Into the shadows he went

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Ash Donnager
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Joined: Tue May 14, 2019 2:40 pm

Into the shadows he went

Post by Ash Donnager » Tue May 14, 2019 3:05 pm

He woke up seconds before the alarm went off, wrinkled hand reaching for the clock the instant it began. A tired sigh and some joint creaking later he was sitting in the edge of the bed, staring down the empty room around him. A second of concentration is all that it took him to get up and limp to the other side of the room, panting for breath like a drowning man. The life saving mask lied in it's usual spot, just far enough from bed to make him struggle every morning. Inconvenient, but he liked to feel the agony. It reminded him of older days and battles won and lost. Was life worth living without strife? He did not know, but the pain was all that grounded him some days.

Before leaving the silent apartment, he looked in the mirror. There wasn't much left of his old look, of his old self. Old age had taken its toll too soon, and left him tired and spent. Old wounds scarred his skin and gleaming metal supported him where flesh had failed. He was trapped in a decaying prison, even his breath taken away by old deeds, his life forever tied to a machine. Truly, he looked like the ruins of what used to be a fighter, a tired old man waiting to die. But no, he would not surrender. He had failed to find a good death, but he refused to sit down and wait patiently for the end to come.

It had taken him months, but he had tracked them down. The wizards, the miracle workers, the heirs to secrets older than the Republic. The Sith. Long ago, his old masters would've frowned at him seeking help of such unsavory individuals, but their lies had long ago been clear to him. He had bled for them, sacrificed everything, and yet they set him aside like a broken toy. No, he would not heed the advice of dead prophets or follow the orders of a false manmade idol. He was going to survive, even if it meant giving everything to the shadows. So outside he went, losing himself in the maze of back alleys that was the bad side of the middle of nowhere. One day, he'd been worried about being ambushed by any of the desperate or the greedy, but all fear lost its edge as he saw his doom approaching, inexorable. He treaded slowly but surely through the hiding spots of the scum of society, his intent clear and his step undisturbed. He found his target, a seedy bar like any other. He'd be meeting the informant here, the beggining of the rabbit hole. He better be, time was running out.

Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Into the shadows he went

Post by Jacobi Wylcott » Tue May 14, 2019 5:07 pm

Revenge was on his mind. It was beginning to consume his every day thoughts and guide his hands. Sweet revenge, precious vengeance. These things were his to find if he only had the dedication to stay the course and build a foundation for the coming crusade. In the bolt holes and dives across the galaxy - this is where it would begin. Jacobi Wylcott, once known by few who’d linked the name as Darth Tormentous, Dark Lord of the Sith, now but a shadowy specter of what was once - he sat in a corner booth at the proper angle where he could view the entryway.

His drink lay on the table and his fingers played over the lip of the glass, it was empty but the server droid was on its way with another refill - it would be his fourth. This world like many others held promise. The promise of a terrible few that held that coveted potential to feel the Force and tap into the infinite reserves of destiny and fewer still that had the will and the drive to become kings among the plebs of the universe. Those few were devotees to the Darkness and they knew power at any cost. Jacobi was here on this piss hole of a world to hunt these potentials down and coax them to his cause.

It was not a glorious task but it was one he took in stride. From humble beginnings this revolution would rise and from the blood of the weak the strong would rise again. First thing was first. Such quests of vast heights did not succeed without manpower. Jacobi needed bodies to throw into the fire - the same fire he’d be running head long into soon enough. Most would die, the unworthy chaff, the weak to be plucked and cast away, those that would survive the coming trials and battles would rise from the forge as tempered warriors with victory branded on their souls. Yes, a few of the recruited would survive and those that did would eventually grow into the next generation of Lords to rule over the ilk of the galaxy.

Supposedly the Krath, had pointed out this location as a meeting point for one such candidate. They were a secretive group and Jacobi cared little for their kind but he couldn’t deny their usefulness. If this prospect proved true then he’d surely follow up on other leads and soon enough he’d have more than the paltry band of outcasts he had now.

The droid arrived and poured him a new glass of amber liquid. He watched its swirl within the glass. Indeed, this day would be interesting.

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Slade Xandir
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Re: Into the shadows he went

Post by Slade Xandir » Sun May 19, 2019 6:01 pm

Irritation was clear on the face of the slickster. He hadn't had any Snow in months, and being on the verge of losing his frakkin mind, he wanted to get these credits and get them fast. His dealer was waiting on him, telling him there was a limited supply and this and that and it was enough to get him even more on edge. Tver didn't know a craving could be so bad. Desperation pushed him to defy allegiances, to care little for his own life. But it brought him riches before- who was to say he couldn't rob karma again?

Thrusting himself through the crowds of aliens and idiots alike, the ragged young man who held a look in his near black eyes that promised to snap your spine should you catch his snapping patience. And he followed the addresses until he wound up at The Cheeken, a regular basic bar on this planet of whatever the hell he stood on. He didn't bother checking the outside- he just barreled through the rickety door, looking for who matched the description. Some wired up wrinkle of a old man with cybernetics and that chip on your shoulder that every other frakkin edgelord had in this world. There were a couple of men in here that looked like this; briefly he scrutinized Jacobi, comparing him to a pic that he had of face detail for this mission. Nah...this was just some regular dude, he thought. Wasn't the one. That way the wrong glowing eye anyway.
Bypassing that dude, he marched to the other side of the bar, slamming the pic back in his holowatch and standing at the table where this other dude was. Running a pale and shaking hand through disheveled sweaty black hair, Tver offered that phrase that would have been the confirmation to identity. The code for 'well, made it- are you who you say you are?'

Anxiety and aggravation went hand in hand- and he hoped he wasn't wasting his time on another rug being pulled from under his feet.
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Ash Donnager
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Joined: Tue May 14, 2019 2:40 pm

Re: Into the shadows he went

Post by Ash Donnager » Fri May 24, 2019 5:46 pm

Dragging his tired bones inside the seedy locale, he eyed the patrons sitting in dark corners. Old instincts flashed when he noticed the layout of the room, imagined death leaping from every angle. For an instant, he was lost in past fights, immersed in the smell of red hot plasma and the sizzling of blaster bolts striking true. He rested his right hand on the grip of his blaster and the visions cleared away. His one remaining limb, only stubborn refusal to give up his trigger finger kept it unreplaced. He refused to loose himself to the machine, and the tool he'd use to carve his way through everything the galaxy had thrown at him would be the last he'd give up.

A tired sigh on his covered lips as he dropped himself on a table, he ordered the drink he'd been told would signal the informant. Eyeing the disgusting beverage, he left it untouched. His mind was the only thing that hadn't failed him. Yet. And he'd keep it that way as long as possible. He noted all the stares, the looks of interest, the sneers of disdain. Nothing felt out of place, but he was hardly a sleek operative. He felt so out of place, bereft of brothers to watch his back, with no clear enemy on sight. But this was the only way, giving up would mean embracing death, and he was not ready to let go.

Someone with more brawn than sense stomped inside the room, aggression in his stance and craving in his eyes. The young man eyed the patrons, seemingly looking for something, and approached him, all fake courage and reckless aggression. The old man eyed the kid as he muttered something that sounded like a code. Raising an eyebrow he replied, voice course and ragged by the fire that long ago ravaged his throat:

-I don't know who you are, kid, but you better watch who you are bothering before you run into someone short on patience.

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