? No!"
She broke into a hearty laugh, tilting her scarlet bonnet backwards slightly. "Tell me then, Ray, if you don't screw lizards, what do you do?" She tilted her head slightly, looking at him with a patient smile. He grinned, shutting his eyes and shrugging his shoulders.
"Oh, please."
The bloodied man roared with laughter, the most genuine Lars'd ever heard from him. After calming down, he replied,
"I'm an inventor. I got a little shop in the Trade District. Folks run a big Consultation firm over in Chandrila." Ray held his bourbon before his face, swirling it slightly, "Always loved that shit. I thought Coruscant'd be a great place for an Indie like me to get off the ground but..." He sighed, setting his glass onto the counter-top.
"I understand. It certainly isn't easy down here. Coruscant's home of the Galaxy's finest bureaucracy."
"How do you figure?"
She rose a hand to her bonnet, tucking it downward slightly. Emille's lips turned to a patient smile,
She swirled her glass infront of her face, creating a tiny vortex at the base of her wine glass. "Emille."
He nodded, sitting in silence for a moment. "Excuse me for asking but, are you alright?"
He turned, looking at her with a surprised stare. His eyes widened slightly, Oh, that's right. I look like I just got bloody stabbed. He blinked, shrugging his shoulders, Probably because I almost did. He cleared his throat, "Y-yeah, I'm good. Just, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I, er..."
Emille rose a brow, "Had sex with a Trandoshan?"
His eyes narrowed, "What? I don't screw Lizards, no-"
She continued, "Got into a fight with a Trandoshan?"
He looked away, shrugging, "Warmer, I guess."
Her glass rose to her lips, "You fought a Trandoshan for his girlfriend."
He rose his hands to his brow, "What is with you and Trandoshans, lady? No!"
She broke into a hearty laugh, tilting her scarlet bonnet backwards slightly. "Tell me then, Ray, if you don't screw lizards, what do you do?" She tilted her head slightly, looking at him with a patient smile. He grinned, shutting his eyes and shrugging his shoulders.
"Oh, please."
The bloodied man roared with laughter, the most genuine Lars'd ever heard from him. After calming down, he replied,
"I'm an inventor. I got a little shop in the Trade District. Folks run a big Consultation firm over in Chandrila." Ray held his bourbon before his face, swirling it slightly, "Always loved that shit. I thought Coruscant'd be a great place for an Indie like me to get off the ground but..." He sighed, setting his glass onto the counter-top.
"I understand. It certainly isn't easy down here. Coruscant's home of the Galaxy's finest bureaucracy."
"How do you figure?"
She rose a hand to her bonnet, tucking it downward slightly. Emille's lips turned to a patient smile,
"Let's just say I have a front seat for some of the Galaxy's complexities," she muttered. A hand rose to her bonnet, briefly removing it from her head to set it onto the countertop, "I work for Concord Dawn's Senator. I'm his...assistant, or at least," she shrugged, "I think I am. Concord Dawn doesn't really have as much an established Government anymore since the Mandalorians got together again." Emille's gaze fell onto her wine glass, "It's a bit of an annoyance. There're so many small villages that're just trying to scrape by, and the Senator won't even acknowledge them unless I bloody beg him."
She took a hefty sip of her wine, "Bastard loves to see me beg."
He turned towards her, feeling something amiss. He briefly shut his eyes, "Hey, uh," he opened his eyes, briefly catching her gaze as a lock of black hair fell over her face. Eyes green of emerald stared back at him, with depth the likes of which he'd never seen. An ethereal sensation suddenly washed over him. A haze clouded his mind for a moment as he stared into her bewitching gaze. He paused, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
Suddenly, time itself seemed to cease.
A burning sensation rose in his chest that, for once, wasn't the bourbon. It was undeniably foreign, like a tugging pull along the back of his skull that ran to his beating heart. The hairs along his arms stood on end for a second, as every nerve along his body screamed in unison to his vocal chords. He took a brief inhale,
"You dance?"
She leaned back slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. Her emerald gaze burned into his eyes, her brow narrowing slightly as she stared the man down in contemplation. He swallowed, trying to maintain as rigid a face as he could as that moment. His chest pounded like a drum,
She tilted her head a touch, brushing a lock from her face and back behind her ear, her gaze fixated on the man's dry-bloodied shirt.
She took a hefty sip of her wine, "Bastard loves to see me beg."
He turned towards her, feeling something amiss. He briefly shut his eyes, "Hey, uh," he opened his eyes, briefly catching her gaze as a lock of black hair fell over her face. Eyes green of emerald stared back at him, with depth the likes of which he'd never seen. An ethereal sensation suddenly washed over him. A haze clouded his mind for a moment as he stared into her bewitching gaze. He paused, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
Suddenly, time itself seemed to cease.
A burning sensation rose in his chest that, for once, wasn't the bourbon. It was undeniably foreign, like a tugging pull along the back of his skull that ran to his beating heart. The hairs along his arms stood on end for a second, as every nerve along his body screamed in unison to his vocal chords. He took a brief inhale,
"You dance?"
She leaned back slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. Her emerald gaze burned into his eyes, her brow narrowing slightly as she stared the man down in contemplation. He swallowed, trying to maintain as rigid a face as he could as that moment. His chest pounded like a drum,
She tilted her head a touch, brushing a lock from her face and back behind her ear, her gaze fixated on the man's dry-bloodied shirt.
Track 4
"Good thing I wore red today."
Of all the times Ray had been in Lars' bar, he'd never seen him dance. Upon watching him, he wasn't sure if the man could or couldn't. He swayed and jived about as well as Rancors hid, yet that hardly stopped the pair from enjoying themselves. Upon analysis, perhaps it was an ill-thought out plan, a sudden impulse that'd come over the man as he fell for the lady in red. Lars smiled, wiping down a glass as a small Rodian regular left a credit chip atop the bar's metal counter-top.
The Galaxy's complexities didn't matter on that wood-polished dancefloor. With each sway, he found himself caring less of the patents. The bureacracy of the chamber of commerce. The lack of sales, the rising material costs for his contraptions. His worn knuckles relaxed, as tension radiated from the man through his left and right foot, his hands relaxing as they gingerly held Emille's. All that mattered that dance, Aldrati #5 and Skaadi.
One dance become two, two became four and four became closing time.
To Ray's bewilderment, three days later, she came back.
Three days after that, again.
And again.
Of all the times Ray had been in Lars' bar, he'd never seen him dance. Upon watching him, he wasn't sure if the man could or couldn't. He swayed and jived about as well as Rancors hid, yet that hardly stopped the pair from enjoying themselves. Upon analysis, perhaps it was an ill-thought out plan, a sudden impulse that'd come over the man as he fell for the lady in red. Lars smiled, wiping down a glass as a small Rodian regular left a credit chip atop the bar's metal counter-top.
The Galaxy's complexities didn't matter on that wood-polished dancefloor. With each sway, he found himself caring less of the patents. The bureacracy of the chamber of commerce. The lack of sales, the rising material costs for his contraptions. His worn knuckles relaxed, as tension radiated from the man through his left and right foot, his hands relaxing as they gingerly held Emille's. All that mattered that dance, Aldrati #5 and Skaadi.
One dance become two, two became four and four became closing time.
To Ray's bewilderment, three days later, she came back.
Three days after that, again.
And again.
[fancybox4=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/16/28/27/1628271d79f5250560a6b46970fd39a2.jpg]
That's life.
Track 5.
A year passed.
Time and time again, the Blue Kyber was host to the duo's meetings. Time spent together was originally mostly allocated to dance, yet the time in between was for talking. Of the day, politics, his newest junk contraption, their lives. Seemingly the situation at Concord Dawn was ill-improving for the farmers, the lady's work growing ever the more troublesome. The Senator was positively insufferable, throwing around his political weight like a Championship belt. Mandalorians innately carried this sense of authority where they went, the non-verbal agreement between party relations being "Agree with me or I'll kill your ass."
The Inventor's Trinket Shop was hardly doing any better, itself. Ideas were slow to realize, and few people purchased his gadgets - chalking them up to little more than useless drivel. If it didn't have a Logo on it and a handsome Alderaanian Model selling it, they weren't gonna buy. With the Sith War growing ever the larger, the Republic's tax rates going to rise. Life on Coruscant is an expensive thing, and you certainly knew that warfront was hellish when even the lower city subdivisions were seeing tax rates rise.
Ray walked into the Blue Kyber with immaculate precision, showing up at 11:03pm on the dot as he always did. A damp white and black suit covered the man's body, a pair of thrifty old aviator spectacles covering his face. Rain viciously coated the streets of Coruscant, striking the club's walls in waves of wind and rain.
Despite this, the club was as lively as usual: the band was playing their swing numbers, the spotlights were mellow and frantic in accordance to the song, and Lars was still shaking his ass behind the bar like a Twi'Lek stripper. Ray walked to his usual seat, seeing the Sullustan preparing drinks in his usual bottle-flipping spectacles.
Lars' eyes glanced towards Ray, seeing him sit at the countertop-
And dropped a bottle.
A loud crash filled the club, as the first bottle of glass to ever shatter within its grounds spilled bourbon across the floor. The music briefly stopped, the musicians taking a glance towards the bar. The Purple-suited sullustan lowered his gaze to the shattered glass in contemplation, his jaw slightly agape.
"Ah...I...I'm sorry, I got a little excited. C-carry on, boys. Carry on."
Ray's eyes stared the Sullustan from behind his shades. He reached to his back pocket, plucking out the box droid and lighting himself a cigarette. Lars didn't come to serve him, spending his time wiping the bourbon from the floor. Ray nodded his head knowingly, looking onto the bottles behind the countertop.
Thanks man.
The club's music continued to play. From behind him, the usual pitter-patter of footsteps along the dancefloor slowed. Ray took a long drag from his cigarette, feeling his suit grow hot. Beads of sweat rose around his forehead, the dancers having stopped. Ray glanced to his right, eyeing a short glass along the countertop. Ray reached to his side, grabbing the small glass and staring at it contemplatively. His heart-beat quickened, his breath grew tense. The club lights continued to circle overhead, a yellow spotlight doing its pass over the bar. Ray tilted the short glass slightly, holding it to the spotlight as it passed - and eyeing a large light red figure in its reflection.
[/fancybox4]
[fancybox4=http://images.8tracks.com/cover/i/009/240/655/artwork_running_1200x824_wallpaper_www.wallpaperwa.com_26-5704.jpg?rect=94,0,412,412&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max]
Pennies From Heaven.
Track 6.
Ray turned in his stool, tossing the short glass as hard as he could at the Mandalorian's armored face while the man drew his blaster from a hip holster. Glass shattered against Durasteel, briefly staggering the armored warrior as Ray charged out of his stool, driving his shoulder against the heavy-armored soldier with as much force as he could physically muster. The Mandalorian recoiled, firing a blaster bolt into the air and striking one of the overhead spotlights. The club broke into complete pandemonium - screams accompanied the sounds of shattering glass as everyone ran for the small club's exit, shortly behind the suited Inventor.
Ray dashed out into the street, a sheet of rain striking his face the second he stepped outside. He looked to his left and right, eyeing a large structure further down the street. 5 stories high, a parking garage protruded the Coruscanti street like the Washington monument. Ray began his dash, knowing the Mandalorian would still be in pursuit.
"Out of my way!" The Mandalorian ordered, approaching the club exit. A rodian darted for the door as he approached, only to be latched around the neck by the mandalorian's durasteel glove. The 6'5 giant looked over his shoulder back towards the bar and uttered a fierce cry, mustering his strength as he chucked the small alien across the dance floor like a baseball. The Rodian collided against the bar's metal countertop, staggering the counter backwards and sending the wall of bottles all onto the ground.
Aldrati #5 and Skaadi mixed together on the ruined bar floor.
The Mandalorian blitzed out onto the street, narrowing his eyes behind his Black Visor and seeing a suited man run through the street in the distance. He turned, immediately beginning his colossal pursuit. Durasteel boots stomped against the Coruscant floors, reverberating the concrete with each mighty step. The busy Coruscanti street parted like the Red Sea as the giant warrior ran, staying clear out of his way. Ray briefly looked over his shoulder, seeing the distant red juggernaut in pursuit.
He swore under his breath, dropping his cigarette as he continued to sprint as fast as he could. The Mandalorian's right arm rose towards an approaching building, as suddenly a black-lined metal reel shot from his wrist. A thick metal plate latched onto the building's roof, suddenly jerking the colossal man upward, pulling himself along the roof as he gained some distance. Ray's eyes glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the Mandalorian's silhouette as he sprinted through colorful holographic advertisements, casting a shadow onto the street below. The Tribal Warrior encroached upon his prey, closing the gap overhead as the two raced to the large swoop parking garage.
Ray drew ever closer, the parking garage's entrance finally within reach-
A red comet impacted the ground infront of him, shattering the concrete floor upon impact. Ray's feet slid forward, coming to a freezing halt as he immediately glanced to his left, eyeing the rail for the Coruscanti street below. He dashed towards it, thundering durasteel shortly behind -
And leaped.
Adrenaline surged through his body as he descended through the air. His black suit flailed in the wind and rain as he descended, his body approaching the street below. He tucked his shoulder as he struck the ground, rolling along the surface, his eyes locked onto a parked gray speeder. A Neimodian shopper looked over his shoulder, eyeing the panicked inventor as he approached his speeder. "Mie'johana putili-!" a fist suddenly struck the Neomodian's face, sending the confused alien reeling to the side while the inventor threw himself behind the activated speeder's driving seat.
The Mandalorian struck the ground like raw thunder shortly behind. The speeder lifted off the ground, its engines angling backward towards the approaching juggernaut. The inventor slammed the throttle, blasting the turbines backward with a fierce gust of flame. Fire consumed the Mandalorian's armor as the speeder jetted forward, engulfing it in the turbine's unforgiving flames. As the speeder jetted forward, a sound reached the inventor's ears: a thunk.
The speeder raced through the Coruscant Sky, blazing through the heavy traffic. A massive, red-armored man hung from the vehicle's back, his suit's line and magnet bolted against the speeder's hull as it flew through the sky. Ray grit his teeth, jerking the steering grips left and right, trying to shake the Tribal Warrior. His suit's line began to reel, pulling him closer to the ensnared cruiser. Rain and wind buffeted the flying warrior, battering his heated steel.
Ray's eyes narrowed, knowing he was short on time. In the distance, a large structure loomed ahead - a bridge. Ray blasted the speeder's engines, looking to cross a heavy-trafficked skylane as he went. A spotlight caught the side of his eye as they flew. He jerked his steering wheel, dodging an incoming speeder and seeing the bridge draw closer. His jaw clenched, his hands jerking the speeder upward and angling it to barely skirt the edge - hoping to slam the Mandalorian against it with everything he's got.
The bridge approached, and a cry of pain reached his ears.
Ray slowed the speeder, feeling his heart pound against his chest. He leaned forward, "Holy shit I just killed someone, holy shit..." The speeder drifted onward through the sky, passing some of the nearby skyscrapers to its left and right. Ray's shaking hands reached to the back of his slacks, grabbing his small metal droid box. He held it out by his side, pressing the small button along the box's side. The cigarette droid popped open, its two metal arms hastily grabbing an unlit cigarette for its owner and holding it out for him.
Ray leaned forward, catching the cigarette along the side of his mouth,
And a durasteel fist.
Ray's body slammed against the steering handles. The speeder jerked to the side, careening out of control towards a nearby skyscaper.
[/fancybox4]
[fancybox4=http://orig12.deviantart.net/72bd/f/2007/082/d/0/etude__wilted_rose_by_babushkayaga.jpg]That's life.
Track 5.
A year passed.
Time and time again, the Blue Kyber was host to the duo's meetings. Time spent together was originally mostly allocated to dance, yet the time in between was for talking. Of the day, politics, his newest junk contraption, their lives. Seemingly the situation at Concord Dawn was ill-improving for the farmers, the lady's work growing ever the more troublesome. The Senator was positively insufferable, throwing around his political weight like a Championship belt. Mandalorians innately carried this sense of authority where they went, the non-verbal agreement between party relations being "Agree with me or I'll kill your ass."
The Inventor's Trinket Shop was hardly doing any better, itself. Ideas were slow to realize, and few people purchased his gadgets - chalking them up to little more than useless drivel. If it didn't have a Logo on it and a handsome Alderaanian Model selling it, they weren't gonna buy. With the Sith War growing ever the larger, the Republic's tax rates going to rise. Life on Coruscant is an expensive thing, and you certainly knew that warfront was hellish when even the lower city subdivisions were seeing tax rates rise.
Ray walked into the Blue Kyber with immaculate precision, showing up at 11:03pm on the dot as he always did. A damp white and black suit covered the man's body, a pair of thrifty old aviator spectacles covering his face. Rain viciously coated the streets of Coruscant, striking the club's walls in waves of wind and rain.
Despite this, the club was as lively as usual: the band was playing their swing numbers, the spotlights were mellow and frantic in accordance to the song, and Lars was still shaking his ass behind the bar like a Twi'Lek stripper. Ray walked to his usual seat, seeing the Sullustan preparing drinks in his usual bottle-flipping spectacles.
Lars' eyes glanced towards Ray, seeing him sit at the countertop-
And dropped a bottle.
A loud crash filled the club, as the first bottle of glass to ever shatter within its grounds spilled bourbon across the floor. The music briefly stopped, the musicians taking a glance towards the bar. The Purple-suited sullustan lowered his gaze to the shattered glass in contemplation, his jaw slightly agape.
"Ah...I...I'm sorry, I got a little excited. C-carry on, boys. Carry on."
Ray's eyes stared the Sullustan from behind his shades. He reached to his back pocket, plucking out the box droid and lighting himself a cigarette. Lars didn't come to serve him, spending his time wiping the bourbon from the floor. Ray nodded his head knowingly, looking onto the bottles behind the countertop.
Thanks man.
The club's music continued to play. From behind him, the usual pitter-patter of footsteps along the dancefloor slowed. Ray took a long drag from his cigarette, feeling his suit grow hot. Beads of sweat rose around his forehead, the dancers having stopped. Ray glanced to his right, eyeing a short glass along the countertop. Ray reached to his side, grabbing the small glass and staring at it contemplatively. His heart-beat quickened, his breath grew tense. The club lights continued to circle overhead, a yellow spotlight doing its pass over the bar. Ray tilted the short glass slightly, holding it to the spotlight as it passed - and eyeing a large light red figure in its reflection.
[/fancybox4]
[fancybox4=http://images.8tracks.com/cover/i/009/240/655/artwork_running_1200x824_wallpaper_www.wallpaperwa.com_26-5704.jpg?rect=94,0,412,412&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max]
Pennies From Heaven.
Track 6.
Ray turned in his stool, tossing the short glass as hard as he could at the Mandalorian's armored face while the man drew his blaster from a hip holster. Glass shattered against Durasteel, briefly staggering the armored warrior as Ray charged out of his stool, driving his shoulder against the heavy-armored soldier with as much force as he could physically muster. The Mandalorian recoiled, firing a blaster bolt into the air and striking one of the overhead spotlights. The club broke into complete pandemonium - screams accompanied the sounds of shattering glass as everyone ran for the small club's exit, shortly behind the suited Inventor.
Ray dashed out into the street, a sheet of rain striking his face the second he stepped outside. He looked to his left and right, eyeing a large structure further down the street. 5 stories high, a parking garage protruded the Coruscanti street like the Washington monument. Ray began his dash, knowing the Mandalorian would still be in pursuit.
"Out of my way!" The Mandalorian ordered, approaching the club exit. A rodian darted for the door as he approached, only to be latched around the neck by the mandalorian's durasteel glove. The 6'5 giant looked over his shoulder back towards the bar and uttered a fierce cry, mustering his strength as he chucked the small alien across the dance floor like a baseball. The Rodian collided against the bar's metal countertop, staggering the counter backwards and sending the wall of bottles all onto the ground.
Aldrati #5 and Skaadi mixed together on the ruined bar floor.
The Mandalorian blitzed out onto the street, narrowing his eyes behind his Black Visor and seeing a suited man run through the street in the distance. He turned, immediately beginning his colossal pursuit. Durasteel boots stomped against the Coruscant floors, reverberating the concrete with each mighty step. The busy Coruscanti street parted like the Red Sea as the giant warrior ran, staying clear out of his way. Ray briefly looked over his shoulder, seeing the distant red juggernaut in pursuit.
He swore under his breath, dropping his cigarette as he continued to sprint as fast as he could. The Mandalorian's right arm rose towards an approaching building, as suddenly a black-lined metal reel shot from his wrist. A thick metal plate latched onto the building's roof, suddenly jerking the colossal man upward, pulling himself along the roof as he gained some distance. Ray's eyes glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the Mandalorian's silhouette as he sprinted through colorful holographic advertisements, casting a shadow onto the street below. The Tribal Warrior encroached upon his prey, closing the gap overhead as the two raced to the large swoop parking garage.
Ray drew ever closer, the parking garage's entrance finally within reach-
A red comet impacted the ground infront of him, shattering the concrete floor upon impact. Ray's feet slid forward, coming to a freezing halt as he immediately glanced to his left, eyeing the rail for the Coruscanti street below. He dashed towards it, thundering durasteel shortly behind -
And leaped.
Adrenaline surged through his body as he descended through the air. His black suit flailed in the wind and rain as he descended, his body approaching the street below. He tucked his shoulder as he struck the ground, rolling along the surface, his eyes locked onto a parked gray speeder. A Neimodian shopper looked over his shoulder, eyeing the panicked inventor as he approached his speeder. "Mie'johana putili-!" a fist suddenly struck the Neomodian's face, sending the confused alien reeling to the side while the inventor threw himself behind the activated speeder's driving seat.
The Mandalorian struck the ground like raw thunder shortly behind. The speeder lifted off the ground, its engines angling backward towards the approaching juggernaut. The inventor slammed the throttle, blasting the turbines backward with a fierce gust of flame. Fire consumed the Mandalorian's armor as the speeder jetted forward, engulfing it in the turbine's unforgiving flames. As the speeder jetted forward, a sound reached the inventor's ears: a thunk.
Ray's eyes narrowed, knowing he was short on time. In the distance, a large structure loomed ahead - a bridge. Ray blasted the speeder's engines, looking to cross a heavy-trafficked skylane as he went. A spotlight caught the side of his eye as they flew. He jerked his steering wheel, dodging an incoming speeder and seeing the bridge draw closer. His jaw clenched, his hands jerking the speeder upward and angling it to barely skirt the edge - hoping to slam the Mandalorian against it with everything he's got.
The bridge approached, and a cry of pain reached his ears.
Ray slowed the speeder, feeling his heart pound against his chest. He leaned forward, "Holy shit I just killed someone, holy shit..." The speeder drifted onward through the sky, passing some of the nearby skyscrapers to its left and right. Ray's shaking hands reached to the back of his slacks, grabbing his small metal droid box. He held it out by his side, pressing the small button along the box's side. The cigarette droid popped open, its two metal arms hastily grabbing an unlit cigarette for its owner and holding it out for him.
Ray leaned forward, catching the cigarette along the side of his mouth,
And a durasteel fist.
Ray's body slammed against the steering handles. The speeder jerked to the side, careening out of control towards a nearby skyscaper.
[/fancybox4]
Here's To The Losers.
Track 7.
Flames surrounded the speeder's remains. The stench of smoke filled Ray's lungs. Sheets of rain poured through the skyscraper's shattered windows, striking the smoldering wreckage. Ray's eyes twitched slowly to life, feeling droplets of rain pitter patter against his face. His sunglasses were knocked clean off, shattering the lens and lying crumpled and broken shortly beside him. He laid on his back, his suit's black coat slowly turning a light burgundy from his injuries. His cigarette droid awaited in the speeder's flaming wreckage, its arms twisted and broken, unable to collapse back into the safety of their metal frame.
Ray broke into a coughing fit, feeling the world spin within his head. He groaned, staggering over to his side and trying to push himself up with his elbow. His vision was a blurred mess, yet he could clearly make out the black visor staring down at him overhead. He groaned, hacking a touch of blood from his lungs as he continued to try and rise to his feet.
The Mandalorian stood by him, blaster drawn and aimed towards his head. He spoke through his distorted mask,
"Ray Mahraaj. 31 years old, born in Jek'lyn, Chandrila. Son of Meri'lyn and Dan Mahraaj, dual proprietors of Mahraaj Engineering & Consultations."
Ray finally got off the ground, rising to his knees and staring up at the black blaster on his forehead. He shut his eyes, holding his arms by his side in a shrug. Blood oozed from his lips and forehead as they turned to a smile, "Yep, that's me."
The Mandalorian nodded. Ray's eyes glanced behind the man's blaster, noting the shattered durasteel and bloodied arm behind it.
"You know why I'm here, Ray?"
Ray nodded, briefly spitting out a touch of blood to his side, "Yeah. It's 'cause you're a tasteless asshole that doesn't like Aldrati #5."
Ray's world spun around him as the blaster struck his face in a vicious whip, cracking his cheekbone and sending him reeling backwards onto the ground. His eyes widened, his jaw stuck open in light shock as pain screamed from his face.
"I love comedians. But no, that isn't why I'm here."
The Mandalorian squatted down by the Inventor, resting his forearms atop his knees.
"Emille Marakov, good friend of yours, eh? Let me tell you something. Your little affair's over."
Ray's eyes widened, his jaw barely able to move, "A...affair?"
The Mandalorian's head tilted slightly, giving the man a long stare from behind his jet-black visor. A light chuckle escaped the Warrior's lips, later escalating into roaring laughter. He stood up, continue to bellow as he paced in a circle around the bloody man, his durasteel boots crushing his bent spectacles along the way.
"That is rich. Not only are you the single biggest shit-stain on the Galaxy, but you're also the biggest idiot. Yes, affair. She's married to the Senator of Concord Dawn."
The Mandalorian paced back infront of the man, kicking a flaming speeder plate out of the way as he went. He squatted down infront of Ray's face,
"Me."
Ray convulsed slightly, unable to speak. The Mandalorian rested his blaster against Ray's head. He shut his eyes, feeling his eyes swell as tears mixed with blood along his face. The Mandalorian stared at him for a moment,
"God damn I love to see people beg. You know, Ray, at first...I really wanted you dead. Really, really badly. But now," he tucked his blaster backwards, holstering it onto his hip. "I can see you're not worth the shot. You're garbage. The single biggest piece of filth on Coruscant, and I ain't gonna put you out of your god damn misery on a whim. No, Ray, I don't wanna kill you."
He stood, turning his back towards the man.
"I want to break you."
His durasteel boots began to move, leaving the broken man as the sounds of sirens enclosed along the Skyscraper.
People join the Military for many reasons. There are some that do it out of love for their country and state, a driving will to protect what they stand for and what they treasure. Others do it for personal gain, looking to further their lives and merely bleed the Government a bit in exchange for their own blood.
People don't really mention the others. The losers, the filth that don't join for any particular reasons that others could understand. The dropouts, the failures, the rejects that were too colossal a fuck-up to ever make it in the normal world.
Here's to the losers who join to run away.
Last edited:
