Ragos Terrek
a.k.a. Ghost
It frakking stank and it was so gods damned hot. Ragos ain’t have the first clue how anybody could live in a place like this. A place like this was a low-rent two-room apartment in Coruscant’s underlevel with cold duracrete floors and walls, the walls used to have white paint on them but that had either chipped away or turned a stomach-churning shade of yellow.
Ragos sat uncomfortably on a couch that had to be older than he was while he sweat through his clothes. He tried the best he could to focus on the small vidscreen across from him that was showing highlights from a recent shockboxing event and not the sweltering heat or overwhelming smell of chemicals that burned his eyes and nostrils or especially he tried not to think too hard about the infant sitting next to him wearing nothing but a way too full diaper breathing in the same throat closing, eye-stinging air he was.
The heat and the air conditions all came from the same source: the kitchen. A space hardly large enough to fit two people comfortably was the cause of Ragos’ discomfort, concern, and frankly his guilt. The cooktop had been running nonstop for almost a week and they hadn’t been in there cooking meals for the homeless. There was only one thing Ragos and his boys knew how to cook…Spice. A warehouse full of the chit and all he managed was two bricks, two bricks that needed to pay out like it was ten, that means it needed stepped on and flipped harder than any two bricks had ever been and so they had basically commandeered the apartment of Kogie’s girl and set about turning two bricks to ten and turning the air toxic.
“C’mon, Ghost man let’s go.” His friend Jon said as he reappeared in the common room after disappearing to take a leak, brushing long black braids from his face and tying them back into a ponytail. “That chit ain’t gonna be ready to put on the street for a couple mo’ days anyway and it’s karking hot G.”
“Chit you right,” Ragos agreed quickly, thankful for a chance to get the kark out this hot box. “Yo Ko’ we out!” Ragos yelled to the kitchen drawing Tokogie to join Ragos and Jon in the common space. All three men were young, barely older than twenty, none even twenty-five yet, all three were new to Coruscant having moved from Nar Shaddaa only a couple weeks earlier and all were dark-skinned Koruni men, Tokogie and Ragos both had been born on Haruun Kal with Dejonte having been born and raised on Nar Shaddaa and all three were ride or die in the cut gangstas, members and rising stars of the Killer Koruni street gang on Nar Shadda, they had come to Coruscant to increase the influence and credit flow of their gang.
“What are you ‘bout to get into?” Kogie asked in clearly Koruni accent.
“Chit, dunno, go hoop maybe?” Ragos answered, his own accent could be heard but it was not nearly as thick as Tokogie’d
“Damn sucka, you always playing bocaball.” Tokogie said.
“Aint chit else to do round this sucka.” Ragos told him as the two clapped hands and embraced briefly as a good buy.
Not long later Ragos and Jon were at Ruckus Park getting shots up at the bocaball court. Afer that chit on Ossus and that Chit with Marcus Carter it was finally looking like things were gona start going right…right?
Jai'galaar Gred
Ragos sat uncomfortably on a couch that had to be older than he was while he sweat through his clothes. He tried the best he could to focus on the small vidscreen across from him that was showing highlights from a recent shockboxing event and not the sweltering heat or overwhelming smell of chemicals that burned his eyes and nostrils or especially he tried not to think too hard about the infant sitting next to him wearing nothing but a way too full diaper breathing in the same throat closing, eye-stinging air he was.
The heat and the air conditions all came from the same source: the kitchen. A space hardly large enough to fit two people comfortably was the cause of Ragos’ discomfort, concern, and frankly his guilt. The cooktop had been running nonstop for almost a week and they hadn’t been in there cooking meals for the homeless. There was only one thing Ragos and his boys knew how to cook…Spice. A warehouse full of the chit and all he managed was two bricks, two bricks that needed to pay out like it was ten, that means it needed stepped on and flipped harder than any two bricks had ever been and so they had basically commandeered the apartment of Kogie’s girl and set about turning two bricks to ten and turning the air toxic.
“C’mon, Ghost man let’s go.” His friend Jon said as he reappeared in the common room after disappearing to take a leak, brushing long black braids from his face and tying them back into a ponytail. “That chit ain’t gonna be ready to put on the street for a couple mo’ days anyway and it’s karking hot G.”
“Chit you right,” Ragos agreed quickly, thankful for a chance to get the kark out this hot box. “Yo Ko’ we out!” Ragos yelled to the kitchen drawing Tokogie to join Ragos and Jon in the common space. All three men were young, barely older than twenty, none even twenty-five yet, all three were new to Coruscant having moved from Nar Shaddaa only a couple weeks earlier and all were dark-skinned Koruni men, Tokogie and Ragos both had been born on Haruun Kal with Dejonte having been born and raised on Nar Shaddaa and all three were ride or die in the cut gangstas, members and rising stars of the Killer Koruni street gang on Nar Shadda, they had come to Coruscant to increase the influence and credit flow of their gang.
“What are you ‘bout to get into?” Kogie asked in clearly Koruni accent.
“Chit, dunno, go hoop maybe?” Ragos answered, his own accent could be heard but it was not nearly as thick as Tokogie’d
“Damn sucka, you always playing bocaball.” Tokogie said.
“Aint chit else to do round this sucka.” Ragos told him as the two clapped hands and embraced briefly as a good buy.
Not long later Ragos and Jon were at Ruckus Park getting shots up at the bocaball court. Afer that chit on Ossus and that Chit with Marcus Carter it was finally looking like things were gona start going right…right?
Jai'galaar Gred
