Solace

[Ols]

Bitter End was a busy city for its size. It's population dwindled, by modern standards, in the hundreds of thousands. It was no thriving hub, on the planet Vjun, at the wayside of the galaxy. Nor was it a tourist destination, its acid rains making it a perilous place in the monsoons, and its arid, rocky landscape made it far from the sort of picturesque, stereotypically Alderaanian hotspot for holidaymakers. But to some, the city held a kind of solemn beauty. It's old fashioned beige and brown buildings standing on the edge of the Bay of Tears, a harbour that seemed to swallow the bare sunlight pouring down upon it and rippled an eerie greenish colour.

The only noteworthy native life on Vjun (as Bitter End's citizens were immigrants, thousands of generations down maybe, but immigrated nonetheless) was the fish that inhabited it's few and vast pools, such as the bay. It was upon one such fish, a whip-smelt as it was called by the locals, that Nescius Caedo was eating, sitting at a small restaurant by the edge of the city, his seat overlooking the bay. He made no attempt to hide who he was, the powerful Dark Jedi sitting there in conspicuously ominous garb, all black, his lightsaber, a plain silver and black hilt, hanging from his belt and his face, unrecognisable from his alter ego, bearing an aura of foreboding about his expression. He had no need to pretend to be another, there was little sign of the war on Vjun, life went on here as it always had, irrelevant of the great battles between the Republic and whomever was fighting against it.

He took another mouthful of the fish, and washed it down with a sip of wine, enjoying his brief moment of peace in a life otherwise full of chaos.

 

[Derpy Boots]

"What the hell? The door isn't even automatic!" Despite the injury to his leg, Danneskjold still managed to lift it up and kick in the door to the restaurant.
As he strolled inside, the trademark 'tinking' noise from beneath his coat seemed all the more pronounced with his limp. He was closely followed by one of his subordinates.
"All I'm saying is that you really oughta get that checked out, cap'n. I'm sure we could find a hospital around here somewhere."
Danneskjold turned to him and grabbed him by the collar. "What I really oughta do is kill your worthless ass like I did that beggar back there!" He released him and turned his attention to the restaurants occupants.
"Where's M'amn? He was supposed to meet me here!"
When no answer came from his subordinate, Danneskjold smiled.
"Well whatever, I'm hungry anyway." He turned to one of the waiters that had been to frightened to speak. "Are you gonna stand there or are you gonna get a table ready for me?" The man quickly scurried off to prepare a table as Danneskjold returned his attention to his mate. "Head back to the ship and let the other's know they get a nights leave."
With that his underling nodded and walked out of the restaurant, just as the waiter returned to lead Danneskjold to his seat. He followed the man to his table, his coat tinking as he walked along.

 

[Ols]

Vjun seems to be going downhill Nescius thought to himself. The new entry, a typical arsehole by the first impression he gave, did not look like a local however. The citizens of Bitter End, if nothing particularly special in the wide scheme of things, were easily recognisable as such. Nescius was not sure if it was just a feeling he got from them, or something stronger, but there was nowhere else in the galaxy where he had encountered such a noticeable mark of origin. Kicking the door in made Nescius almost expectant of his vile attitude and his clearly unnecessary sense of self-importance. THe two often went hand in hand.

The man was led to a table next to Nescius'. Not that Nescius abhorred the company of others, quite the contrary, yet he sometimes liked the fact he could be alone with his thoughts. He had almost finished his meal, but he paused as the man sat down, well within earshot, facing slightly towards him. Nescius looked up, conspicuously staring at him. His eyes would meet the other man's in a steely gaze. Yet Nescius' steely gaze was far scarier than the average, his icy cold eyes were like deep arctic pools, ready to drown and freeze anybody unfortunate enough to be caught there.

"I recommend the whip-smelt," he said, softly and politely, the edges of his mouth curling ever so slightly into a smile, "freshly caught and simply served."

 

[Derpy Boots]

Danneskjold's facial expression remained stoic as he stared into the eyes of the man in black. Letting out a silent 'tch' sound, he turned to the patient waiter with a mocking smile.
"Get me anything but the whip-smelt."
"And your beverage, sir?"
Danneskjold looked towards the stranger and gave a quick laugh.
"Something that'll make even the most disgusting things seem lovable."
As the waiter shuffled off, Danneskjold turned once more to the stranger. Narrowing his eyes, he reached into his coat. "You know, you shouldn't stare at people unless your willing to start something." He pulled out a vibroblade until just the hilt was visible, but paused as his eyes fell on the lightsaber loosely dangling on the mans hip. He looked up into the mans eyes with his mocking smile. "Or is it just common-place for you force wielding airheads to be so cocky?"

 

[Ols]

His rude play did not surprise or impress Nescius. His attempt at humourously out maneuvering the Dark Jedi was juvenile and petty, at best. Still, at least he had some fight in him, rather than shrinking away in cowardice. Few people felt the conviction to challenge a man like Nescius, walking (or running) away was easy, and almost guaranteed a complete sidestep of any injury.

"Ah, he uses words to intimidate the 'airhead'. Clever," Nescius' voice had both ironic and facetious tones in it as he replied, his gaze not locked upon the larger man in a straight stare, but still with conviction. He continued, "Oh and it's not cockiness, it's arrogance," he did not add that his arrogance was well earned. He saw the vibroblade from the peripheral edge of his gaze, yet did not react as if he had even noticed a toothpick hanging from the man's belt.

"Perhaps you should not try to 'start something' with innocent, hard working people," he almost laughed at how Jedi-like he sounded, adding "Especially in a local restaurant that happens, I hear on good authority, to be a favourite of both the Count of Serenno and Master Nescius Caedo," he did not qualify that his good authority was that he was both of the mentioned people. Anybody listening would definitely not recognise him as the former, however, and although they may of heard of the latter in fearful news broadcasts or hushed rumour, he doubted his visage was well known as Nescius Caedo to many in the galaxy.

"I am the latter, I might add, so it seems you have me at a disadvantage, Mister...?"

 

[Derpy Boots]

Danneskjold was visibly irritated at the man's response to his jibes. He didn't bother to look up as the waiter returned and set a plate of bruallki and a glass of some greenish liquid in front of him. Cutting up a piece of the meat, Danneskjold took a bite, only to spit it back onto the plate. "This tastes like crap!" Sweeping his arm across the table, the meal fell noisily to the floor. As the waiter scrambled to clean up the mess, Danneskjold grabbed the greenish beverage.

"Serenno... Caedo..." He took a sip of the drink and set the glass back on the table. "Those are some big names you're throwing around there." He shrugged and looked around the restaurant with a quizzical smile on his face. "Why would a couple of big wigs like that hang out in this dump?"

 

[Ols]

"The company I'm sure," he retorted, not put out by the fact that the man had ignored his request to introduce himself. He continued, "or perhaps places like this, small, out of the way, simplistic places can remind even such 'big wigs' that there is more to life than the dealings of the Republic's Senate or the religious Jedi wars. Perhaps a small corner of reality, far from the insanity of the rest of the galaxy is all that is keeping us sane, and here in Bitter End, even a Dark Lord can enjoy a simple lunch away from prying eyes and ill-informed Jedi interference. That's only my guess at any rate," he crossed his knife and fork on his almost bare plate to show he was finished and took another sip of wine.

"And what would bring a man like you to a dump like this?"

 

[Derpy Boots]

Danneskjold shrugged. "Business, I suppose. Turns out this planet is the one place in the galaxy where I can sell a certain special cargo I recently acquired." He picked up his glass and downed the remainder of the beverage. Setting it down, he crossed his legs on the table and glared at the stranger. "My crew and I were just paying a visit to the buyer when I stopped by a restaurant to grab a bite to eat, only to run into a pompous magician with a bad attitude." He gave a quick laugh. "What's your name anyway?"

 

[Ols]

Yeah, he was really going to listen to the assessment of his attitude from this guy, who, as if to fulfill his chosen 'badass' stereotype, put his feet up on the table. Nescius sighed and gently flicked his wrist. The table quickly slid forwards around a foot, the man's legs would fall through the nothingness they were now resting on, and they would clumsily clatter to the floor.

"My name is Nescius. I told you this about five minutes ago," he muttered, "so you still have me at a disadvantage, Mr...?"

 

[Derpy Boots]

Danneskjold's feet slammed into the floor as the table he was resting them on magically switched its position. He knew immediately it was Nescius's work. He turned with an enraged look towards Nescius. He was doubly pissed on how he had pointed out that he had already stated his name, he had always had forgetfulness issues, and hated it when people pointed out his flaws. Kicking his chair aside, he reached into his coat and pulled out a large pistol which he held loosely at his side. "I don't mind finishing you off right now, you know?"

 

[Batty]

Tychicus saunters in to the establishment and passes by the waiter with a smile and takes a seat at a table on the opposite end of the building. She walks past the two men, clearly heated about something and chuckles to herself as she recants to her own debates. She takes her seat and a waiter approaches, doing his best to avoid the squabbling men in the center of the room.

"Ca- can i take your order ma'am?"

he says with a staggered voice, clearly uneasy about whats going on behind him.
"Just give me a sandwhich and a lite Corellian Ale hun, thank you."

She says with a smile and wink as the waiter walks off paying special attention to avoid the feud still taking place.

Tych was a young Falleen female, with a thin attractive face, and long brown hair to match her auburn colored skin. She wore a robe, similar to that of a Jedi but not to the exact. She sat patiently at her table keeping to herself but occasionally glancing at the two men in the center.

 

[Ols]

Nescius looked down at the pistol the man held. He did not flinch or even move. His reaction was to simply sit there, his elbow on the table, his hand resting upon his chin.

"Interestingly enough, I think I could have guessed," he said, calmly and dryly, "but if I were you, I would put that away."

There were a thousand and one ways in which Nescius could use the force to make him put it down, he could control his hand and physically move him, he could reach into his mind and mentally control him, and he could threaten and intimidate him in any one of a number of ways. In addition to his offensive options, he had also assessed his defensive capabilities in the situation. At the range, dodging would be difficult, and he would struggle to reach his lightsaber and bring it up to defend himself in time. Yet he was confident he could deflect, if not absorb a blaster bolt at this range with the force. Whether the aggressor realised it or not, (the latter more likely given he would have little realistic idea of the Dark Assassin's capabilities), Nescius was completely in control of the situation. Not that any onlookers would likely guess that either.

 

[Derpy Boots]

There was a tense pause as Danneskjold stared down at Nescius, broken by the sound of beeping beneath his coat. Reaching inside, he pulled out a small comlink. Turning his back on Nescius, he lifted it to his mouth and spoke into it. "What is it?" A voice clouded by static came from the other end. Apparently the message was discernible to Danneskjold, however, as he put the comlink away and even returned the pistol to its home. Turning back to Nescius, his face broke into another mocking smile. "Looks like you're in luck. I haven't got time to deal with you at the moment." He turned and began walking toward the door. "But if we ever meet again, I won't be so merciful."
Reaching the door, he pushed it open. Waiting outside was the man he arrived with and several others. He paused and looked back. "By the way," he called across the restaurant, "you'll cover my bill, won't you?"
With that he walked out of the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind him.

 

[Ols]

((That's a lot of actions for one post... >.>))

Deal with him? This man was especially lucky that Nescius had been enjoying a day off on Vjun. He did not believe in killing for killing's sake, but more often than not, the likes of this man would have more than proved to Nescius he would be doing the galaxy a favour by ending his life. He seemed to be what a good friend of Nescius' would have referred to as a waste of good organs.

"Oh thank you, I'm glad you decided to be merciful, your terrifying demeanour had me quivering from the second you entered," he replied, ironically. He did not point out that it was mercy staying his own hand, and that the pirate was the amazingly lucky one. He must have been in an exceptionally good mood not to simply crush the life out of the man's throat and cast him into the acidy depths of the water in the bay.

As the man walked out Nescius pointed the finger of his right hand forwards, the thumb pointing upwards, as if mimicking holding a pistol. A lance of blue white electricity shot from his fingertip, racing across the room faster than most people could track it with their eyes, square to the man's back. It was perhaps strong enough to knock him to his knees, and certainly enough to cause him to stop in pain. Nescius blew the tip of his finger, in mock contempt.

"I'd watch out for the static here, it's a nightmare," he said, with faux sincerity in his voice.

 

[Batty]

Tychicus couldn't help showing her curiousity at the squabble between the 2 men in front of her as she hardly tried to hide the fact that she was watching them. The waiter squirms around the men doing his best to avoid them, and places her plate and glass on the table. She nods her head in acknowledgement without untraining her eyes from the men. She had a vague identity for both of them.

One was a force user that was obvious. Like herself he emanated a certain energy... how much energy she wasn't certain of. She knew the stronger uses could mask their strength within The Force and that was a little unsettling in her eyes.

The other was a bandit of some sort, perhaps a pirate, perhaps a crook, who knew, but it was obvious the way he held himself he looked out for himself and himself only.

"hmm i wonder what he has up his sleeves..."

Tych says to herself eying the force user with particular interest. She takes a sip of her drink and watches intently as the other man stands up...