A clone, a mandalorian and a space viking,

[CC-848 Jon]

Fire burnt in the heart of every Dread Guard. At least, that of Jon's squad; a hunger for death that was insatiably. That was his reason for going to bars whilst off duty, to get into fights. To start fights; an excuse to cause some havoc, some chaos. Sure he liked drinking and smuggling and pillaging. But killing, killing is the best thing there is.
The way your heart pumps in your chest when you can see the life slipping from their grasp and you know you took it. It gives you power, the will to take life. He had been given the tools and opportunities to become drunk on said power, his eyes were dipped in shadow as he sat in the far corner of the room. Drinking and drugging himself enough to become near numb, then he couldn't feel the plethora of pain that was about to come to him as he had stolen the drink he was currently holding from a rather large wookie. First, the glass was smacked from the palm of his hand and the chair pulled out from under him. Then there was an abrupt silence as the chair was slammed into his back and his body fell limp over his table, then a large hairy fist came down on his throat and threw aside the chair whilst turning its large sluggish body to look at him. Under the wraps of cloak Jon was wearing his gear, he never took it off. He was that gear, he was the knife he held gleefully in his hand under the wraps of cloak. He was the blood stains scattered over his armour, he was the memories of the spectators. He wasn't anything but his materials, and that was when his mind returned to focus, the knife thrust into the eye of the wookie. Blood splurted and splattered on the visor of his helmet, his feet grasping one of the beasts arms and pulling it to the side to take the large beast down. It howled in pain and its grip tightened around his neck, it was survival of the fittest.
This was his favourite part.


@[member="Isabet Kote"]
@[member="Bjornveld Skjoldsen"]

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet had walked into the bar just in time to see the chair break over a clone's back. Isabet's eyes widened as the fight intensified and a knife was brought out. This was going to be good, no way she was missing this. A chance to take down a wookie? She cracked her fingers, taking four large strides into the bar. The clone was already doing a decent job of slicing the wookie the feth up, but the wookie had the clone by the throat. Despite how well he was doing the pressure would soon get to him, Isabet decided to interject. Her fist curled up into a tight ball. She stepped forward with her right foot, using the momentum to swing her fist toward the back of the wookie's neck.

*CRACK.*

Her gloved fist met with the back of the wookies head. The sudden blow causing him to pull his hand away from the clone and grip the back of his head. Isabet stood back, her fists raised and her own knife clenched between her fingers. Two words. BAR FIGHT!

@[member="CC-848 Jon"] @Bjornveld Skjoldsen

 

[CC-848 Jon]

Jon was dropped sluggishly onto the shattered table. He grimaced at the intervention of a third competitor. "THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND THE WALKING MATTRESS!" He cried out as he lunged from the table, knife in hand he plunged it into the belly of the beast. His free hand wrapping around the waist of the beast as he pushed all of weight into the wookie, it roared in frustration as its leg failed the test of strength. Its body falling and its arms waving widely in the air, more than likely in an attempt to attack the female who had previously attacked him. Jon's arm moved back and forth in a fast stabbing motion, the wookie landed hard and moving too slowly to keep up with Jon. His blade continuing to create holes in the wookie for blood to escape from. Then, the wookie rolled its entire body. Rolling to the side and bringing up its knee to get it above Jon, one hand holding down Jon. The other plummeting down into the chest repeatedly, Jon could feel the pain building in his chest. Blood in his throat, he brought the knife around into the neck of the wookie. Ripping the blade across the beasts large thick neck, blood exploding across his arm and blinding his view through his visor. As the wookie's assault began to slow down, Jon pushed as hard as he could to get himself away from the body. The wookie wouldn't be enough, even though it was still alive grasping for its throat it was no longer a challenge or a threat.



@[member="Isabet Kote"]

@Bjornveld Skjoldsen

 

[Bjornveld Skjoldsen]

The large figure had been sitting at a table this whole time, along with his good friend Verd Starruner. They were here because they had just completed a Bounty and were now celebrating it with a couple of drinks. They both had some of the strongest beverages the house had to offer. They drank and made jokes for a while, until someone decided to get hit by a chair. That immediately caught Bjornveld's attention. It seemed like there was going to be a fight and Bjornveld LOVED fights. Especially when someone who could actually match his strength was involved and the Wookie seemed like such an individual. He watched the small fight between the Wookie and the man in the strange armor. It was an amusing fight, until the Armored guy decided to pull a knife and stab the Wookie. That was when stuff got real. and Bjornveld decided it was time to start a barfight. He lifted the table the two were sitting at and threw it into a couple guys sitting at a nearby table. Then he picked up a chair and charged some Weequay sitting at the bar. His friend, the Mandalorian Bounty Hutner, found another target. A Mandalorian who had just walked into the bar. He picked up his chair as well and charged her. The two were drunk. Like, very drunk. They would even attack their own mothers at this point.

@[member="Isabet Kote"] @[member="CC-848 Jon"]

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet lifted her wrist as the chair came swinging toward her. It exploded into sharp splinters of wood against her armour, flinging dangerously pointed pieces of wood left right and centre. A drunken Mandalorian, who seemed to be rather intoxicated, stood in front of her. She grinned heavily and cracked her fingers, pulling off her buy'ce. She would rather fight him hand to hand then cover herself in armour. That was the honourable way, after all he was her equal, despite his drunken waver. Isabet swung her fist toward his face, a right hook with powerful momentum. He was bigger and a hell of a lot bulkier then her, but she wasn't going to back down. Stuff like this made her training all the more worth while.

@[member="Bjornveld Skjoldsen"] @[member="CC-848 Jon"]

 

[CC-848 Jon]

Jon saw the massive man ahead of him, a space viking no less. He was more than a foot taller than him to, but even so. Jon charged him from behind, using a table to get some momentum and height. Jon leaped onto the back of the giant, knife in hand. He knife aimed at his neck, Jon's body was flung like a rag doll at the large man. His free hand grabbing at his hair to distract him from the on coming blade. "Your turn!" He yelled, nearly ready to cling to the vikings back. He had never seen such a large man before. But, this was most certainly going to be a new experience for sure.

@[member="Isabet Kote"]
@[member="Bjornveld Skjoldsen"]

 

[Bjornveld Skjoldsen]

The Mandalorian saw all the splinters fly about everywhere. It was glorious. So much destruction, so much pain. He followed the woman and took off his helmet as well, exposing his Zabrak face. He got ready for her blows and blocked it by deflecting it so that it flies past his face. Then he got in close for a right hook from below, aimed at the woman's chin. This blow would either knock her out or miss and give her a wide opening to attack the Zabrak Mando.

@[member="Isabet Kote"]

Bjornveld was just done with one guy, when another one charged him from behind. That one was much smaller and had a knife, most likely the armored man from earlier. He pulled his hair back, causing his head to jerk backwards in a painful way, which only made him more angry, which in turn made him more powerful. He drew upon his anger and the force and punched backwards, aiming at the man's chest, to knock him off Bjornveld's back. This would either hit, or he would have to make another attack, this time aiming better.

@[member="CC-848 Jon"]

 

[Isabet Denko]

Isabet reeled herself backward, the fist narrowly missing her chin. It only increased her anger and excitement further. Though she wasn't really sure as to what she was angry about. It must just been the environment. With a loud battle cry, Isabet kicked her foot out toward the wide open chest of the Zabarak. The heavy armoured boot moved surprisingly fast, slicing through the air with a sharp zip. She hoped that perhaps once this was done someone would buy her a drink. After all, bar fights never lasted too long. The alcohol always called them back.

@[member="Bjornveld Skjoldsen"]

 

[CC-848 Jon]

Jon was sent off of the back of the large man by a wave of force energy. Of course the large man had to use the force, what a cheap way to deal with a brawl. Jon decided that instead of trying to feet the giant coward, he'd pick on someone else. Jon thought, if he gets to use the force. He gets to use his DLT-20A, throwing off all of the cloak, he revealed the rifle on his back and quickly took it from his back. Setting the gun to semi-automatic, he began to fire from the hip. Blasting away as other members of the now large scale fight began to take out their own weapons. Jon was faster, his blaze of fire cutting down numerous people. Not long before the bartender unloaded a shotgun round into his chest. It was a cheap slug rifle that sent Jon off of his feet and out of view, he had had his moment of glory, but was now lying on his behind with a sore side and a broken rib. "Ouch.." He grumbled, lying under a broken table.

@[member="Isabet Kote"]
@[member="Bjornveld Skjoldsen"]